O’, how horrible is the Age of Misery! The age of blood and madness, of conflagration and darkness! Horrible is this time of Horrors, and how dreadful are the roads that swarm with snakes, and the foul shadow of their Prince that so fills the hearts with fear!

The only hope does lie in Daboh, in the Sun that shines high above and shows the safe paths, for the shadow runs from it and awaits the coming of the Night.

Doomed will be the ones who joined with Svarog in madness, who jumped in the Fire and worship it! Tainted it is with the magic of Veles, and dependent on it: for what wouldst it eat if not the grease and branches made by Veles? O’, how great was the mistake of the good Daboh! The weapon he did craft with his own heart grew unruly and did take a taste for its power.

How couldst Svarog stand against Veles, the very one to feed him and let him grow? How couldst he protect us from the Žmij, who does choke him like the snake chokes the chick?

Woe betide anyone who kneels before the Fire, blinded by its false light!