Since that day, Drae had been plagued by visions of tragedy and death. Despite her efforts to inform the sources of her visions, no one believed her until it was long past too late. She'd accepted, at that tender age, that she must've been cursed by the gods themselves. Most of the denizens in town wrote her off as the Batshit Belle of Delphi Garden Square, blinded to the obvious truths right in front of their noses. There goes the Batshit Belle, they'd whispered just loud enough for her to hear, but not loud enough to be condemned socially impolite.
None of her visions had ever been taken seriously before, Drae figured the current one would be no different. She pushed away her untouched meal as the memory of the scene she had recently witnessed, crept back to the front of her mind. She'd seen a realm of mortals, and a kingdom falling deeper into the trap of poverty, starvation, and disease. It was a vision of a population dwindling down to a slow, agonzing death.
Drae's stomach flip-flopped as she recalled the smell of corpses decaying, and seeing desperate denizens harvesting what meat they could from the newly dead. The despair, the anguish, the ravages of power corrupted absolutely. She could feel herself trembling from the terror of an entire kingdom near death. "Cassandrae!"

To be continued... thanks for reading!

© LaKeisha Hart

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