Virais

It's been a while since the sun went down. Your rusty lantern the only thing protecting you from the dark.
You have been looking up at the sky for hours, praying to the Flamecaller that no one comes here tonight.
She appears to not have cared for your request.

Far, up in the sky, the tired figure of a dragon appears to look for a place to rest.
You pray again - please go away! - but it appears that today no deity will listen to you.

Every step guides you nearer to the landing site, every step more unsure than the last, as if your feet were carrying the chains that your soul possess.
You ask again to the gods - Don't let me find them! - but their only answer is the lonely howl of the wind, extinguishing the flame of hope that you had left.

You extend your wing and take the useless lantern in your claws. It only reminds you of how powerless you are.
You should turn it on, you tell yourself, but just the idea feels wrong.
So you just stand there, shielded by the darkness.

With tears in your eyes and fury in your heart, you throw the lantern.
The sound of the glass breaking only reminding you that you are never getting your light back.

You look at the sky again and only see emptiness.
Not even the moon wishes to show you the way.
But up there is a lone star, calling for you.

And it just makes sense to go.

For the first time in forever, you open your wings without despair. Tears fill your eyes and you don't know if is the pain from all these years or something She had buried a long time ago.
Every flap brings you nearer to freedom and it feels so right.
Maybe this is what they call hope!

...

"Virais." She says with a smirk on her face, one that you can barely distinguish with the tears.
"It appears you fell, what a shame." You try to beg for help, but the claw crushing your throat is death set in not letting you breathe.
"Don't worry about our guest, dear, I'll welcome them. You should stay here, resting." She says, finally releasing you from the clutches of suffocation.
But what She says next reminds you that maybe death would be kinder.
"What would poor Haia think if they saw you like this?"

Truly, no deity will ever care for you.