When the time comes, you will know it. We will all know it and all will not be well. Great pains have been taken so that this tale does not reach the ears of our everpresent Queen, but she may well know the words I am about to relate to you. I do not know these things to be a fact, or to even be near the truth.
* * *
By the son and daughter of a Blood Elf shall the Wyrm Wood be reborn. Their flesh shall not be rent, and their mother's shall be healed.
* * *
A new home will be pulled from the depths of corruption. The healing of the people shall begin and their pain will be eased, and eventually brought to an end.
* * *
Though the Elven Nation shall be divided again with a wound that will never heal, the differences that caused the Schism can be reconciled.
* * *
There is a greater force than Name-givers at work in Barsaive. I do not speak of any empire or kingdom, but rather another being who was able to survive the Scourge without any of the drastic measures we were forced to take. I believe it will be one of the dragons who will be the one to enact this prophecy. Ironic that it could be a dragon since our true downfall was the death of good Queen Dallia by the will of Alamaise.
To be sure, no one would depose our gracious Queen, who would remain on the Rose Throne. Rather, a new throne and court would be established and ruled with the guidance of those as long lived as we True Elves.
I conclude by saying that I believe that the mother of this future nation has already been chosen and our destiny is at hand, the threads woven as I write this treatis.
Rule long and fairly, sweet Alachia, before you lose your way.