To Save the World...

Chapter 8

"The sun will set soon, priestess," Tavin noted quietly as they paused at the crossroads, Musara carefully drawing out the coin of fate from the pouch on her belt as she studied the weathered wood road sign. "Maybe we should make camp. Continue with the journey in the morning."

"Yes," one of the guards agreed. He set his pack on the parched grass and stretched. "Jezra worked herself to almost exhaustion, healing people. You talked yourself hoarse, telling people to return to Messor Vitavi. None of us are used to long journeys anymore. Especially not on foot. A rest here would be nice."

Musara swallowed, cleared her throat, then swallowed again. She opened her mouth to say something, but only a dry rasp came out.

Tavin sighed and handed her a waterskin. "Here, priestess. Darvin is right—you've talked your voice out. But, barring meeting other travelers, we have three days to Lurth," he pointed down the left fork, then pointed down the right as he finished, "or five days to Manark. Either way, your voice should be recovered by the time we arrive."

Musara drank deeply of the water, eyes closing as she relished the coolness in her dry, scratchy throat. She sighed and handed the waterskin back to Tavin. Her voice was quiet and still raspy as she said, "Thank you, Tavin. We shall ask Messor Vitavi which way we must go now." She held up a coin.

"That coin looks different, priestess," the third guard said. "Is it just the red light of this smoky sun making it look like that?" She shaded her eyes, looking at the horizon, where the sun glowed like a red ember amidst the distant clouds of smoke; the smoke billows were limned in pink at the edges were the sun's rays peeked over them.

"No," Musara replied. She held the coin out in the flat of her hand for everyone to see. The side facing up showed the mountain, a star hanging in the air above the peak. The coin's face was a bright pinkish-copper. She flipped it, showing everyone the reverse side. It was black and unshining, the design of clouds barely discernible. "Messor Vitavi gave me this new fate coin for this journey. It is the only coin I am to use when consulting him until our mission is fully complete." She closed her fingers over the coin, holding it close to her chest as she bowed her head, praying softly, "Messor Vitavi, our light and our guide, we find ourselves at a crossroads. Reveal to us the way you would have us go. Shall we continue on to Lurth?" She took a step closer to the left fork, pausing before flipping the coin. She turned to her companions and said, "The bronze mountain means yes. A flip revealing the black cloud means no." She flipped the coin, all five people watching as it flashed in the light of the lowering sun, tracing an arc before falling, still turning, bronze side flashing with each rotation. The coin landed in the dirt of the road, a small puff of dust rising.

Musara leaned over, looking at the coin. "It is black," she announced.

"So... to Manark, then?" the guard asked.

"Maybe," Musara replied. She bent down and picked up the coin. "Let us see." She once more grasped the coin close to her chest while she prayed, "Messor Vitavi, our deliverance and our shield, we stand at this crossroads. Shall we continue on to Manark?" She took a step past the wooden post of the road sign, letting her feet touch the road to Manark, then once more flipped the coin. It spun above her head, then fell. She once more leaned over to look at it. "Black again."

"Then what?" Darvin asked. "Strike out over land without a road?"

"Wait and see," Musara replied. She once more retrieved the coin, rubbing it against her shirt to remove the dust. Stepping to stand with her back to the signpost, and facing her companions, she once more clasped the coin and prayed, "Messor Vitavi, our life and our strength, your servants have worked hard for you this day. Is it your will we set up camp here?"

Everyone watched as the coin flipped through the air in a lazy arc, the bronze face flashing at them every time it caught the sun. Once it landed, Musara once more leaned over to look at it.

"It is bronze."

Tavin nodded and opened his pack, immediately pulling out supplies. The other two guards did the same.

Musara retrieved the coin from the dirt and carefully wiped it off, murmuring, "Thank you, Messor Vitavi, for granting rest for your servants." She joined the guards and Jez in setting up camp.

Musara awoke, gasping. The blanket clung to her sweat-drenched body and tangled her arms and legs as she fought to free herself and sit up. She rolled off the thin mat, then kicked, finally freeing herself from the last of the clinging fabric as she crawled out of the tent.

Cool air hit her face and Musara drew in a deep breath. She slowly stood, legs shaking slightly, and stepped gingerly over to the remains of the fire. She glanced around in the dark, making out the shape of Tavin, lying at the far edge of the camp, opposite the fire from the tent. Someone already sat by the glowing embers.

"You can't sleep either?" Jez asked quietly as Musara joined her.

Musara shook her head, eyes closing, then opening quickly with a gasp as the images from her dream jumped back to life behind her eyelids. She hugged her arms around her knees and stared at the glowing coals, watching as the slight breeze made the edges flare brighter, then fade as the breeze moved on.

"Want to talk about it?" Jez asked.

"Talk about what?"

"Your dream."

"How'd you—"

"I heard you snoring earlier," Jez admitted. "Then you gasped and came out of the tent. I assume you must've had a bad dream. Was it prophetic?"

Musara shook her head. "I... don't think so." She swallowed. "I dreamed of the dead."

"As in, their bodies?" Jez asked. "Or your memories of them, when they were alive?"

"Both," Musara whispered. "In my dream, I watched them die. All of them. And I could do nothing."

"Were you close to them? The people in your dream?"

Musara nodded. "My family. The others from the temple. Friends from around the city."

Jez crept over and sat beside Musara, putting an arm around the priestess's shoulders. "That must've been a terrible dream. Why don't you tell me the good memories you have of them?"

Musara sighed, still gazing into the slowly dying fire, as she allowed herself to lean into the healer's shoulder. She reached back into her memories, seeking the sunlight of happier times, and spoke her memories, the darkness temporarily held at bay.