PROPHECY | Torn Unto Whole

[Pallodium 3776]

Spoiler

 

This is a prophetic vision accessible to seers, naztherak, farseer shamans, vivification clairvoyants, veilwatchers, nephilim, and all others with prophetic abilities per Prophecy lore. Furthermore, those too with Deific connections, both those divine and those maleficent, are privy to this vision.

 

 

A restless dream, a limbo of apoptotic flickering lights and dimming streams overtook your penitent slumber, their fading hues swathing over your eyes. A cyclic storm rippled, and it was without direction nor poise, lapsing both above and below your weary mind. Yet what was up- and in that too what was down- was all but uncertain; the mind was a fickle thing to diagnose in what seemed to be a whirling freefall. The fading lights sputtered to death in suicidal impulse, each cresting light- each dying soul- snapping away from the world's gait.

 

The world snapped to a black wash, and a rush of sound overtook the silence that pertained. The murmurs and footsteps of a bustling of a street, the sickened retches and coughs of a plagued alleyway, the guttural howls of the bulbous-riddled sickly as the forlorn hymns of the battered churches’ choir sang unto the world. You saw a mottled scene, as dozens of differing sights all coalesced into one.

 

A being in robes stood before you- their skin marred, yet smooth, a serendipitous and complacent expression splayed beneath their cowl’s fabric. A palm arose, gilded in somber, pale mists, and it was holy, and it was divine. And yet the elderly thing’s bitter smile was all but that. The sight of an island washed over you- radiant lights spilling from its archaic core as tides sequestered the glorious thing in tempestuous fury.

 

 

「 PRAXIM NUMEN 」

In my dreams, I heard your footsteps coming closer.

In my dreams, I tried to talk to you, and introduce myself.

 

‘You’ were fixed. Amended; what plagued the masses, what curses, sicknesses, fevers harrowed your form vanished as if wicked away. The holy man in a bishop’s garb walked. And you saw him move as if one in unison, through the eyes of the shepherd- the eyes of the beggar, the eyes of the market-owner and the eyes of the slave; the world’s many components all observing the elder's sickly divinity. ‘You’ gazed down, at your form- as an ivory-gilded coin seemed to be plastered within your palm’s base, tightly clutched against your own volition. The faint odor of sphacelated ichor wafted from the thing- yet the feeling was fleeting. ‘You’ felt your soul had been amended. Stitched, reformed- from tatters, you became whole.

 

You awaken. ‘You’ slumber.

The world, revolving.

Revolving, forevermore.

[Holyland 3650]

Spoiler

 

 

 

 

Curtailed by sanguineous melodies, a bleeding palm trembles; another strike, wrought of the expiation of the needy, the chain-bound, in benediction hallowed and profane. A pulsation draws forth, within that wretched penitence, as the vindication of all Absolutes is made clear.

 

 

"I rebuke the many, the deceiver and the falsified."

[SethWolf 2340]

Siegmund - a prince of the lord Kiiztria snapped awake from the dream.

 

A hand covered his chest where upon his fingers curled into a fist. Beads of cold sweat formed on his brow as his eyes darted to the dark corners of his bedroom, as if expecting some presence to be there. Watching. Like an animal alerted to an unknown and unbidden visitor did he remain there. Still. Frightened.

 

After a moment did his presence of mind return to him. He remembered that fleeting feeling. A feeling like a cold mist upon his face. A nostalgic pain that for a brief moment reminded him of the man he was before he became the thing he now existed as. It was a stomach churning feeling, one that brought anxious pains to shoot up his spine and tendril out across his stomach.

 

Slowly did his eyes peel down to the hand that was still clutched against his chest. He felt his heart still as he gazed upon his shaking hand.

 

He mourned the revelation that the coin was not resting within his palm. He didn't sleep for the rest of the night.

 

He watched the moon.

 

For the first time in two decades,

 

He prayed.

[DizzyGrey 1229]

Yhl'Flaaowni Tlamineh awoke from her dream slowly, eyes flickering open as she glances down at herself. Sitting up from where she had fallen asleep within her peoples' ancient sanctuary, the High Priestess of the Kharajyr looks down to her palm. Rubbing at it with her other hand's thumb, directly where that ivory coin had been pressed into the padding there. 

 

"She needs no fixing." The Kharajyr all but spits, glancing about the titanic tree she rest upon with her people. "The Mother made Kharajyr perfect. The diseases of lesser races am no consequence to us. She rejects touch upon a Soul made without flaw, auh stain it with that which am foreign." 

She didn't have anyone to talk to. 

She knew it wasn't listening.

Just as she knew, as she began to start praying, that Metztli couldn't hear her either.

[Lojo613 1882]

"NUB WEI" Head Chef BATA of the GRUB-BUCKET™ awoke with a start on a Galungan beach, rubbing his head. "MITASHI MUSTA HAD TOO MANY MAI TAIS!" The Oni blinked away the crust in his eyes, and wiped the crust from his lips. "Hmmmm.. . . . ." He thought "This message from CEO is VERY mysterious. New marketing. Mitashi must create placemat RIGHT AWAY!" The Oni then got to work setting the cogs of corporate advertising to work.

Edited December 11, 2024 by Lojo613

[Frisket 4538]

Ember awoke rapidly from her bed. To her reality seemed almost false, she went to check upon her kinder- and once she confirmed she sighed heavily, almost in relief seeing them all in bed. 

 

"I'm awake.... You arrogant spirits"

 

She said this before taking a walk down old Celian street

[PrimnyaQuorum 4003]

A dreadful Creature, Subjugator and Emancipator, awakes. Bitter-paled violet eyes snap about, as bitter rage swells with in it.

 

It does not need mending, for it was already Whole. It was not sickly, it was Blessed and righteous. 

 

And if that robed-thing reared its head within its waking sight, it so believed, then it would prove thus so.

 

---

 

A Librarian Jolts awake.

 

The Veil has long been silent, but so it speaks - though not its usual song, not imparting its usual warnings and wisdoms. It is a odd sensation, to one who already believes oneself whole; to be fixed.

 

The Blessing gnawed at the back of his mind, indulged without time to consider that it even was separate - why? 

 

It wouldn't be long before the Librarian was awake, and in a spectacular parting of space, away from his Home. Searching, again, in the dark of day.

[MALUKOR 225]

"THE DECEIVER," a man in the desert wailed, thinking of the eyes in the smoke, and bashed his head against the sand.

Edited December 11, 2024 by MALUKOR

[TheGentleDuck 55]

The old man jostled awake, gasping for air as the final whispers of foresight retreated from his mind. His living tattoos ached, and he felt the ink spiral writhing back into his left eye socket, into the pitch black eyeball that still saw the visions dance in the shadows.

 

This one had been much clearer than any other, and the importance wasn't lost on the Forge Master. His mind raced through the possible interpretations, but he quickly brushed the thought aside. "Too recent... Too sudden. Mastery doesn't allow for rushed conclusions. I will have to do a proper reading."

 

Groaning, Wrotek pried off the sweat stained blankets and reached for the matchbox on his nightstand. The flickering match flame was barely a speck, but under it's warm glow the veteran noticed something alarming. A wriggling pool of ink had manifested on the back of his hand, making the final touches to a new tattoo.

 

The coin had etched itself on his flesh, seeping into his soul as a permanent reminder of what he had been shown.

 

Wrotek Pankiewich stared at the fresh marking with a worried frown. The match all the way down to his fingers, leaving the elder Palmreader without light once more.

 

But he did not mind the dark. The clearest messages came in the blackest ink.

 

Edited December 11, 2024 by TheGentleDuck

[kruurk 47]

Having seen the vision by some random happenstance of events, Snooks felt guilty for having made everyone sick.. and he still feels bad about it!

[KidKrinkles 2044]

Victor did wake up in his bath tub with a stir. It was dark but he did pull the wet cloth from off his brow, and his eye, blinking.

 

He'd tap at his chest, as though checking for his soul... the intangible thing lying just below his chest. He'd look around, slowly, lazily, legs hanging out the front, arms hanging on either side once more.

 

"Startin' te' 'ate' t'ese visions..."