To Save the World...

Chapter 5

Musara stood, gazing at the dark doors before her. Tall, arched, and completely black beyond even the blackness stain or paint could bestow, they absorbed all light and eclipsed the vision. The only thing that broke the eye-catching blackness were the two silver door handles. Against the absolute blackness, they appeared almost blindingly brilliant, even in just the light of the single torch in the bracket on the wall opposite the doors.

She reached out her hands, fingers slowly grasping the silver, fingertips lightly grazing the words etched above and below the long handles. The seeming brilliance of the silver hid the words from sight, but Musara knew them, even as her fingers and thumbs caressed the letters.

Above the left silver handle was the word ASK. Below the handle curved the word ANSWER.

The etched letters above the right silver handle proclaimed REQUEST, while the letters below replied RECEIVE.

Taking a deep breath, Musara pulled open the double doors. The breeze that whispered out of the room caressed her hair before dancing with the torch's flame, causing it to sputter and then extinguish.

Musara sighed, closing her eyes as darkness overtook the corridor. She stepped into the room, hearing the heavy doors slowly close behind her with a soft thump.

She opened her eyes to darkness and stepped slowly farther into the room, fighting against the urge to mince forward with hesitating steps.

After she had taken several steps into the room, the sound of the floor beneath her feet changed from the solid, muted tap of boots on stone to the softer shush of crossing a rug. She took a few more steps, then dropped down to her knees. She knelt in silence, feeling the darkness weighing around her as she tried to push away the thoughts and worries of the last several weeks and focus on where she was.

"Messor Vitavi, our lord, our protector, our god," Musara pleaded, "will you speak with me?"

A familiar presence whispered into her mind, Yes, of course, my child. I am here with you. I am always with you.

Musara squeezed her eyes shut against her tears as she whispered, voice cracking, "Then why can't I tell you're here? Why do I feel so abandoned?" She began to sob. "I used to feel your presence always with me. I saw glimpses of your magnificence everywhere. And now... Now, I feel so... alone... deserted... empty... When we need you most... why aren't you here?"

I am here, dear Musara, the voice whispered. Not far from where Musara knelt, a candle's flame burst into existence, the steady tongue of fire unwavering.

An ephemeral hand rested gently on her shoulder. Musara placed her own hand over it, sniffling. "Why did you leave us?"

I never left.

The insubstantial hand left her shoulder and she sniffled, her own hand dropping to the floor. She felt the dampness of the carpet from her tears. She continued to cry. Tears for herself. Tears for the sick. Tears for the mourning and afraid. Tears for all the people she was helpless to save. Tears for the dead.

The hand returned, this time to her cheek, gently wiping away the flowing tears.

"Why?" she croaked out in a whisper.

My people turned their backs on me and instead reached out their hands to illusions, false gods, and themselves.

"But... why this? Why not call them back to you with the love that fills your being?"

They did not listen. They spurned my gifts and the love I offered them. Again and again, they turned their backs and instead built up monuments for themselves.

"Couldn't you have... chosen a gentler way?"

Musara. Dear, dear, Musara. The pain of the people is my pain, too. You cry for the people you serve; I am crying for all of you.

"Then why?" Musara whispered, eyes squeezing shut once more, turning her face from the hand.

I did not cause this.

"But—"

My people, in relying on themselves and their false gods, turned from me, which delighted the devils, inspiring them to sow chaos and pain with abandon. In causing torment, the demons cause my people to curse my name, which delights the devils all the more.

"But... Messor Vitavi," Musara swallowed loudly around the lump in her throat. "You are all-knowing and all-powerful. Surely, you could stop this."

I gave my people free will. They have chosen to leave me.

"I don't understand," Musara whispered. "The more they suffer, the more they doubt you. Surely, if you reached out and saved them, they would turn back to you."

For a time. Then, they would forget and move one, and once more rely upon themselves.

"So, you're just... abandoning us?"

An insubstantial arm slid around her shoulders, drawing her closer to the presence filling the room.

Ah, Musara, my child. My people are my children; I could never abandon any one of you.

"Then... what?"

Sometimes, a parent must allow their child to make their mistakes, even if it means allowing pain, so the child may learn.

"People are dying," Musara whispered, biting back another sob.

All those who have fallen are already with me, held in my arms. They have found peace and rest.

"Then where does that leave those of us left behind?"

Awaiting the one who will save you.

"If you won't save us," Musara asked, voice cracking against more unshed tears, "who will?"

I am already walking among you, my mighty presence hidden in mortal form. I will show my people, my children, how great is my love for them, even when they have spurned me.

"I... don't understand," Musara whispered.

No, not yet. But, you will.

Musara knelt, silent, head bowed. The presence of her god still surrounded her, one ephemeral arm over her shoulders, holding her close.

Taking in a shaky breath, she finally admitted aloud, "I'm... so afraid. All the others are gone, and I'm the only one left. I was only an acolyte—I never aspired to be High Priestess. The people are in pain and afraid and desperate... I don't know how to help them. It feels like whenever anyone comes to me, whatever choice I make, more people are hurt. I don't want to make the wrong choice. I don't want to cause more people pain. And you feel so far away. It feels like you've turned away from us." She finished in a whisper, "I'm so afraid."

Fear not, Musara. I am with you. I love you and I will never leave you.

A second arm came around her, drawing her in closer.

Musara silently cried, letting herself lean into the ephemeral embrace.