The golden fire flickered with immense vitality, feeding of the divine nature of the sacrifice presented for its consumption, to all others the flames seemed little out of the ordinary but to the prophet they held secrets only he was beholdent to know.Glaring into the flames he could spare him glimpses of the many paths the future could take, and how ones choices today affected their life tomorrow.
The first of his visions was one was that of the camp, with the moon high in the sky and the people scattered around like insects caught in an never ending storm, through the sharp eyes of Damian he could see a terrible creature, a mass of roots and bark reaching out from the deeps of the dark roots hungrily snatching sleepers for them to never be seen again. Damian was wielding the beautiful black bow he had seen in another vision of the future some time before, firing off shots one after another towards the lurking threat all whilst protecting an injured sleeper right behind him, he couldn't see the sleeper clearly so there was no time to warn them.
The vestiges of battle quickly burnt away and instead were replaced by a small convoy of ships separating off in differing directions down the river, one further inland towards the unknown and the other towards the titanic lake and its alluring castle. Prophet had already known his choice even before he found himself in the dreamrealm, he was fated to lead a group of sleepers inland whilst mechanic or Warden as he would soon be known was fated to lead them to the castle to face a fierce foe. He had long known his path to glory yet he was curious as to what challenges the others would face.
For his visions had a glaring weakness, he could only see the future for those whose blood was fed to his divine flame, and even then only blood marked by the essence of the Divine were strong enough to fuel his future sight which made viewing the futures of others near impossible unless he had witnessed it himself, but now he had a new set of eyes to look through instead, hoping to gain insight into the mysteries he had yet to learn yet already knew.
He wanted to learn the secrets of the Divine, and he had to know what Warden discovered in the castle for he knew he would never make it there himself, for that was not his fate, his understanding of fate was simple and likely flawed but he saw it as such. Fate was composed of a number of different key events in a person's life and these key events would never change no matter how hard you tried to avoid them, yet the path taken towards these events could differ. He had found this out after helping a fellow sleeper back in the waking world, saving him from a brutal death only for him to die the same way a short time later. He had always been destined to die that way so the when, where and why didn't matter.
Any event could be broken down into one or multiple categories, those being Who, What, where, when and why, this means that no matter how much you fight against fate it will always catch up to you, but his aspect allowed him to see the paths one could travel but not the events themselves. So he knew if he ventured towards the castle his fate would be sealed much faster than if he ventured down the river. He had believed to have figured out the when and where of his death was undetermined, which made him relieved, but by watching others' views he may be able to figure out the other parts and prevent his death all together, or maybe the deaths of his comrades.
The next vision was of an endless onslaught of undead nights, relentlessly charging as their commander loomed in the background with a glaive in hand effortlessly crushing the sleepers who had managed to draw too close with an unrelenting crushing force. Its armour was old and weathered yet its presence was unlike anything else he had seen so far.
The final vision was much more a blur than the rest as if a force was pressing against his senses dulling them even from beyond time itself, yet what he could see was a strange sight, the scorched remains of a magnificent throne room, a tall throne sat on a raised dais with a pair of intricately sculpted pillars rising from behind as an armoured steel fist repeatedly slammed into the ground cracking the intricate stone work into dust, blood covered the armour with torn pieces of metal and remains scattered all around with a lone figure standing by his side.
The visions broke away as the flames burnt away the last of the blood, he had wished to gain more from these visions yet he knew that it was pointless, unless he convinced the man to change his path his future would remain the same. The Prophet could change his own much easier as he knew and trusted in what he saw, more than that his power seemed unable to pierce too far into Damian's future compared to his own, it could be due to his weaker link to divinity, or perhaps the nature of his aspect, maybe even both.
The golden light infusing the brazier died out leaving the stone looking weathered and worn even more so than it had before, cold sweat was running its way down his face as he focused on his breathing, his abilities took a toll on his body every time they were used to peer into the future, yet he had learned a valuable lesson or two in watching the path this man would take. He knew they didn't have much time, so instead he simply hurried forward, rushing past the man as a whirlwind of sparks formed between his hands as a greatsword of lustrous silver metal formed in his hands, its edges were razor sharp with its guard and handle the colour of the night sky.
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Damian watched as the man ran past him with startling speed, whatever he had seen in the coming future must have been truly horrific indeed, following behind the man as quickly as he could there was a sudden change in the world around them, grabbing a quiver of arrows left on the workbench on his way out. The ground began to tremble slightly, with each moment the force of the vibrations growing larger and larger as all the members of the camp grew cautious, summoning offensive memories or picking up nearby tools to use to defend themselves.
As the world shook a familiar scent filled the air as the smells of the sea and storm roared across the plateau as an omen of death, it was only with his enhanced sight he managed to catch the glimpse of a peculiar sight, flying high above the trees a lone bird soared through the sky trying its best to fly as quickly as it could, just a few moments after it peered over the trees did it dissipate into a rain of sparks which faded into the moonlight.
As if from nowhere a pale light could be seen streaking across the forest floor towards their camp, the sleeper force prepared themselves for battle but there was little they could do to prepare for what approached, as what looked like a bolt of lighting broke through their defensive line with ease before making a sudden stop in the thick mud of the riverside, tracking up several meters worth of mud and tumbling over himself before crashing into the ground. The whole camp had turned to face the strange intruder, all but Damian as he looked out into the forest as the tremors continued to approach from beyond the trees.
A constellation of sparks wove themselves into his hands forming [Ariadne's WarBow], as he steadied his aim, waiting for the creature to reveal itself.
(Note: It has been brought to my attention that [Ariadne's WarBow] has been mislabeled as [Ariadne's Long Bow] a few times and I apologise for any confusion, and thank you xSage_Timex for pointing out this error, I will do my best to keep it consistent for the future)