[Prophecy] Event Horizon

[Pallodium 479]

This is a prophetic vision accessible to seers, naztherak, farseer shamans, vivification clairvoyants, nephilim, and all others with prophetic abilities per Prophecy lore.

 

 

The world slips away from you, forms and shapes dilating unto shades and remnants of the precursors. The world about you smudges to darkness, the somber trance flooding into your very being; your mind’s eye flickers open. And yet the world is still darkened. Morsels of ancestral light leak unto the gaps about the world, gleaming slivers in contrast to that nigh-endless bleakness that surmised the nihility. Vapors stream upwards from the dunes of the doleful surface, onyx crystalline grains static upon the dunes, wavering not even a quiver in the unsettling silence.

 

The sky itself shifts; a never-ending tesselation of primal shapes and symbols, it bears no revelation unto itself other than the very nature. Fractions upon fragments of grayed light leaks between the crevices, the very horizon itself trembling with its nature; a stray beam of shadelight illuminates the space before you; corpses upon corpses lay rampant upon the floor, bones half-degraded into all but ivory dust twinged unto the charcoal sands.

 

The horizon ripples.

 

Not a sound floods the plains, not even the hollow verbatim of distant winds. The sound of silence, the sound of death- the sound of that which is not there. An absence of sound is present; not even any hint to your very own mind’s presence being there sole but the mind’s eye which gazes forth.

 

Yet it ripples oncemore in verbatim.

 

Twisting forth from the shady grains; congealment unto shades and weary sands brings forth a hollow husk; a vessel which lingers for a terse moment. It moves not. It thinks not. It lives not.

 

A blank stare plasters towards the horizon.

 

The world unsettles you. The sands remain stagnant, functionally frozen unto the very places the grains scattered when the lands before fell; wisps of shadelight flood forth, beams swaying side to side as the preancestral atmosphere thrums in warped ambience.

 

It ripples. It thrums. It gleams.

 

Your mind’s eye starts to twist; shades and fragments of wisped forms quiver unto reality, their ethereal forms disillusioning and warping shaded malaise unto your perspective. Then you realize. You realize what has been happening all this time.

 

The horizon encroaches.

 

Soundless chaos floods the plains, without a morsel of motion wrought true. The encroaching horizon thrums with every pace gained, every dune crossed, every crescentic mound of sand consumed. It brings all to something else; your form is wreathed unto the husk. Feeling comes to your form, yet it is not the vessel you once presided in; wrought of sands and mists your new form lays unmovable. Minutes pass; then hours; then days. The husk is unweathering, unimpeded- as is the very horizon that encroaches. It lays right before the sand-hewn form, slowly moving forth; primordial wisps stream off the never-stable appearance of the nigh-endless vessel it is; glorious, depressing, and awe-inspiring all at once, the pinnacle of antithesis. It impacts you.

 

T h e   w o r l d   f l a s h e s   w h i t e .

 

Nonexistence. Everything ceases to be, your mental perspective of everything shattered, not a single sense to guide. A low noise vibrates; your hearing returning. It tremors, grows, enlarges, until a droning noise floods your ears.

 

You return back to consciousness, your senses returning to you in a sudden burst of information. The event horizon that once loomed no longer exists within the material world; it persists no longer.

[tadabug2000 3514]

A young girl peered out into the blank darkness of the night. It was silent. Everyone had gone to bed for the night, and the prophecy awoke her with a start - until she was mindlessly finding her way outside for some semblance of calm. Bare feet curled into wet grass, a sensation that helped in clearing her mind. So many prophecies, and yet, how did she decipher them all? How even, does she decipher this one?

[twinwolf1 193]

A druid caught in her students arms screams and tries to claw at her eyes and ears... The very concept of the vision terrifying her. 

[Myrthe 155]

A woman was busy feeding her pets, as her vision blurred she sat down. Passing into the vission what felt endless. She would try to keep calm, even if she was  not... Eventually she awoke trembling  surrounded by her worried pets. She let out a sigh, trying to continue on even if what she saw was on the back of her mind...