The Village ofGrusnabi
POV: Kaitarra
We are running out of resources….
In under a month, our village would meet its end, and we'd have nothing but the Infernal Surge to blame for it. Ten years ago, the massive clump of clay appeared miles from the coastline without source or reason. It came soon after our gods, true titans, and demi lords had left. Many say that the forbidden island spawned as a curse to our once flourishing home, where many of us beastkin practiced The Path of the Light. We were one of very few branches left, our other disciples of the Light succumbing to darkness. I couldn't blame them—desperation, confusion, and manipulation could lead even the strongest of us astray. It was a difficult endeavor to fight this plague that continued to threaten our way of life, the Infernal Surge casting its dark clouds over us each and every day.
Fighting the waves of demons that spawned from those clouds was incredibly taxing. The mist from the surge was particularly fond of nightfall, where our source of light was limited. They promoted scrimmaging among the trees after midnight, and they loved to spread out and hunt my people in droves.
The darker our borders were, the better for those savages. The Ecuzni Sect believed that Pethium, the God of Malady and Plague, had touched our Grusnabi before his mysterious disappearance, but it feels like his presence had never left….
The Path of the Dark—their influence ran its course no matter our circumstances. The disciples of those discrepant gods would never rest, and neither would I.
In the face of adversity, I gave an oath to stand and fight, with everything that I was worth, and everything that I stood for.
Despite our grim times, my spirit refused to surrender. Our food stores were meager, our water wells depleting, and our once lively wildlife was dwindling away, but I had faith. Even when we'd reached out to our sister-lands for aid, and they wanted nothing to do with us, my hope held strong. To them, and much of everyone else around us, we were tainted. If we helped, we'd become hopeless too, I heard many of them say. At some point, I was so tired of the excuse that I'd almost forgotten my place as a high priestess of the all women Ecuzni Sect and spoke outside of my tongue. But my work here at the temple… it meant everything to me. It saddened me seeing my sisters so helpless, that despite all of my efforts, our morale continued to plunge.
Until we eradicate the surge, our reputation would never change, but that didn't mean that aid would never come….
"I believe in the prophecy," I whispered to myself as I sat cross-legged before the divine pool of our underground temple. "Our guardian is near. And my people will not fade."
I looked down into the pool as it revealed my reflection. I wore a long white robe that matched the color of my four feathery wings. My long platinum locks were pinned behind my head with floral clips, keeping my strays away from my face. Not a hair was out of place, and not a wrinkle fell on my attire. I was an image of perfection, a symbol of calm in the midst of chaos. My fingers traced along the warm waters infused with the ley lines of our beginnings, The Tree of Infinity, where it was said that our gods and all creation in the universe came from. With my title came responsibilities, and one of my roles in the sect was to channel these ley lines and talk to our goddess, Amossira.
To my sect, I was an oracle. My special connection with the divine ley lines had always been treasured in our small village. Not even our Elder had such a bond, not in the magnitude as Ecuzni's high priestess. The goddess spoke to me through prayer and meditation, unveiling truths, delivering prophecies, and occasionally providing guidance in the darkest times. I had thought for a while that my powers were fraudulent, caving into those nonbelievers who rumored that I was conning everyone. But the messages I received were too potent, too specific to be anything but divine.
Which was why I clung onto salvation. The first time I realized I had this special gift was when Amossira whispered news of a prophecy to me. I was very young at that time, and still a servant to the sect. The prophecy spoke of a hero who would arrive at the first light of dawn, as bare as the sun and as bright as its rays. A hero who would cut through our trials and tribulations and set forth a new era of perseverance and prosperity. A hero, seemingly ordinary, who would harness the power to conquer all wickedness and free our land from its relentless grip. The longer I thought about it, the more my heart swelled up in my chest. My purpose in this prophecy was to be her compass, showing her the way to our freedom.
I believed that with her mighty blade, and her fierce bravery, she would dispel the unholy clay island and restore balance between light and dark.
My sect Elder believed in the prophecy too, but not because of her own faith. I'd foreseen the disappearances of our six gods and goddesses years ago, and sure enough, it had been 10 long years without them. In this adversity came a challenge I sought to overcome. The ley lines were empty, their words swallowed and their voices quiet. For 10 long years, everything was still, and I was becoming more and more restless with each passing day….
"We need you, my goddess…" I whispered softly, my eyes beginning to swell up with tears. "Our people are dying…."
"I always find you in our sub temple," a raspy voice called from behind me. I turned to face my Elder, a ripe owlkin woman named Athoz. She was well beyond her prime, with a crooked cane to her hip and a hump on her back. Her eyes were milky-white with pupils nearly gone, but her vision was as clear as a bat's.
She wore the same white robe as I did, but on her breast plate were many sashes demonstrating her rank in our sect. As a high priestess, I was below her rank, my sashes limited to three. Her long robe dragged behind her as she took her place next to me on the other side of the divine pool, her attention on the still waters, too.
"Every day for a decade now," she continued, taking two steps closer to the pool.
"Elder Athoz." I bowed, showing my respect, and then answered her, "I am persistent in my duties as a high priestess. I don't find my commitment a burden."
She chuckled. "No one said it was."
"I suspect you are hard at work as well. You've been up for 18 hours."
"When you're my age, you'll find that sleep isn't the only way the mind can rest," she said, with a smile hidden in her gentle voice. With one palm cupping the other at the crown of her wooden cane, she bore her weight into it, a clear sign that she was in fact tired. She refused to tell me what was keeping her up at night. At a certain point, I stopped nudging her about it, feeling my superior would tell me if it were something serious.
"You should get some rest, Elder Athoz," I advised, my eyebrows furrowing in concern. The lines on her face were deeper than usual, and I realized that all of the stress might have finally gotten to her. The burden of our deteriorating land weighed heavy on all of us, but our Elder most of all.
"As you should, high priestess," she replied.
"The waters are dead, and the sensation is crippling."
"Oh, then more of the same," she said defeatedly.
"I cannot sleep when our people are suffering," I replied earnestly, then sighed. "It doesn't make sense that our goddess would abandon us like this."
"The Shuntaki herbs aren't working. You should make arrangements," she said after a long moment of silence, her gaze now turning to me, "and pay your respects before it's too late."
"I do not appreciate where this conversation is heading," I replied as I got up on my feet, with the placidity in my voice strong. She was prone to change the topic in our discussions, though these last few weeks, it had been more frequent than usual. "I've told you before, she isn't going anywhere anytime soon."
She sighed, a deep and melancholy sound that echoed in my ears and made my chest tight. She said nothing for a while, merely basking in the solidity of the temple, as if calculating what to say next.
"I have lived many years," she said finally, fixing her eyes more sternly on me. "But never have I ever witnessed such turmoil within you, Kai."
"I will not entertain this topic further," I said seriously.
She shrugged. "Very well. It is clear that your heart is still troubled. Who am I to test the integrity of our village's moral compass?"
"I am glad to see that despite our circumstances, you continue to revere me as such. For that, I am grateful."
"Our dilemma doesn't negate the respect you've earned, Kai," she said solemnly. "Even in the face of our dire situation, the service you've rendered to our sect remains paramount."
Her eyes smiled at me with promise. "Do not let your heart falter, Kai. The prophecy still has time to unfold."
I nodded, grateful for her comforting words, but they only provided temporary relief—nothing to heal the actual ailment. I looked back at the water, the mystical stillness reminding me of my duty. We had mere weeks left—the thought of the prophecy not coming began to frighten me. But if Elder Athoz had faith, so should I.
"Our hero shall come," she said solemnly, staring into the water. "And when she does, she will need you."
I remained silent, unable to find the right words to respond to her. I was humbled and at the same time, afraid for what lay ahead. The prophecy was a beacon of hope in these dark times, but her absence bore the weight of expectation and the uncertainty of the future.
"I will make preparations for Usindi to look after my mother while I'm gone," I said confidently.
"As for our little temperamental army insisting we evacuate our land?" she asked with an eyebrow up.
"We will not be evacuating," I said strongly. "I will inform General Buliba."
She snickered. "Buliba and her views often clash with yours. It makes for an interesting dramatic comedy."
I fought the urge to roll my eyes.
"She still believes in evacuation."
"That's because she isn't a disciple of the sect, as most girls in our village strive to become."
My elder shrugged. "If everyone was the same, life would be boring, wouldn't it?" She smiled. "I am grateful for her services, however unorthodox they've become."
"Become? She was always unconventional… and not to mention a tad too jaded for my taste."
"She respects you though, Kai," she admitted. "If she didn't, then she wouldn't give your opinions the light of day."
"She ought to respect our village's sect. It's the least she could do after she tainted our women."
Elder Athoz giggled. "So then, high priestess. What's the plan?"
"I'll send for the dragon rider squadron to dispatch across Seiddaya. They will hunt for food, harvest herbs for medicine, and gather intel on water sources. Meanwhile, I will have Buliba strengthen our defensive barriers, and I will search for our hero."
Elder Athoz, with a pensive look, nodded in agreement. "An admirable plan. But remember, Kai, it's not just about the survival of our village but also its spirit. Our people look to you for guidance during these trying times."
"My very being is devoted to preserving our way of life," I assured her, my gaze now returning to the silent expanse of our divine pool. "I know that leaving our village before she comes is risky, but it is something I must do. We cannot sit around and wait. Our village can't afford it."
"Well, where would you look?"
"Everywhere I can," I said, feeling the massive amount of responsibility weighing down on my shoulders. To scour this entire region in only a few weeks would be a monumental task, but it was one that couldn't be overlooked. "You'll need to take my place, Elder Athoz."
"Oh no, not I," she refused quickly. "I'm much too old for that. But, I know a bright young pupil that could sit in for you."
I grimaced. "I hope you're not talking about—"
"Very bubbly, very energetic."
"And clumsy to a fault," I reminded her.
"No one is perfect, Kai. Your pupil would be perfect for the job!"
"High Priestess! High Priestess!" a boisterous voice cried out.
Just as I was about to make another comment about my priestess acolyte, Tanvi, she stormed right in, her heavy panting breaths echoing along the cavernous walls of the temple. Elder Athoz stepped to the side to see the leopardkin behind her, and I walked the distance around the pool to meet with her.
The look on her face worried me. Something was wrong.
"High Priestess!" she wailed again, and then dropped down to her hands and knees. Tanvi bowed to us as she struggled to catch her breath.
"What's wrong?" I asked her.
After a loud gulp of air, her flushed face looked up to us and screamed, "Buliba brought a man to our village!"
I stared at her confused. The village of Grusnabi didn't have any men. We had youth under the age of 14, but no one of the opposite sex worthy to be called a man. They all died during village raids years ago, and they died honorably. They had defended women and children from other regions who thought us weak enough to suppress, and because our gods had vanished, we had no divine defenses.
It was at that time we built a stronger army, and Buliba had been doing a pretty good job at keeping our borders safe. So the first thought that crossed my mind was that this man was an outside spy, and Buliba caught him in her net.
"Where did Buliba catch this man?"
"In a swamp, a few miles from us," she heaved.
"All right then. Let her handle him."
"Um," she paused, scratching the side of her chin.
"What is it, Tanvi?"
"Well, the decision of what to do with him is causing a lot of tension in our village, High Priestess…."
"What kind of tension?"
"Respectfully, you should see this for yourself!"
I turned to Elder Athoz skeptically. I had no clue what I'd be walking into. Either way, I excused myself, Elder Athoz insisting she stay here in the temple just in case. I doubt the situation was something Buliba and her warriors couldn't handle. When I met the sun's gaze above ground, Tanvi dashed off even faster. She was a leopard beastkin after all, and very fast on her feet. Sometimes she didn't realize she'd left me in the dust, the girl backtracking three times already. At this point I decided to fly, seeing as the situation was urgent for her. When she told me we were close, I descended, and the outlook before me nearly made me trip on my feet as it met the ground again.
"See?! He's over there!" Tanvi cried, my eyes ballooning to the scene of warriors surrounding a half-naked man tied to a pole. I walked in closer, noticing that he was unconscious as he knelt on the ground. His waist was bent forward as tight ropes linked his bound wrists and ankles to the long pole. His arms stretched long behind him, his wet hair dangling over the damp hot sand they imprisoned him on. I couldn't see much of him with how slumped over he was, but I could barely see the tapered end of the loin cloth that was draped over his indecency.
"High Priestess?" I heard Tanvi called out, snapping me out of a momentary daze.
"Oh, morning, your highness!" Buliba said, waving over to me delightfully. "I see you eying my morning catch! I found him in Esbetha's Swamps. Wanna' help me carve up this turkey?"