The Holy Dream

Prelude Part 2

“What is this doing here? Oh, the poor thing! He must be so scared!” Alice remarked with sympathy. Elisabeth was thunderstruck at such a peculiar happening, and stared.

Sira reached down and picked him up softly, cradling him in her arms.

“There, there, little one,” She whispered. “You’ll be okay. Nothing here will hurt you.” He continued to cry, unaware of his surroundings. It must be bliss, she thought. To be a child; ignorant of the evils of the world. Sheltered from those who would harm them, and without enemies. She thought of her life at the Cathedral, and how it was somewhat similar. But they were not ignorant, nor sheltered! They carried out the will of the Sungod and the people of Lancia.

“Over there, look!” Elisabeth said, coming to her senses.

Sira and Alice looked up through the oranging, dusky rays of the sun that baked the cobblestone to such a nice, crisp temperature. Past the gothic gates of the Cathedral lay a crowd gathering, murmuring and whispering amongst themselves.

“What happened o’er the Cathedral miladies, pray tell?” One man with the courage to shout out exclaimed in their general direction. Sira looked around, realizing they were the only ones that had left, and blushed.

“Little, good sir! The usual rite was performed! The Pyre was lit.” Alice said with surprising false integrity.

The people looked at each other, puzzled. They began whispering and shrugging, until a few looked as if they were to speak out again.

Sira intervened quickly before more questions could be asked, attempting to mitigate the danger of the situation to which Meriloth spoke of.

“My good people, Bishop Theodyr merely put on a show for the Cathedral this fine evening! He cast out his hands in a glorious blaze, shaking the very foundations of our concepts of magic with his attunement to the Sungod!” She exclaimed with pride and a little shame.

Many ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’ emerged from the crowd, a sense of wonderment washing over them as the sun cast a cardinal glow upon the city streets. A few began to disperse, unwary or uncaring of the second anomaly presented by the Cathedral of Heavens that night. Others were not so without perception.

“Priestesses! Who has left such a poor child at your doorstep?” Said a concerned woman from the crowd. Many looked up, and began nodding with worry filling the air.

The women looked at each other, without words. The child still cried in Sira’s arms, but was beginning to quiet down. The sun was quickly fading from sight, and night was beginning to wash over Lancia. Sira could make out the outlines of building tops, banner lines and the city walls in the far distance, with clouds casting a sudden shadow over the surreal sky. The silence was broken by Elisabeth.

“We know not… the child was left here. No one in the crowd can claim ownership of this poor lad? I fear for his future, when he is put in such an unfortunate position.” She said solemnly.

Yet again, the crowd was befuddled. Glances shifted from face to face, questioning the motives of one who would lay their child on the steps willingly, and not have the courage to strike out against their lapse of strength. Many shook their head in disapproval and others could be heard whispering the shame and sadness of such an occurrence. The abandonment of a child is not a welcome nor common sight in Lancia, Sira thought. We are better than that.

A lone raven shrieked out in the sky, then prepared for landing on one of the tall pedestals guarding the entry way to the Cathedral. The dark stone stared blankly out into the dusking air, stoically silent. The light gates surrounding the gardens of the Cathedral were made of the darkest cast iron steel, solidly planted in the ground, merely for aesthetic purposes. The gate hinges were in near perfect condition; a minor hiss emerged when the steel was carried softly by the cool wind. A few bright yellow leaves blew by, picturesqued. In front of the gates stood many a building, from humble abode of the faithful to simple shops and stores of Lancia’s bustling farm trade--bread, wheat, flour, milk, eggs and other various farm goods were scattered throughout the pleasant wooden signs posted down the long and wide streets. The smell of day-old fish occasionally carried along the air, brought about from the crashing shores of the nation’s ends. Alas, the day was coming to a close, and since the blinding light had emerged from the Cathedral, many knew the final offering had been bestowed, and plump, smiling shopkeepers closed up, turning down their signs and bringing their goods to store, while others finished their final perusals of the day, and many offered tithe to the Cathedral out of simple piety and communion. Such was the prosperity of a nation blessed by the Sungod himself.