The Dreamers of Darnassus

She is comfortably seated at the edge of the little […]

She is comfortably seated at the edge of the little pool in the centre of the Temple of the Moon, deep in meditation. Who knows what thoughts are passing through her head while she’s trying to follow the narrow path of mana preservation?

Let’s have a look at her. She is tall and young and wears a simple dress covering every bit of flesh save for her hands and bare feet. She is so motionless that if it weren’t for the pure white of the dress and the peculiar colour of her hair she would blend with the pale marble and disappear from the world.

A slight stir in the air is all that signals the newcomer’s arrival. Without opening her eyes the meditating priestess says, “Show me.”

A slow procession of images passes before her mind’s eye: images of grief, of dying soldiers, of misery.

She repeats, breathlessly, “Show me.” She witnesses scenes of despair, countless armies of undead marching under a bleak sky, countless lives wasted.

Pain contorting the fine features, she repeats a third time, almost imperceptibly, “Show me.” This time it is a great tidal wave rising from the centre of the world as a frozen dark wall, gushing, stretching out to extinguish the fires reigning over towns and valleys, her beloved homeland. Her eyes fly open and she exhales sharply, glaring at the figure standing in front of her. Only now does it become apparent that she is not young, not young at all; her eyes betray her.

A moment of judging, of balancing the impossible, and her face softens. She nods to the stranger and says quietly, “So this is how it’s going to be. A new age for us, for the land, a new awakening.” The tall, gaunt-faced man looks down at her, tenderly touching her features with his gaze, and fades into nothingness. In a moment he’s gone. The priestess sighs and closes her eyes.

The future will soon be here regardless of anything. Having seen futures come and go, why hurry?

She is comfortably seated on the marble stairs just outside the Temple of the Moon, deep in meditation. Who knows what thoughts are passing through her head while she’s trying to follow the narrow path of mana preservation?