To Save the World...

Chapter 1

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Copyright © 2023 Christine Bronk. All rights reserved.

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"Oh, great Messor Vitavi, our Lord of Abundance and Bringer of Prosperity, reveal to me why the deluge of fire has befallen us," Musara prayed, closing her eyes as she cast the divining coins, splayed fingers sending the coins fanning out through the air.

Bronze, silver, and iron coins clinked and clattered as they collided midair; the surrounding candles lending the round metals flashes of light and brief reflections of flame as the coins bounced, rolled, and landed on the cloth spread across the stone altar.

Once the coins had all settled into their places on the cloth, Musara leaned forward, still mumbling a prayer under her breath. Green eyes widened in disbelief. Lean, shaking fingers snatched the coins back up, cupping them closely while she looked around. The candles around her flickered.

She sighed, eyes falling shut as she jingled the coins cupped in her hands.

"Lord Messor Vitavi, I thank you for answering my prayer," Musara whispered. She shook the coins in her hands harder as she said, "Please, deign to answer me again. Messor Vitavi, Lord Protector and our provider, reveal to me why the plague has overtaken us."

The coins once more flashed in the light of the candles as the coins rained from her fingers to bounce and roll across the cloth.

Green eyes slowly opened and Musara gasped as she saw the configuration. "All the coins together," she whispered breathlessly. "Twice. All gathered on the lower right quadrant. So... both the volcano and the sickness... is because of us. We've done something..." She looked up from the ominous bundle of coins as footsteps echoed in the empty room.

"My Lady, Priestess Musara," the temple guard said as he bowed. "I apologize for interrupting you, but Lord—"

"Do you have an answer yet?" Lord Delven snapped as he stepped out from behind the guard.

"L-lord Delven!" the guard protested. "That is not how you address the high priestess!"

"I'm done with groveling. Sitting on my knees all day hasn't stopped the people from dying. It hasn't stopped the smoke rising from the mountain. It hasn't even brought any rain to help quench the fires from the mountain that still rage in the forests around us."

Musara brought her hands together, long sleeves sliding forward to overlap, hiding her hands, so all that could be seen of the priestess was her green eyes, which looked at the lord with contempt. If you ever truly grovel, probably even Messor Vitavi himself would be struck dumb! she thought, eyeing his impeccable violet silk shirt and soft black pants. She stared hard at his unruffled, spotless outfit. If you've been kneeling all day, why isn't the dust that chokes us all on your knees?

Lord Delven stalked across the stone floor, boots echoing loudly in the room. "People are dying from the fires, the smoke, the sickness. Animals are dying. Crops are failing. The people are scared as they watch loved ones wither away and die. They come to me for answers."

"Stop," Musara demanded loudly, standing up straighter from behind the altar. "Come no closer, lest you risk the wrath of Messor Vitavi. None but his chosen priests and priestesses may be near the altar."

Lord Delven stopped, boots clicking together as he stood, waiting.

"I have consulted—"

"And do you have an answer yet, priestess?" Lord Delven interrupted. He moved forward two more steps. He looked around, then back to Musara. "Well. Didn't you warn me something would happen if I came closer? Yet, here I stand. Maybe the people are right—Messor Vitavi has abandoned us." He turned on his heel and began walking toward the door, adding with a snarl, "If he ever really existed."

Musara bowed her head, eyes closing as the candles around the room flared brighter, flames growing taller.

With a cry of terror, the temple guard fled the room.

The candles stopped flickering, tongues of flame growing taller, yet eerily still as a wind blew around the room, swinging the tapestries and swirling Musara's robes around her feet, pulling her hood down over her face.

The tongues of fire each leapt from their wicks and landed on Lord Delven.

The flames consumed him before he could scream and the room fell into utter darkness as the flames flickered out over the pile of ashes. The wind softened, swirling the ashes into a conical pile on the stone floor before dying away. An ankle-high pile of ashes, shape cruelly reminiscent of the angry mountain outside the city, was all that remained of Lord Delven.

"Thus is the fate of all who spurn Messor Vitavi," Musara whispered into the darkness. Thus will our fate be, if I do not find a way to rectify the wrong.