Egg story

Egg of The Perfect World Backstory Information.

	Eggs original name, before THE CHANGE was Brusher, a fieldworker for archaeologists, he had a mind, and used it well, despite the shortcomings of his species, he followed orders when given, and was well trusted, he made a decent name for himself among his peers, though quiet and sometimes an errand boy for messages when he was younger. Time ago, when the world was much different from the way it is now, it was just an ordinary day on the dig site, some island dig, what was now Fortunes End.
He was a curious soul during the night, it was when he felt most at home, the dark always gave him comfort, the silence of it all, the damp moist air, the chill of the wind, he'd spend his time reading into the late hours about artifacts and locations hes been to and items he's helped recover
One of these nights he took a stroll, the night being quiet, and his ability to see just fine in the dark aided him on his strangely longer than usual wander
There in an almost instinctual turn, he started turning over a strangely formed set of rocks, it took awhile but the out of place-ness fascinated him, as in a way he felt like it was speaking to him directly, being an out of place fellow with little to no real kinship
Egg, or Brusher, liked to collect things as well, usually colorful pieces of paper, or ribbons he'd tie into his feathers, but he had a soft spot for shiny things, another setback for his species at times, as they normally fall into thievery and the way of the vagabond...
Under these stones, once fully removed was a black, almost liquid in appearance metal, that took the form of a supernatural shape, almost twisting and bubbling in a small trench where the rocks just laid, he saw his reflection, a sad, lost, and aimless creature, despite his fairly comfortable and interesting life, the reflection depicted sadness and a sick despair in with a vacant stare.
Brusher stared at this for awhile, puzzled it by as he realized maybe this is how he really is, rather than what would be;
but as he stared he noticed almost a sense of power with it all, a great force of power almost like he's never fathomed in himself, it made him ever so curious.
He immediately felt better about the reflective pool, only to reach out and discover it was a solid object.
Lifting it in confusion, it twisted and boiled down his hands, under his feathers, and up to his face until he was blinded, this once seemingly shiny solid mass turned into an inky black mess, covering most of his body, screaming thoughts  and messages of cataclysmic change that most probably wouldn't survive. Now in his head, ideas, prophecies, how he will be kept alive to fulfill his duties to the Raven Queen
he knew not what this meant, and once he came back to his senses and went back to rest, the entire camp was dead.

With the viscous matter was in his mind and now with him a 3 eyed raven, at his every step, ready to take orders, and giving just as many, where to go, what will happen, but never an answer to his questions fueled by confusion and madness,
all he knew was he was being compelled by voices to hunt the undead and that soon a cataclysmic event would happen, and he'd have to be ready.
Years went by and his mind grew weaker and filled with the thought of death
his own, others, and the abominations he was now hunting, a slave to a patron he knew not, was it his ego and moment of selfishness in what was a comfortable life that brought him to it? Or was it meant to be all along? he could not tell, and soon was not able to tell much of anything
he kept records of his change
then one day the cataclysmic event prophesied unto him for years, tormenting him with knowledge he couldn't understand.

After the comet, unsure of how his life was preserved.
He wandered the island in search of life, anything that wasn't undead, an endless onslaught. For what could be seen as forever, and
eventually working his way off the island by accident, and stumbling on other continents void of the life that once inhabited it. doomed to patrol the wastes nearly alone.
Traveling alone, empty, confused, and silent.
eventually people came back to the world, but did not greet him with much kindness
throwing more rocks and iron than conversation his way,
so he took to caves, forests and deep canyons, anywhere the voices told him to go
years passed, not that his perception of time was what it used to be after living so long, a century feels like a week, and in his mind, time had no boundaries, twisting and turning, and boiling like the strangeness incarnate now in his head.
Eggs last memory of his true self was wishing for death in that of a state of fear and confusion.
is what the reflection foretold
but not that he'd ever know what any of it meant again
so now, he thieves, cheats, and goofs off where he can, slacking on what the voices tell him, until one day after stealing a silver mirror on the run.