Quoth the Raven

The Vault of Heavens

The gods change the world in mystic ways, for each deity looks upon reality through the tinted glass of their own perceptions, a confining and restricting measure of what is right and what is wrong. The earth, being a place of all realities, is seen as insufficient to each god for it is incapable of fitting their whims, their divine sense of what is correct, what must be. Thusly, they immutably change the land wherever they trod to match their innate sense of perfection, most oft without even realizing they do so. Such has occurred within the heights of Mount Caelestistelum.

Long did I meditate within the confines of the cavern atop the mount, the wind outside shrieking, unrelenting. The scars of my battle against the chaotic flux have healed slowly, causing me moments of delirium where the past, future and present have bled together before my eyes. Slowly, my wings have grown back, a source of great and eternal frustration to me, for the sensation of itching never stops as each feather reasserts itself to wing. Maybe I am ill at ease, for I am unable, still, to ascertain the reasoning of the entropic flux that so devastated me. I will, however, not relent until I discover the source and eliminate it.

I look about what once was a rugged chamber, nothing more than a dirty mountain cavern filled with jagged rock and rubble. Now, the walls climb seamlessly to unseen heights, purest obsidian that gleams with an innate light. A magical mixture of tones fill the chamber, the crystalline notes of celestial harmony. Circumscribed upon the levelled floor is a circle of protection, luminous golden sigils forming a center of power into which I have long sat, cross-legged, deep in thought.

"Here. A great evil shall come to pass. Someday." I intone with a leaden voice, my mind taken by the fugue of destiny. Arcing blue lightning shoots from my dead eyes, striking the sigils at my feet, inscribing therein the words of prophecy, a warning, a last hope.

Shaking off the grip of Fate, I stand, stiffly, and stretch. My newly grown wings reaching acroos the length of the cavern. "Soon, I shall be ready." I stroll out the maw of the cave, into the brunt of the ripping winds, shrouded in feathers.

My deepening stare peers piercingly to the north, where my search must inevitably begin. There must always be a beginning, and I know exactly where to start. I clench my fists, my face becoming ashen as brows furrow in immeasurable hatred. "I am coming, Dark One."

Azure lightning spills from my ire filled gaze, igniting the ice that blows about me in tiny detonations. I turn and return to the Vault. More meditation is yet needed.

But soon.