Eo-Terra, First Age
The last days of Lemuria
Zeth stood near the open door, a part of but apart from the gathering of priests. He reined in his frustration and anger only by dint of will, discipline learned as an acolyte of the Lemurian priesthood. He glared at Madrath, wanting to doubt her words, to deny her repetition of the prophecy, although he knew it must be true.
When she raised her gaze to him, sorrow clouded her normal serene beauty. Her dark eyes swept him from crown to toes. With her wisdom and powers, she read him like a scroll. No matter how badly he hated the fact, there was nothing he could do to change reality. She was high priestess; she was reigning queen; she was his mother.
“It is true, my son. There’s no escaping the oracle’s warning. The great cataclysm is upon us
