The Prophecy of Water | ✔️ 🎖 [2018 Wattys Shortlister]

CHAPTER 5-Walk to the Wells

They all think they know me; that I'm happy in my position.

But I want to be something more. I want to be a saviour.

LoG, 26

Kamil came to stand by Drian's side.

Drian was trying to hide his tremors. Fortunately, it worked pretty well, considering he was unusually tall and bony for his nineteen Big Ones. He felt his cassock to be too broad for his gaunt frame and thought how much he wished to disappear.

To become anyone, anything, except Drian, The Man of Cloth, Junior Abbot of The House of Credo of Bronze Cliff. Father says I should be happy with what I have now. Maybe he is right. Being The Man of Cloth is an honourable profession. Perhaps painting is just a dream that will never come true. Drian put his hand on the forehead to get a better view of The Senior Abbot. Damned Light was still hampering his mind.

Kamil pulled a black handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his face.

"Very well, Drian," he said. "Your participation in The Desiccation Ceremony was impeccable. I expected nothing less from you. Everyone who dares to challenge the existence of The Mind deserves all the water to be extracted from his or her body. I'll be sure to talk to your father, Nalon. You are to be his worthy replacement, there is no doubt about that, oh no. The following Big One, when you are twenty Big Ones old, I will send a letter to The House of Credo in Begi. Maybe it's time for you to reach the next level of study when The Men of Cloth are in question."

Drian let out a sigh of relief. He knew this day was a test for him. It seems I've left a good impression. I don't particularly care about that, but I'm sure my father will be happy. He always wanted me to become The Man of Cloth. I impressed Kamil, and that is by no means a small thing.

"Thank you for your trust, Senior Abbot," Drian recited in response.

Kamil studied him during a few moments. Then, as if someone lifted a veil of suspicion from his face, it brightened and he said, "You're welcome, Drian. You deserve it."

His smile sent shivers down Drian's spine. He felt like an accomplice in the murder. The swarm of guilty conscience mosquitoes stung him all over. 

No one should be allowed to kill anyone. Isn't that what The Mind commands? Yet here we are, slaughtering numerous people. Celebrating it, even.

He heard Kamil's voice as if it were coming from a great distance. "Well, let's go towards The House of Credo, shall we?" The Senior Abbot pointed the finger at the black glass building joined with the rock, just like the destiny of all humans in the settlement was, too.

"Come, let's freshen up inside. There are fresh fruit and cheese from The Market Square, and I got us four bowls of water. Why not come in for a bite? The Third Meal is just around the corner," Kamil winked at him as if revealing a big secret that only the two of them understood.