Prophecy of the Phoenix

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When Luna hung pregnant in the sky, Phoenix took me.

As her face slipped into the Umbra, he carried me in his claws.

High above the world.

So that I could see beyond tomorrow.

and I looked.

I beheld the future.

I saw the decimation of our kin. Hunted beyond hunting, death beyond death, to the last one. There were no more children or grandchildren. No more fathers or mothers. This was the first Sign Phoenix gave to me, telling of what the Children of the Weaver - the Humans - would do to us.

And I looked.

And again, I beheld the future.

I saw the Children of the Weaver bring forth life. A great tide of Humans rising. I saw more emerge, until Gaia groaned at their weight. Houses overrunning, rakes stabbing, hands clawing at the parched earth, as they try to feed from Her. This was the second Sign of the last days, that the Phoenix showed me, of what the Humans would do.

I looked again.

I beheld the third Sign.

So many. So many children. So many Humans. And they fell against each other, one on one, and the Wyrm brought forth corruption and gave each a measure. And I saw a strange Fire. Out of control, the great Plume rose over the wilderness, spreading death wherever it touched in the dark and cold land. And I heard the agony of the Seas as She keened, for some drunken fool had poured a lake of black death out into her.

I turned my head away in disgust, but I could not help but look again.

And I beheld, then, the fourth Sign.

The Wyrm grew powerful; its wings fanned the breezes of decay. It spread diseases, and they were horrible. The Herd became afflicted with diseases of the head and of the blood. Children were born twisted. Animals fell sick, and no one could cure them. In these final days, even the Warriors of Gaia could not escape the palsied talons of the sickness-bringing deathbird.

With a tear in my eye, I looked again, and the Phoenix showed me the fifth Sign.

Other Plumes rose like death-spears towards the beautiful sky. Piercing it, letting Father Sun burn and parch Gaia. The air grew hot; even in the darkness of Winter it was warm. Plants withered in the sun. The snows fell in the desert as a great Malady consumed Gaia. A cry of pain and disease arose from the dying forests; as one, our kin cried tears of mourning.

Then, as though a veil were torn from my eyes, the sixth Sign was revealed.

In these last days, Gaia shakes in rage. Fire boils from her depths and ash shrouds the sky. The Wyrm skulks in the shadows and rears to strike. The old ones are gone; the Guardians of the pathways and the Crossroads are finished. In these final days, the sixth Sign will make itself known in the Packs that form. Each Pack will be blessed with a Quest, a Sacred Journey it must perform. Such is the will of Gaia.

And then I saw the Sky turn black, and the Moon was as blood.

The seventh Sign I glimpsed, though I could not look on it in full. But I could feel its heat blistering my skin.

The Apocalypse. The final days of the world. The Moon was swallowed by the Sun, and it burned in his belly. Unholy fires fell to the ground, burning us all, twisting us and making us vomit blood. The Wyrm had made itself manifest in the towers and rivers, in the air and Land. Everywhere its children ran rampant: devouring, destroying, calling down curses of every kind. And the Herd ran in fear. And the Dark Ones, the Children of the Wyrm, crawled from their caves and walked the streets in daylight.

I turned my head from the sight of it. Phoenix told me: “This is as it shall be, but not as it should.” Phoenix left me then.

Now, I cannot dream. I only remember the Signs, each one in perfect detail. These are the last days. May Gaia have mercy on us.