A thief reveals a few lies —

“The first lie is called…”

“Fellow thieves, come on and deceive gods with me!”

The world has already forgotten that feast —

Lies unnumbered that drowned the day of souls,
Schemes uncounted,
Burning for a night of revelry.

Three hundred thieves shackled in imprisonment,
In exchange for a Titan's resigned confinement.

“To have managed to trick the grandmaster of all tricks…“
“I can die happy now!”

This was Dolos's great achievement, the deception of the gods,
Where even Zagreus was fooled.

“The second lie is called…”

“The God of Trickery is now naught but a wandering soul…”

Why did she spare the Titan's life?
The young girl knew not, even after asking herself.

Was it greed for the treasure they promised,
Or had she vaguely perceived their lonely fate?

“Its because you're every bit as despicable as I am.
It's such a relief not having to deal with the noble.”

The girl dismissed
And made light of herself,
Only forgetting,
Trickery was once a god that supported the world.

“The third lie is called…”

“O Eternal Day, endlessly illuminate the holy city!”

At Dawncloud,
The chaplain's secrets,
Foretold the coming of that endless night.

“But if my lies are more sophisticated,
Can the dawn last forever, no end in sight?”

Bearing the fate of the Thief Star,
The girl was long used to walking in shadow.

But as she gazed towards the holy city's dawn,
Her duty became fixed in her heart, stalwart in might.

“The fourth lie is called…”

“There's no reason. I just don't want to see you again.”

The girl tried to mask her nonchalance,
But could never fool the golden thread's questions.

But it is the false-hearted malice
That most powerfully forces belief.

A true Flame-Chase hero willingly faded from attention,
While the wayfaring traveler grasps tight onto fleeting light.

She used divine power to forge a mask,
And conceal the last of her true heart.

“The fifth lie is called…”

“No. There are no more lies left.”

The whimsical coin fell to the ground,
Telling the tale of fate fulfilled.

Travels unwitnessed,
ruses unknown,
To whom may these now be told?

“Lies are always but lies…
But you can make them more beautiful than the truth.”^[1]

Under the somber sky,
Golden blood soaked the thief's cloak —

Like a olden thread, tailored just for her,
An exquisite robe, that she never stole.