The Queen

The others were gone. Chyrlathyn could feel their lingering presence, but it was fading quickly. Perhaps she should have felt guilt or grief for her children and grandchildren, but she did not. She only felt satisfied that they would not return.
She lifted back into the air to look over the sacred Heartlands. Perhaps people would come to settle here again, and perhaps the prophecy would return. Perhaps her daughter was right that she could not delay it forever. But she would never stop trying, and even if she failed, it would be contained. Any threat that arose here would never make it to the outside world. And the events of these days would be lost to time.
Her wings beat faster, wind swirling around her, sending ripples over the land. Finally, with a single wingbeat and the mightiest roar she could muster, divine judgement swept over the Heartlands, wiping its people from existence. It settled finally over the water, a massive writhing storm barricading the outside world from danger.
In the distant ocean, the wave approached a single ship, sailing away from the Heartlands. The divine energy touched it, rocking it, and surrounded it, tossing it back and forth. A tiefling, holding tightly to a clay tablet, plunged into the water. The divine energy reached for him. But before it could touch him, a pair of arms wrapped around him, pulling him deeper into the water where even Chyrlathyn could not reach.