Into The Valley of the Shadow of Death, He Feared No Evil

Dorsha awoke from her afternoon meditations with a cry of deepest heartache; her heart trembled under a thin stretch of skin threatened to stop in her chest forever. Sitting there stunned, still trying to process what she had envisioned, the horrower struggled to stand when a fit of sickly coughs nearly overcame her in its suffocating grip as the horrific vision toyed with her sanity as it replayed itself across her rheumy eyes.

In her vision Ravenshadow stood facing the dark path along the Shadow Road. His hair flew in an unseen wind and his eyes were stoic and unemotional; the exact contrast as to how she felt as she watched, unable to intervene in the vision. His brutal, deadly wounds and broken body told her all she needed to know that one of her worst fears has come to pass. Ravenshadow, one of her sons was dead.

Then in her vision the darkness took on a female shape, a translucent wisp of shadow; embraced her son with billowing arms while whispering terrible screams seductively into the his ears. Dorsha watched with renewed horror as Ravenshadow did not so much as resist the enveloping shadow and allowed the embrace of death to deliver him from the mortal realms. 

Dorsha went to her harrow deck frantic, her mind shattered, "False reading." She muttered over and over again turning cards over one at a time. "False reading, false reading, false reading..."