The Morrígan
phantom queen, crow of the slain
airThe Morrígan wheels above the battlefield as three crows, foreseeing who will fall; to dream of her is to be shown the ending of a thing before it comes, and asked to meet it without flinching.
Fragments
She washes bloodied armour at a ford no living road can find, and the warrior who meets her there learns the shape of his own last morning.
When the fighting is done she settles the fields in feathers, calling the dead by name so that none of them go into the dark unremembered.
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