These shadows have eyes, and they lean in to watch us.
A tattered silhouette circles. Time to discuss,
It seems, according to the devil I do know.
The devil says: "Well, why don't you give them a show?"
My patron looks at me, a smirk on his features.
"...Unless you think you cannot defeat these creatures?"

There are two more with us, they are growing nervous,
"Should we not fight them together...?" It's disservice,
To me, with my quickly growing magical might.
"For once you might be right," the other says with bite.
Amaranth and Cordelia are their names, perhaps.
But their spoken doubt crawls into me. Then it snaps:

My mind, it was always onto magic hopes gripped.
But since gaining that (facing their words), something ripped;
My soul was not for magic meant... If it has seams,
Then they tore them. I once had much more hopeful dreams,
But I am tired of their doubts. Everyone doubts me...
Except for him. He challenges me to instead be.

"Alone, I fight," I declare, madness in my gaze.
Arguments from the two go unheard in my haze.
I pick a cleaver, and it glows with magic bright.
(Once I was taught by parents what was good and right.)
The devil laughs, and it sounds like music to ears,
I'll give them all a show! (No desire to earn cheers...)

(Is this what I really wished for? I don't know.
It feels like as if it is all I have now, though.)
So if a tear or more slips from my light blue eyes,
Well, I knew he was a devil, there was no guise.
Shadows of dead cheer as I, Auseklenis, fight,
I don't need those who can no longer face my sight.