Scarab sat at his desk with his face in his hands. Mercy tenderly rubbed his back, motherly concern in her eyes.
“Is that all of it love?”
“Yes, that’s all.”
Scarab lowered his hands and stared down at the words on the page, clenching his jaw in frustration. The description of the Images and feelings once only in his head when connected to the Elder now on paper.
Pain, anguish, fear, loss… an existential loss. Crumbling structures, blazing sunlight, fingers reaching down from the sky. Then a shift. A building rests on 5 pillars, which are one by one cast away and the building falls. Cool clear liquid rains from the heavens, but it is not rain, it is blood, and it boils and burns as it falls. Skittering things run across my vision, things so small you cannot fathom it, but when you look closely all you see is the night sky with the moon ablaze with light. The sun reaches out in anger, but the moon, visible in the day, stretches forth its hand to defend the weary. Another shift. The moon, a maiden bearing a gift, sharing with all generously. She is chased by a demon with 5 heads, each bearing a crown of thorns, which attempts to swallow her whole. The birds, the beasts, and people alike try to defend her, but the 5 champions of the demon cut swaths for it, preparing the way. Yet another shift. I see A skull with lines and images etched into it, and it speaks the words of the old, and tells the stories of both past and future which are written down and hidden away. I reach forward trying to hear the words but the door slams closed behind a tide of rushing water. These images repeat, backwards and forwards, through ages and time, into infinity.
“What is it worth if I don’t know what any of it means? You should’ve left me a little longer. Then I would know”
The pain that flashed through Mercy’s eyes went unnoticed as she took a shaky breath.
“I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”
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