The Prophecy: Withering Roots

Chapter 1: A Dark Awakening

The dream was peaceful at first.

Morria found herself standing in a meadow that stretched far beyond her sight. The grass beneath her bare feet was soft and cool, and the air smelled sweet, filled with the scent of wildflowers. She smiled, breathing in the warmth of the sun as it bathed the field in golden light. It was a place of perfect stillness, where the world felt whole, untouched by time or worry.

She knelt down, running her fingers through the tall grass, her heart light. In the distance, birds chirped, and the soft rustling of leaves in the breeze made her feel as though everything in the world was at peace. There was a sense of belonging here, as though this meadow was a part of her, or perhaps she was a part of it.

Then, through the gentle hum of the breeze, she heard a voice—soft, feminine, and calm.

"Morria..."

Her name, carried by the wind, sounded almost like a lullaby. Morria straightened, looking around. There was no one in sight, yet the voice seemed so familiar, so comforting. It felt like home, though she couldn't place why.

"Morria..." the voice whispered again, this time from behind her.

She turned, expecting to see someone standing in the sunlight. But instead, her eyes fell upon a great, twisted tree, gnarled and ancient, standing in the middle of the meadow. Its branches were bare, clawing at the sky, and the bark was dark and withered, as though life had long since fled from its roots.

Morria's smile faded.

The birds had gone silent, and the breeze that had once been so gentle now felt cold against her skin. She stepped back, her gaze fixed on the blackened tree. Something was wrong. A chill ran down her spine as a dark shadow began to creep from beneath the tree's roots, spreading across the grass.

"Morria..." The voice came again, but now it was different—no longer calm and soothing. It was strained, as though struggling to reach her. And then, louder: "Morria, RUN!"

The meadow began to wither.

The flowers wilted and died before her eyes, the vibrant colors bleeding away as the dark shadow raced toward her. The sun dimmed, the sky turning a sickly grey, and the air filled with the scent of decay. Morria's heart pounded as she stumbled backward, her feet tangling in the dying grass.

She looked up at the tree again, and this time, she wasn't alone.

A figure stood beneath its twisted branches, shrouded in darkness. Though she couldn't see its face, the feeling of malevolence was unmistakable—something ancient and full of hate. The shadow seemed to grow taller, its presence looming over the withering meadow, consuming everything in its path.

"Morria!" The voice screamed, desperate now. "Run!"

But Morria couldn't move. Her feet were rooted to the spot as the darkness closed in, swirling around her like a living thing. She gasped, her breath caught in her throat, and just as the shadow reached her—

She woke up.