Prophecy of Mara Alisaedra

The silvery glow of the full moon compassed the night sky, lighting the staircase before her as she ascended them toward the temple.
It was an old and familiar path, one she had traveled since she was old enough to walk.
Her father lived and worked there, for he was a keeper of the holy writ, but she did not come there to visit him; no, She had a far different reason to go to the temple on this night.
The temple she traveled to was built at the base of a towering, steep-sloped mountain called The Spire, named for its narrow steeple-like shape. The temple was shaped like a rectangular cube with several doors and windows lining each side of the building. A tall monolithic tower protruded from the top of the temple, emulating the appearance of the mountain that overshadowed it.
Her name was Mara, Mara Alisaedra, a black leopardess from the northern mountains of Feloria. Her reason for coming this night to the temple was plain for all to see. She was with child, and the father was nowhere to be seen.
Now, Mara was the daughter of a temple scribe and a seamstress, and had taken upon herself to learn from her parents' trades as much as possible. But, unfortunately, she was their only child, meaning they had no real hope of continuing their family name, giving Mara low esteem.
The child she bore in her womb was formed from a secret union with a lion of Arturian blood, the son of that people's king, an adventurer looking for companionship. She was young and foolish, eager to leave her mountain home and see the world beyond The Spire's view, and the words of this maned traveler from the sea sung like sweet melodies in her ears.
One night of passion, one moment of giving in, was enough to change her whole world forever.
On the day they would've said their marriage vows, his father called him back to go to war.
He had not come back since that day, and she prayed daily that he had not met with the death angel.
Unions such as this, between one kind and another, were forbidden by the religious leaders of her people. It was even worse than she had mingled her seed out of wedlock, and with a foreign conqueror, a son of the liberator king Eli Arturius, who had brought self-proclaimed freedom to the coasts of Feloria.

Yes, she entered the temple that night with a heavy heart. The torches' lights reflected off of her tears as she topped the staircase and entered the building. Her garments were made of sackcloth to show her mourning, as was the custom of her people.
It seemed as if she was the only one there if it wasn't for the gentle whisper of a priest or a keeper praying.
She felt as though she was viewed in contempt by them for the sins they believed she had committed.
'Was it a sin since it was committed in love?' she would often ask, but only rebuke and ridicule came from those she once called friends.

Rather than listen to their scoldings any longer, she decided to seek one she knew could help her. That was part of the reason she came here, to seek the counsel of the High God himself, The Creator. She had come to ask forgiveness for her past sins and, if possible, receive a sign for what to do with her unborn child.
Like a creature of the night her dark fur portrayed her to be, she slunk quietly through the temple until she came to the place of her destination, the empty throne of The Creator. Then, reverently she bent on her knees and bowed down before that stone altar, tears still streaming from her eyes, her ears drawn back in sadness. Her throat grew dry as her heart searched for words to say, and her eyes closed as she prepared her prayer.

"Father of the heavens, I come before you as a child laid with sins," She spoke in a quiet, trembling whisper. "Within my womb is a child, formed in adulterous love. This child has been marked for death by my family and loved ones" her quivering hands reached into her pocket and pulled out a small disc made of gold attached to a leather band, and placed it upon the throne.
"I place an empty crest upon your throne, as a sign I give this cub to you, pure, without nation or family, a servant for your future kingdom. If it is your will for my child to live, give me a sign, O Great Father."
She closed her eyes and bowed, continuing the prayer silently in her heart.

"Mara," a soft voice called out to her.

Her ears perked at the sound of the voice, but she hesitated in opening her eyes. Finally, she slowly slipped one eye open, but seeing nothing, she quickly closed it again. She thought perhaps it was one of the keepers wanting to talk to her.

"Mara," the voice called again.

"Y-yes, it is I. Who calls for me, my lord?" she replied, opening both eyes and looking around anxiously.
She was astonished to find that the temple was virtually empty. No one was even close to her.
Her eyes turned back to the throne, her ears drawing back and her eyes widening in awe at what now appeared before the empty seat.

It was a male white panther, with the mane of a lion, his face shaped like a jaguar, and his fur striped like a tiger. His eyes glowed like two suns, and his robes shimmered like fine gold.
He stood before the throne, a glowing hot branding iron in his hand.

She gasped in awe and bowed before him in reverence, her body trembling in fear.

The panther leaned down and gently placed his hand on her shoulder.
"Do not bow before me, Mara of Albinia," he spoke again, "for I am but Tsavah, a messenger of the Highest God, and not one to be honored with reverence."

Marta bit her lip and sat up, her body still trembling. Her tail curled around her knees, its fine coat of fur bristling from the fear that now coursed through her body.

"Forgive me, sir. I thought all things from heaven were to be given reverence."

"Nay, young Mara. Only the Holy One and his Son are to be reverenced and worshiped," He replied, with a gentle smile upon his face. "I was sent by The Creator to tell you he heard the groaning of thine heart, and to bring you a sign from Heaven as you asked for"

The leopardess's heart sunk. What message had this illustrious creature from the heavens brought?
She bowed her head, and her hands gripped the tip of her tail nervously like when she was a cub and was being scolded by her father. She tensed up anxiously as she waited for what he would say next.
With a wave of his hand, the white messenger began to speak.
"The Creator has looked upon your soul and has seen your sadness. He too is sad for you because he cannot honor you for your adultery."

Her head hung even lower as the tears began to pour from her eyes again.

"Please . . . don't let my cub die for what I've done..." she spoke pleadingly through clenched teeth, her hands coming to rest on her stomach as if cuddling the unborn child within her womb.

The messenger bent low and again laid his hand softly on her shoulder.
"Your child will not die," he replied, his voice as gentle as a soft breeze "the sin is upon the one who left you, for he lived only for lust. He has broken the hearts of many young ones like yourself and has sired many cubs. Adventure and war he loves more than the High God himself. The battlefield will be his grave, and no headstone will mark his burial place. As for yourself, you will die in the pains of childbirth, but not before you see the child's face."

Mara nodded and kept her head low, knowing she would never see her lover again or even raise her cub to adulthood.
She turned her tear-blurred eyes up back at the messenger.
"Tell me, will my child have a purpose on this earth?" she asked, curious to see what the Creator intended for her offspring.

"Aye, thy woman of virtue," the white messenger replied, "This prophecy I bring to you, Mara Alisaedra, daughter of the keepers. Through your seed, Feloria will be reunited, and Eli's seventh son will be restored. Even now, King Eli prepares to divide his kingdom among his pride. There will come a day and time when only one of Eli's pride will rule in his father's kingdom, his brothers' inheritance parted among other prides and rulers. This last son will bring the land into darkness, and the vile seeds of the Orionites will corrupt his mind. Then your son's seed will rise against him."

He paused and bent down, taking the bare disc of smoke rose from the crest as he pressed it into the glowing metal, making Mara flinch in surprise. When he was through, the messenger lifted the glowing disc high above his head and continued his speech to her.

"The son you bear will be an outcast and a vagabond, one with the Windwalkers. He will be hunted like a common beast, but no harm will come to him. The phoenixes will be his friends, and the dragons of the desert will be his brothers. When the time is appointed, his seed will return to walk with his brothers, first as a servant, then as a liberator. Give him his father's surname, as it is in your tongue. This seal I give you will be your son's family crest until the Final Judgement. Go and tell your father and mother all of this, and receive their blessing."

And then, in a flash of blinding light, the angelic messenger was gone, vanishing in the form of a dove.

She looked down and saw the crest resting on the throne's seat, still pulsing white-hot from being touched by the iron. Cautiously she reached for the leather strap it was attached to, picking it up to get a better look at it. She gasped silently as she saw that it was no longer blank but was now emblazoned with the profile of a black eagle head upon it.

"The mark of The Phoenix . . ." she whispered, awestruck by what just happened. ".....Praise God for his mercy."

To her people, the Phoenix symbolized renewal, whether in long age, or in keeping a promise. In her eyes, the Creator showed he would always keep his promise to her until time itself would end.

The leopardess stood to her feet and bowed her head once in reverence towards the throne, then she looked heavenward, holding the crest close to her bosom.

"Thank you, my Lord," she whispered softly before turning to leave.

She left the temple in a far greater state than when she had come to it. A smile beamed across her ebony lips, and though her eyes still filled with tears, they were tears of joy, not sorrow.
Upon returning home, she told her family all that had transpired in the temple that night, with the golden crest as the only evidence of the angel's visitation.

Respecting this message from the angel, but fearing the religious leaders, her parents swore her to secrecy. They kept her in seclusion until the time the cub was due.

True to the angel's words, Mara did die in childbirth, her death coinciding with the dividing of Feloria among the six remaining Arturian princes.

Before she died, she named the child Alisdair. Her parents gave the cub to Mara's betrothed, a shepherd from the hill-country to protect him. He had still loved Mara, but had stepped aside when he saw she had fallen for the foreign prince. So he took the cub into the desert to live among the Windwalkers, the nomads with no place to call home. He took care of him and raised him in her memory. As the cub grew, the mark of the Phoenix stayed with him as a reminder of The Creator's eternal promise and hope for the future.