Orion

When the cloak came off, the nakedness beneath it was colored a warm, dark umber color. Something he had never seen before. The shade was one of a kind, like the sun had made love with the melanin that filled her skin like it was her first love. The runes that covered her were light, like they had been etched into her skin by the moon's very own hand. This woman... this creature, she was covered in the symbols they were all taught as children, but a few stood out to Orion the most.

Death.

Consequence.

Chaos.

Liar.

Feral.

What was she?

Orion didn't know, but he knew that he had been shown this dream for a reason: as instruction. You weren't just given dreams like that to log into a book and then forget about. This was a brute divine calling to a subject they deemed fit to do the chore.

Kill her.

Sometimes it takes meeting the right (or wrong) person to show oneself how vile one truly was.