[Prophecy] The Crippling of Flight

[UnBaed 8945]

A half-crazed and half-asleep elf would later have clarity return to her fatigued mind in the light of the morning; those golden rays illuminating the feverish drawings she had made onto the wall at her bedside.  Watching over Ilaria were dozens upon dozens of scratchy eyes and bat-like shapes painted in her inks.

[milksoda 717]

Jenny awoke in striped purple nightcap - thudding upon her bed frame as she gasp!

"Oh no! Poor bats! They must be sick!" exclaimed that dancer.

The eccentric poofed into her adventuring gear, hopping out of bed as she set off to find the antidote before it can spread to descendant-kind!

[MokoMochi 424]

A worried shaman awakens upon the floor of her home where she appear to be scatter to her family around her. She try to crawl away in a daze desperate for more answers. 

[Lord_of_losers 954]

[!] Though intended only for the chosen few who dared to dabble in prophetic arts and diving rods, there stood amongst them an additional soul whom had no business seeing what she saw. An outlier. A pariah only in the loosest sense of the word - for she was no prophetic seer, diviner, nor a practitioner of otherly arts... Nay, instead it was by chance, a strike of fated destiny made manifest that she saw what she saw.

 

For the wizard sat upon the intersection of thrumming eldritch powers deep within the crust of the plane that most mortal life inhabited... Leylines. By sheer fate, they were made privy to the ill omened prophetic vision; struck dumb temporarily by its seizing and twisting grasp. Breath shook violently from her lungs. The wizardly octograms deep behind her irises flared with iridescent colours that rendered her blind. Temporarily.

 

Her vision faded to a single pinprick as all went dark... Only to then awaken in the dark abyss choked by the stench of sulphur and blood. So followed the vision; a twisted and foul thing that clung to the senses - a foul thing that she could not by force rid herself of. In the material, of course, she sat bleeding harmless shades of glossy octarine that swirled from her shoulders in helical patterns, until such a time at last that she came back to her senses.

 

Badum. Badum. Blackness receded and gave way to blinding light. She could feel the strained heartbeat within her chest as it slowly returned to its normal rhythm. Then, the tingling of her hands faded and left her with the new-again sensation of grass beneath their palms and fingertips as they started up into the sky for some time.

 

"Woe to the bat; woe to those who hide in shadow - for if even they are not safe, what hope have we?"