Myrra

The Priestess of the Forsaken one

Siblings: ?
Mate: ?
Occupation: ?
Theme Song: Lightless Dawn


Whisper in the dark
Show others what lies ahead
Stumble on further
(Poem by Officer~)


Myrra used to be a sweet girl.
One day after a particulary harsh fight with Azaron she ran away and didn't come back for a while. When she did return, she had changed. She wore ornaments made of bone all over her body and refused to tell anyone where she'd found them. She had also received a gift of magic, something she pretty much lacked before.
However, sometimes it seems that something about her is a little... off. No one has yet regocnized the deity that is the source of her skills, a fact that makes others more than a little nervous around her.
She doesn't sleep in the lair anymore. Those who follow her to her nightly walks say that they can hear her whispering to the air, compeletely alone.

"They may forsake Your name... They may bury Your bones... But they shall never escape Your
vengeance..."



Art by ophician~


Prophecy told by the great seer Parleoure from the clan of FourFlames:


"This dragon's aura spells desire and comprehension. Her shadow is swathed in a tinge of heartfelt amber, the color of endearment to something that she feels is worth a life. A nervous tic shows signs of anxiety, the root of all worrisome futures. Her deity's power is thick around her, and it is tied down in her heart not with scarves but with chains.

"When the quarter moon passes, the feathers of the quail will be found lying where it was not killed, bringing despair to your name. In a great leap of faith, you must trust the ones who have lied to you before, otherwise you are out of luck. To turn on them would be a fatal error; do not allow the lust to repay someone to pass through your body, or you will act on your whims."


Prophecy spoken to her by Tidelord's Seer, High Queen Phira of Wonderlost:

"Sworn servant of darkness, doomed is she - but within her sleeps the courage to rise up and be free."

Art by ChatNoire~


My Forsaken Savior,

My ardent faith may never quaver
I say again how I’m left alone
Without You, instead these broken bones
Your gifts—now they hang too tight
Yet for Your blessing I walk through endless night
And all throughout my nightly vigils
Does my tongue devoutly bear Your sigil
‘Cross bygone trails, I’m left for scorn
To wear Your chains till garish morn
When I’m greeted by the cackling larks
Who laugh dumbly at my fervent labor
Like the others who chide my misbehavior
Yet none they know of Your loving mark

Prayerfully, Myrra—Still Left in the Dark

Poem by Seraphemme~



Art by TheGardens~


***



She prayed and prayed until her god anwsered.

The children were beautiful.

One by one, she sent them back to her god.