Bree

Omen

Basics

Name: Bree-Anne
Nicknames: Bree
Preferred Name: Prophet
Titles: Mother, Prophet
Gender: Female
S/O: Bisexual
Status: Clan Preacher/Cultist

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"The Gods-" My voice is hoarse, unsteady, raspy, and I blink my eyes open again as I catch my breath. I must speak. My clan is curled before me, coughing and wheezing and dying, spittle easing from chapped lips. Feathers drip from withered wings. Hope haunts their empty eyes as they watch me- I am a Prophet, they say, a preacher for the Twelve. I am to guide them to salvation, to help them fly to the Plaguebringer after they pass from this world, so they tell me. Myself, I know the gods do not care. Other beings, perhaps, but never the gods. They have abandoned us.

"Plaguebringer's children? Oh, hardly." Words fall from my lips before I even realize I've spoken; a bitter laugh forces itself from my throat, a smile dragging on its coattails. "Our Mother abandoned us! She left us to die in the talons of her disease, and you want to say we're her children?"
My gaze scrapes over the tattered forms of the dragons surrounding me; they came to me, bodies broken and souls rotting, to beg salvation. They came for assurance that some divine power would save them. Gods, how wrong they were...! All that is left to us is the void.

"You want her to care," I whisper, voice hoarse, raw. "You want someone, anyone, to care about you, to tell you you're okay. Gods, I want to be the dragon that can do that for you- I'm a preacher, a priest, I should be able to- no, I can't. I can't assure you of anything but that the gods have abandoned us. We are empty, useless husks of the dragons we could have been, hollow vessels for the shadows to settle in, fill, spread through-" My head tilts back, eyes fluttering closed like a hatchling's doll as the spirit of the moment takes me. "-recreate... you've felt it, friends, all of you, oh! You've felt Its sacred tendrils slipping among you! You've seen it, heard it, tasted it! Our savior is no god, but it is Death itself, theft, darkness! The Shade walks among us!"

Distantly, I hear cries and gasps, a rustling of feathers, but I am not here in this dusty and derelict lair, not here with the religious souls I am meant to guide- I am in a whirling ballroom, skeletal dragons laughing as they whip past me, shadows dripping and dripping and dripping from their maws and sticking to my feathers...! Gods, but it's beautiful! I can see everything! I know! I know-