AoA.Lore Parathrax's Visions
Parathrax's Vision After the Assault on Avraathe
From the exhaustion of the day, sleep takes you quickly and you find yourself in a deep slumber and a vivid dream the moment your eyes flutter closed.
Lightning splinters and cracks around you, ever present within the storm cloud swirling outstretched in all directions as far as your vision reaches. Thunder rolls like tremors of the earth, shaking you to the depths of your being. Though unsettling, you feel a sense of peace and resolve amidst the storm. You feel the storm’s sheer power and energy as an extension of yourself. You are becoming the storm.
Through the dense wisps of clouds, the familiar small stature of the seventh prophet moves towards you in a jubilant skipping stride. Her eyes, radiant blue sapphires filled with secrets and unspoken truth, cut through the mist as she draws closer. “Finally, I can share the rest of the prophecy. The mean man wouldn’t let me finish it the first time. Perhaps it best if I start from the beginning.”
The child prophet closes her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly, her breath pushing swirls of storm cloud away like waves in a turbulent sea.
The Heathen shall come with the burden of purpose,
Found among the faithful but distant in heart.
Blood-soaked hands unwashed in remorse
With visions of beyond, the future carried in part.
The Outsider shall come, seeking truth underneath
yet finding only deceit and privilege abused.
Blood-soaked hands grasp beyond their reach and,
with visions of power, the future consume.
The Chosen shall come guided by their source,
Born with the faithful but soon set apart.
Blood-soaked hands from blood's loyal course
With visions from beyond, the future waiting to start.
The Heathen, The Outsider, The Chosen in all.
And in the three, One shall rise to the call.
To the Betrayer he'll bring His justice and wrath,
Bearer of Righteousness, Avenger of Avraathe.
The prophet blinks once more as her brilliant sapphire eyes slowly fade to their natural blue hue. “Don’t you understand, Parathrax? Bahamut has always known you. You were always set apart. As I am a conduit for his message, you can be the conduit for his will. But the choice is yours - will you follow destiny and restore mercy and justice to Avraathe? Or will you shy away from your place in the world? I hope you choose the former. I believe in you. And so does the Platinum Dragon.” As the prophet's question and encouragement drape over you in a moment of stillness, a distant rolling thunder crescendos and the world glows searingly bright when a web of lightning crackles and crosses through the clouds, consuming your vision before you are once more taken back into otherwise dreamless sleep.
Found among the faithful but distant in heart.
Blood-soaked hands unwashed in remorse
With visions of beyond, the future carried in part.
The Outsider shall come, seeking truth underneath
yet finding only deceit and privilege abused.
Blood-soaked hands grasp beyond their reach and,
with visions of power, the future consume.
The Chosen shall come guided by their source,
Born with the faithful but soon set apart.
Blood-soaked hands from blood's loyal course
With visions from beyond, the future waiting to start.
The Heathen, The Outsider, The Chosen in all.
And in the three, One shall rise to the call.
To the Betrayer he'll bring His justice and wrath,
Bearer of Righteousness, Avenger of Avraathe.
The prophet blinks once more as her brilliant sapphire eyes slowly fade to their natural blue hue. “Don’t you understand, Parathrax? Bahamut has always known you. You were always set apart. As I am a conduit for his message, you can be the conduit for his will. But the choice is yours - will you follow destiny and restore mercy and justice to Avraathe? Or will you shy away from your place in the world? I hope you choose the former. I believe in you. And so does the Platinum Dragon.” As the prophet's question and encouragement drape over you in a moment of stillness, a distant rolling thunder crescendos and the world glows searingly bright when a web of lightning crackles and crosses through the clouds, consuming your vision before you are once more taken back into otherwise dreamless sleep.
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