One Word Prompts 2021

Crystal - The Priestess

She knelt before the shrine, her hands folded in fervent prayer. Before her, on the pedestal in the center of the shrine, a polished gold fox curled around a crystal of midnight blue. Behind her, another blood-curdling scream broke the constant cacophony of chaos and destruction that filled the hazy night.

She trembled on her knees, trying to block out the growing smell of smoke and iron. She knew this was foolish. Naive, even. She was no high priestess. No saintess. No goddess incarnate. No amount of prayer, no matter how heartfelt, would change this fate.

It would be wiser to slip out the back. The shrine was on the edge of the property, surrounded by deep woods. Her guards would never notice if she snuck out the back window while the main estate was under siege. How far would she get before it was noticed she was gone? Would her guards chase after her or would they throw their lives into the desperate defense of her father? Or would they never notice, guarding an empty room to their death?

She clenched her hands tighter together, so tight it stung. Please, she begged, in spite of the futility. Save me please. Save us all. The candlelight flickered off the spherical sides of the dark crystal, indifferent to her calls.

She should just run. Just run.

She didn't ask for this. She would have been happy as any nobleman's daughter. Happy even as a commoner.

Anything but a failed priestess.

"You are certain?" her father had said all that time ago. She remembered it like it was yesterday. She sat beside her father, no more than six or seven. Across from them, the woman sat. She wore robes of deep purple, and a veil that obscured all her face but her mouth. It was a gaping mouth to her memory. It never quite closed. Always, the blackness within seeped out around the woman.

"Your daughter has a strong connection to the world beyond," the woman had said again. "Strong enough to be the high priestess one day. However—" the woman held a finger up in warning, "— she is also surrounded by a fate of destruction. Chaos and death will follow her if left unchecked."

"That can't be," her father had protested.

"Worry not," the woman said, her lips twisting up in a grin. "The protection of a strong god will easily neutralize such a fate. Simply make her a priestess of the Fox and all will be well."

That was what she had said. That was what they had done.

And yet, here she was.

Please, she begged the fox statue before her. How much of her life had she dedicated to the Fox? How much had she given? She'd tried. Oh, she'd tried. She'd meditated in its sacred places for days on end. She'd purified herself in the presence of high priest and priestesses again and again. She'd made the offerings. She'd said her prayers.

She had never once heard its voice. Never once felt the presence of the Celestial Fox in the dawn's rising sun or its touch in dusk's last breeze.

So they'd sent her home. Sent her home to watch her family's little shrine.

"It's an important job," they had told her as if they weren't just shuffling her out of sight.

"A demon is sealed there with the Fox's power," they'd said as if they would really send a failed priestess to watch a sealed demon. As if it was anything more than a janitorial job.

Yet, they called her a priestess. As if the title alone would do something about this fate she carried. As if calling her that was enough to make it so.

This was the consequences, wasn't it? Her fate of destruction brought this attack on her family. Her inability to call on the Fox was what let this happen.

Please. Tears beaded at her eyes, though whether it was the sting of failure or the rising smoke that caused it, she couldn't say. Please.

She should just run. Before the fire or the armed attackers got her. Try her luck with the dark of the forest and the beasts within.

She pushed herself from her knees. Would her father be disappointed in her giving up like this? Was he even still alive? She could see the estate aflame out the shrine's front windows. It glowed ghastly red in the smoke-filled night.

An explosion rocked the shrine. She stumbled backward with a scream, her hand flying out to catch herself.

"Young miss!" one of the guards called from beyond the shrine's door. "Are you alright?"

She inhaled sharply, trying to steady her frantically beating heart. Her hand was planted on the blue crystal of the Fox statue. In her still shaking voice, she yelled, "Yes. I'm fine. Please continue keeping watch out there."

Inhale, exhale. Just breathe. Inhale, exhale.

She shook her head, still leaning on the dark crystal. Please, just save me.

"Is that all you want?" a voice asked. It whispered at the edges of her hearing, deep and raspy. But she was alone within the shrine.

"Is this all my priestess asks of me?" the voice asked. A smoke oozed from the statue, the same midnight blue color as the crystal orb. It swirled around her arm, snaking up and around her shoulders.

"What?" She took a step back, the blue smoke clinging to her.

"Blood flows freely over this land and I have received it all as my offering," the voice said. "Tell me what you wish and you shall oversee my return to this plane."

"Who is this?" she asked, though she knew.

"The true owner of this place. The true steward of these lands," the voice declared, louder with each statement. "Sealed by that pretentious Fox. Called demon and disaster. I am Night. I am the Raven."

It couldn't be, her teachings told her. The Raven was the bringer of chaos and disaster, no minor demon. It was the Fox's sworn enemy. Killed by the Fox at the dawn of this world. An evil entity banished to the Dead Lands. Its grasp should feel cold like death. Its touch should sap at her will.

And yet, she could feel the strength it carried seeping into her. Cold and dark, certainly. Yet, so right. Cold, but refreshing, like a cool wind on a hot day. Dark, but comforting, like the embrace of night around one asleep.

"And you," the Raven whispered in her ear, "are my priestess." 

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Continued in Raven - The Raven