This is a test prologue I'm writing for my story - Whispers of the Ancient Stars.

Whether or not this will make it into the final book is undetermined.

Anyway, here it is! Let me know what you think!

Prologue:
Broken Gods

If only humanity could have understood just how fragile their gods' powers were. 
Zelias roamed the streets of Erylen in the dark. Something was here, though what, they didn’t fully understand.
Powerless indeed. Even after millennia spent as a god, Zelias felt weak. The three Great Souls, of which Zelias was a part, each wandered the kingdom streets, in search of a threat.
They knew not what that threat was, nor what could be done. A great soul could not perceive the mortal world, any better than the mortals themselves.
Zelias raised their draconic hands to the alley wall, scales and claws meeting stone. The kingdom was built upon their own grave, and Zelias could not help but feel sentimental to again roam these grounds.
The place where Zelias, after a lifetime of rejection, finally found acceptance in their final moments.
A tear dropped to the ground. Grief. Zelias could still feel it. This was good. Gods should care for their world.
This city was dying. The trade routes that sustained it and the neighboring lands had been destroyed, whether it was by man or natural forces.
However, Gods shouldn’t have been broken. Zelias was nothing if not broken.
Focus! Zelias told themself. They scanned the streets. The creature had been here. Zelias could feel that much. The signs of a powerful wraith, unnatural blackness spilling across the ground like blood, were only visible to a spirit’s eyes.
Such a dominant wraith should not have been able to manifest without the notice of the Great Souls, and the seal was strong. The suffering of Zelias and their companions was enough to ensure that the raging souls of the dead were contained.
The trail led down the alleys. Zelias followed them. There did not seem to be any pattern to where they led, until Zelias, after several hours of following, found the creature that they hunted.
Rayah, unsurprisingly, had reached it first. Zelias’ companion stood stiff, clad in bright, flowing robes adorned with swirling patterns, reminiscent of Zelias’ old blade. She stood, watching with horror at a mortal man, who hunched over a barrel, shaking and suffering alone in the dark.
To the Souls, it seemed to be born of dark blood. The Wraith was still bonded to a living creature?
“They are suffering.” Rayah said, “I tried to listen. This person only cries in agony.”
“How?” Zelias whispered, “How did this happen?”
“I don’t know.” Rayah admitted, “There seems to be no trace of anything other than this dark creature. I… I don’t believe there is anything we could do.”
“We could find a champion.” Zelias said, “Have a mortal come to drive a blade through their heart. Surely it would be a mercy.”
“No.” Rayah said, “We let it die on its own. It is not yet dire enough for a Champion. For now, I say we let it live. That is…”
“Unless it manages to pose a threat.”
Rayah nodded.
The sun began to rise, exposing the fragile souls to mortal eyes. Rayah looked toward Zelias, then toward the broken person. She faded, returning to the star that was her home.
Zelias watched her leave, then again glanced at the suffering creature. They did not find grief this time. As Zelias looked at this creature, they found only hatred.
That was a clear sign that they had to leave. If Zelias let themselves betray the other two, and had a Champion slay this creature… It would not end well. Hatred from a god would only end in catastrophe. 
In an act of restraint, Zelias left the suffering creature to die in the streets.
 

A bit short, as it's a relatively new part of the story. Let me know your thoughts!