Prologue

Time, a delicate string held by the gentle hands of the Eternal keeper. Guided and protected over.

She notices the thread thinning, an indication of something approaching. Something Grim, dark enough to extinguish all of creation, the string threatening to be severed. She reaches out to the thinned string, her power spiraling, envisioning, the future being prophesized.

And exactly as she feared, her vision led to--nothing. A pure void of emptiness.

Her powers allow her to view of it's cause, yet as she is created, her words are bound to be vague. Never allowed to fully relay the truth of the future, nor of the past to just whoever. Tasked to provide just about the necessary information to prevent further destruction.

She called out to, Silva, her messenger, born from the cosmos. Who walks rather gracefully on the long lit path, leading to a woman, gigantic, sitting over nothing; oozing with the eldest divine power, her hands hovered under the delicate string. Surrounded with burning orbs, the brightest of stars orbiting her. Faint colors fade through the dark blue that blankets the universe.

"Silva, the thread shows to be disturbed." Litheanne, the Eternal keeper spoke. Her voice echoes, laced with worry. "What have you forseen?" Silva asks, her voice velvety.

"It seems, through hands that spiral in fury,

hell's flames will carve their way,

a ravenous void swallowing all

without mercy.

Through thorn-laced palms,

the threads of fate, before with no end will face the inevitable. The mighty will fall, and the weak will rise on the pedestal.

Then comes the Souls;

with hearts burdened with sorrow,

Forged with strength

And bound with courage.

Only they can gather what was stolen, as we remain as mere whispers in the wind, powerless, and forgotten. "

"The end of time.. the end of time, is what you have forseen? I shall alert the other Bound beings, but one more thing before I leave. How will we reach those who can salvage what will be lost? We are bound here, outside of those realms, cursed to never be in contact. Only watch and protect from Galaxia's phenomenons." Silva asks, her brows furrow, worried, yet understanding of the grave danger that threatens all.

"The Sisters, they shall create the first Everborne, a being unbound by time, capable of slipping through the fractures of reality and time itself, with no consequences. Claiming the face of others, a gift for persuasion. But, as every being, they have a weakness. They're cursed with stagnation, for no matter what form they take, they can never claim the power or skill of those who they imitate.

They shall not know defeat.

But, the Everborne shall not be like the rest. The first Everborne shall be a soul, reborn. Familiar with every beauty and curse of life, experienced. The Everborne I have forseen is born on Earth, she strong-willed, yet unfortunately taken before she could live the wonderful chapter of her life.

She will be the key to end our upcoming demise."

Litheanne answers, her powers attracting a star, bright and orb like. Revealing an image of a fair-skinned woman, with jet black hair, her hair tied in a low ponytail, long and wavy. At rest over her shoulder, her words inaudible, speaking with a soft smile. Her eyes a beautiful hazel. Her hands hugging her rounded belly.

"She is the answer"

"From Tadious? But, those are Nyx's creations." Silva responds. "Yes, but this danger threatens them as well."

Silva then simply nods and walks away in silence. The realms burning bright in the background, she stretches her arms and a wave of power pushes forward, her voice suddenly large and impactful.

"Hear me now, for thy task wields great burden. An ominous force looms, threatening all of creation.

Demetris, Rowena. You both shall be tasked to search for a woman with brown locks. You'll know when you see her, a star provided by the Eternal keeper shall offer you with an image of whom you need to find. Demetris, you shall have her rebirth to become an Everborne. One who is unbound by time, capable of claiming the face of whoever and drifting through realms with no consequence. But cursed to never attain the power or skill of whom she imitates. She is crucial for the salvation of all. " She spoke aloud.

Two large women, at either side of the luminescent bridge simply nods. The other, known as Demetris asks, "Something has threatened the thread Silva?". Rowena, the other then follows, "It seems the end of time has been prophesized. How much time do we have?"

"Not enough I presume. Indeed, the end of time is near. So we must hurry, and prepare." Silva answers to both sisters, her voice gradually fades to silence.

"War is assumed, a war that will cost everything. Born from the mistakes of the firsts." Litheanne then silently mumbles to herself as she once again returns to gently guiding the string of time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A woman, gracefully walks near the flow of the glowing river. Her pearl white hair riding through the cold breeze. She bends over and sits at the edge, her hands wave itself above the surface do the river, gently letting her fingers grace the flowing water.

The moonlight was strong and prominent.

The woman stands up, she faces the moon and closes her eyes, bathing in the moonlight. Fireflies glow brighter and start to circle around her, she smiles softly as she opens her eyes, her power surging through her hands.

Suddenly the moon's luminescent glow fades dim. The fireflies all scatter and their lights no longer glow as bright as it did. Her face shows worry, a bright light engulfs her vision. She raises her arms and shields her eyes, once the bright light fades away she slowly brings her hands to her side.

A butterfly, the only remaining luminous under the night. But it was different, it was leaving behind trails of sparks, it was a butterfly made from power. She watches curiously as the butterfly approaches her, she raises a hand as the butterfly came close enough.

It rests on her hand, then the power which it was made from scatter. A voice merely whispers in the wind, "They found you both.."

She catches the falling sparks on her palms, and a lone tear falls from her eye. Her opened hand, closes and clenches tight. She opened her hand once again and guided the sparks away with her powers. "She's gone dear sister.." she whispers..

She clenches her hands, and power surrounds her. Dark, and full of rage.

A hunger for vengeance awakens inside her, and her eyes are filled with a pitch black void, she, unrecognizable.

BREATH OF THE LONE VOYAGER: Claws and Crowns

Made by: Hayven Averdine.