Prophetess

Chapter 2: Pruning the Weeds

Muchie's soft cheek and cold nose nuzzled her awake out of her vision. She fumbled in the dark for her satchel, yanking out the journal she kept on hand for this purpose. She held the pen aloft, paused groggily, then started to write:

I was crouched in a big garden, fenced in on four sides. I was ordered to start pulling the weeds, as they were corrupting the area. I wore thick yellow gloves, stained brown and black with the morning's labor. There were small weeds barely a foot tall all around the outside of the circle, and they grew in size closer to the center of the garden. I somehow knew not to touch the largest of the plants, but focused on the smallest first. It took hours, the sun tortured the back of my neck and my arms ached but I couldn't stop pulling. Each small weed gave in easily to my hands, but the bigger they got the more difficult it was to yank them from the earth.

I got to the very last seven weeds, standing over 6 feet tall each. I pulled the 6 foot tall plant, it was green all the way down and resisted my pruning but I finally was able to cut it free. I pulled the next tallest, this one started to die and withered in my hands while I plucked and I threw it to the side. I pulled the next tallest, it burned my hands through the gloves with poisonous dust and left my hands blistered but I pruned it all the same. I pulled the next tallest, this one over 8 feet tall. It stood proudly with many layers of leaves that choked the ground for its own nourishment. I pulled the next tallest, this one was green near the roots but blackened halfway up the stem, its life force draining slowly as it was taken. Finally, I circled around the tallest weed. This one had a sturdy base and rose higher than my eyes could see. An axe appeared in my hands, and I started hacking the trunk. It was fresh with life, covered from bottom to top in beautiful white flowers and small leaves. They trembled as the green growth took each hit, and started to sway. My hands grew calloused and blistered as I kept at it, until it was ready to collapse.

I stopped and stood back, and let the wind push it slowly, gently from its towering height. It fell with a crash and the flowers puffed out and away in the wind, the trunk of it disintegrated in a black cloud of ash as I watched.

Then the Lord spoke to me, "Each of these plants represent one of the nations; their actions and their abuse of power in the days to come. How they will rise and fall, how they will spread hate or chaos, and how you--my prophets--will reach the people through me to be their salvation."

Muchie sensed Arella's pen fall from her hand and jumped on her back. She turned over in her sleeping bag and pressed her cold hands into his cheeks. Grey light was seeping through the tent, so she pushed herself up and started braiding her hair again carefully.

Coming out of the tent, Arella saw Cas sitting at the makeshift fire pit they had used to cook their dinner last night.He had already built a new fire and stoked the logs with a long branch. Shadow lay curled beside him, seemingly still asleep. She stirred a bit fitfully, until Muchie went over and laid his small front paw on her scruff. He started kneading gently and hummed until she opened her eyes groggily. She yawned and stretched, turning to look at him with her tail wagging. 

Cas didn't even look up, but said "Break your fast," and handed the prophetess a small piece of toasted bread and a sliver of meat. She ate obediently, wrapped up in her own thoughts. Where to go next....

The answer floated into her mind as if it was someone else's thoughts, "Esdras," she blurted out loud. Cas looked at her out of the corner of his eye, then nodded and began packing up their gear.  Arella had her satchel already together, so she began to take down the tent while Shadow paced back and forth between them.

"Did you eat?" she asked, once everything was secured and ready.

"No," he said simply. She flushed and turned to glare at him.

"Are we low on food? Money? Do we lack anything!? No! So you should eat too, you must! Especially going all the way to Esdras, it'll take us at least a full day to get there! Cas, you can't fast every day it's not--"

"I'm not hungry," he said, ignoring the outburst.

"That can't be true, Casperit. It can't--"

"I eat. Enough to survive. But I've overcome the  reliance on food, the need to stuff myself without cause. It makes me stronger, more alert. I do it to survive. For us."

Shadow whined, and pushed her head into Cas's left hand. His other hand lay casually on the falcata as if he were pondering his own words.

"At the next inn I insist you eat with me. A full meal, not just coffee."

"I'll do as necessary," the barest semblance of a smirk shadowed his face for just a moment, "Stop worrying about dumb shit. Let's keep your focus on the Journey."

Arella sighed with feigned irritation, then turned to hide a reluctant smile behind her hand. He was the only person who treated her so kindly and carefully while at the same time never afraid to be completely blunt and up front with her. In this era of uncertainty and fear, it was a relief to be with someone who could keep control. She needed him more than she could admit to herself.

They walked.

It was a full day's walk to the tribe of Esdras. The sun rose slowly as they trudged, it's blazing heat of late summer time burrowed into them and tried its best to burn their skin. Cas and Shadow led the way, the dog circling Arella and back as she tried to keep pace. As evening time started to creep up to the sky, it spilled orange and red onto the city in the distance.

Esdras was the hectic base of one of the southern tribes, all of which had been scattered throughout the continent. This city retained relics of the past, but unlike most places it put forth enough resources towards the upkeep of the capitol and the surrounding village.  Arella saw its concrete city wall, reaching 50 feet tall and stretching farther out to the left and right than they could see. They passed broken-down buildings, rotted structures barely hanging on their frames. The land here was long abandoned, scattered refuse littered the earth. Nothing moved, but the wind blew quietly around as it stirred through and swept away as if it wasn't worth troubling.

Arella looked in awe at the crumbling relics left from the past. She glanced up at an obtrusive, decrepit sign. It swayed in the breeze, a brown pole held a strange shape. The cartoonish figure of a pig on its hind legs, wearing an apron and a chef's hat holding a spatula. It said B B Q in huge vertical letters down the pole. It was decaying with dirt and rust, and as she walked closer there swung behind the sign a flag of the old country. Red and white stripes, with a dark blue square and white stars. The flag was tattered and beat about by the wind as it framed the bloated, grotesque pig and stood out to her.

Greed, gluttony, laziness, lust...they engorged and caused their own destruction, a voice hummed lightly in the back of her head.

Cas scanned the sky as their party approached the front gate.

"They should still be allowing guests," he said, making his way up the main path. Two black clad Orders stood by the doors with their metal staves, talking with a small group of travellers. They were clearly refugees from their ragged clothing and gaunt faces, probably fleeing from the north just like most people on this route. The taller Order handed them back their paperwork and knocked twice on the gate.  A plump woman in slick brown pants and a work shirt opened the gate and led the group away. It slammed shut behind them and the men turned to face them solemnly.

Cas went up and handed the shorter Order on the left identity papers, but the taller one on the right just stared at Arella with searching eyes. He took in her half shaved head,  her brown travel cloak, her cream colored dress, her silver broach, then glanced at Cas and saw his sword and tattoos. He threw out a hand to the arm of his companion and whispered hurriedly in his ear.

The two of them dropped into a half bow at the waist and the shorter Order greeted them properly.

"Prophetess, Guardian, it is our highest honor to welcome you into the humble city of Esdras. Please, forgive the inconvenience, you may give your visions to one of our scribes or to a messenger who will deliver it to the town publisher. I will call for a guide."

The taller one turned and knocked three times on the gate, and the same woman flung it open almost at once, her face pale with anxious excitement. Cas faced the prophetess and pulled her hood over her head almost fully covering the eyes, then put his arm around her shoulders and cautiously strolled into the city.