As you dream, bearer, after the last world has passed, and after you have seen the terrible visage of Oblivion looming before you, darkness comes for you, a deep sleep. For most, it is dreamless, but for those whom have preserved their own shards through this long (long) trial, your sleep is not dreamless. There is a connection between you and this shard, and it radiates with a soft, comfortable sensation. It is inert, but it is a soul – a piece of a soul. As you dream, you commune, and within it you see…a different you, with different choices, but just as present in Kenos as you are now.
You knew when you awoke in Kenos that your ability would be highly sought after. A prophet is nothing to turn ones nose up at, and both Meridian and Zenith court you for some time, but what tips it over the edge is the compassion the Matron shows toward her weakest bearers, and the way she seeks to understand and uplift them. She connects you to the Waru, who look to you for guidance and help, in their earliest days. Your predictions run true, and you help them consolidate power, direct resources, and spread Yima’s word throughout the city. It has all the signs of a cult, but with your direction, you can help save it, can’t you? Keep it from becoming that?
Until, of course, prophecy runs dry. You do not know how, but the future of Kenos becomes hard to predict, and your abilities become muddled and confusing. One moment things look fine, and the next you see destruction and halted bodies lying in the streets. It is as if the timestream has fractured, and no matter what you do, you cannot make sense of it. During the next oracle, you find yourself dissipated, but instead of regrowing inside the tree, there is only darkness, and then – there is pain – and a masked visage when you regrow, and you do not think it is your body but something else, as if you have been twisted, and corrupted. You cannot move, and when you scream, it is not your voice that screams, but a beast’s, and your body cannot move or shift, as you are held down, and the voice says – “Now let us see how we can use you.”
no subject
You knew when you awoke in Kenos that your ability would be highly sought after. A prophet is nothing to turn ones nose up at, and both Meridian and Zenith court you for some time, but what tips it over the edge is the compassion the Matron shows toward her weakest bearers, and the way she seeks to understand and uplift them. She connects you to the Waru, who look to you for guidance and help, in their earliest days. Your predictions run true, and you help them consolidate power, direct resources, and spread Yima’s word throughout the city. It has all the signs of a cult, but with your direction, you can help save it, can’t you? Keep it from becoming that?
Until, of course, prophecy runs dry. You do not know how, but the future of Kenos becomes hard to predict, and your abilities become muddled and confusing. One moment things look fine, and the next you see destruction and halted bodies lying in the streets. It is as if the timestream has fractured, and no matter what you do, you cannot make sense of it. During the next oracle, you find yourself dissipated, but instead of regrowing inside the tree, there is only darkness, and then – there is pain – and a masked visage when you regrow, and you do not think it is your body but something else, as if you have been twisted, and corrupted. You cannot move, and when you scream, it is not your voice that screams, but a beast’s, and your body cannot move or shift, as you are held down, and the voice says – “Now let us see how we can use you.”