Blackwater Islands dread

he outlined her future, her role, as she had once done for so many others. and perhaps she might have accepted it, were it only her own ego that chafed at being ranked among lessers.

but the listener was not wholly her own, and it was not her who would foremost be insulted by the dreadfather's plan.

she laughed; the rarest and most musical sound heard from the prophet.

have i not already completed your task, my grim? the first task, to call you from the void itself, a smile like a bolt of lightning, gone as swiftly. nonetheless, i will accept this quest, husband. but i cannot accept a rank equal to my lessers. i am a prophet, chosen by our god, and my status must always reflect this. i cannot lead, but neither can i mingle amongst underlings. i will remain with my islands... until you feel i have earned my rightful place.

she swept around him, circling, inspecting. or perhaps you would have me depart? learn the secrets of those who might threaten your rule? hound the steps of those who earn your ire? you need only say the word, my love.

flank pressed to his, mouth at his ear. never forget: i chose you, that day in the mountains. i was the first... and i will be the last.