Prophetess

Chapter 4: The Blessing

The road is dark. On all sides, the suffocating air pushes me forward. I stumble, running away from something and at the same time running toward something. I spot a small patch of whiteness up ahead. The smallest speck, and I hear a soft trilling voice calling for help. I approach, to see a small white bean glowing in the grass.

The two handmaidens packed up the array of beauty products and spare clothing that Arella had rejected. The younger, mousy-haired maiden finished tucking a few stray hairs into her now elegantly-styled braid. They had taken small sections and arranged them into an array of half a dozen twists that all intertwined down her back. They had then braided in a black ribbon to show her as a part of the Prophet Class, and a green ribbon to denote her as a part of the Teacher Class. 

    They helped her into the simple silk gown she had chosen from the stack that Mr. LeBeau had sent to her, with the message that she should consider it a tribute to her from the city. It was a pretty dress, black with silver lined embroidery and light blue buttons up the back. They had offered her some old jewelry, but she had turned those down. She wanted to convey the solemnity of the speech she was about to give to the festival, and she knew that the people would be drunk, careless, and already riled up by their own individual passions.

    They must know, the voice spoke again, You will tell them all that you must, but some will not see and will not listen. Some will face their downfall because they ignore the warning you give today. This will lead others back to me.

    Arella felt the voice in her core. He spoke to her at random times—at least it seemed to her—sometimes with wisdom or advice, sometimes with what sounded like angry musings or disappointed mutters directed at no one in particular.

    In her quiet contemplations, the maids had bowed out of the room without making a sound, and Arella stared at her lonely reflection in the spattered round mirror hanging above the fireplace. She could hear the faint roar of a large crowd near the town center, where the festival waited for her and Casperit's entrance. Today was the first of a 3-day celebration. The people would eat, drink, dance, and sing loud to honor the Lord's blessing, hopefully, on their beloved city.

    Muchie paced near the door. This was his favorite part, when the people would shower him with attention and treats. He had a soft blue ribbon tied on around his neck, to show his healing abilities. She had taken Muchie from a run down hospital on its last legs, keeping him prisoner along with a cage full of other Menders--animals given the ability to heal with their touch. They were seen as holy and rare treasures that were sought after with ferocity.  The rest of the captured creatures had fled into the wild as quickly as they could, but Muchie had stayed put, shaking and with a labored purring, wrapped in her arms refusing to leave her side. He and Shadow would be encouraged to join the festival after the Lord's message to the people.

    She opened the bedroom door, and walked straight into Casperit. He wore a dark blue tunic tied with a smooth black belt, the ends of his sleeves and the hem were embroidered with swirls of black and silver lettering in the ancient language. He looked very handsome, if not a little too serious, with his hair slicked back with homemade charcoal gel and his freshly polished travel boots. The falcata, as always, hung on his right side in the sheath ready at a moment's notice for something to go wrong, as could be expected.

    "Ready?" he asked, with a steel look of foreboding.

    "Yes, I think it will be exciting!" Arella beamed at him, "There will be games and dancing. And food, so much food. They even asked what my favorite dishes are. I told them a few of both of ours."

    "Do you have your message written?"

    "Of course," she said, her excitement faltering.

    "I'll just be glad when it's all over. You never know how the people will react, prophetess. We have to always be on our guard."