The Prophet

During the equinox, it was said that the heavens and the earth met like two lovers and that the mountains sang in celebration. Igar heard nothing. Instead, she heard the bleating of sheep and goats being led to the slaughter. By her side was a cage which contained a bluebird that she raised from a hatchling. It had no name. Igar didn't want to name something that would have to die later. The bird sang happily in its cage, oblivious to its fate.

A cool breeze hit Igar's cheeks, bringing along with it the promise of the first snow of the season. She shivered and pulled her threadbare cloak closer to herself. She always hated winter, with it's short days and endless nights. The nights seemed even longer, given how far north the little town of Cherith was. In fact, it was the last town one would see before ascending into the mountains. Very few visited, unless they were making a journey to the temple to make sacrifices to the gods.

The town was bustling with pilgrims. It was something the Igar wasn't used to. Nearly all of the inns were full and the air was filled with the shouts of people haggling for meat and bread or other provisions for their journey. There was a hard shove from behind and Igar nearly tumbled over. Her bluebird rustled it feathers in alarm. Igar cursed under her breath. The sooner these stupid city people left, the better.

Igar adjusted her pack on her shoulder and continued through the streets until she finally reached the outskirts of the town. The crowd had thinned out by then and Igar took a deep breath. The mountains loomed ahead, imposing against the morning sunlight. The temple was at the summit, about a four day’s journey. Igar had never made the pilgrimage before. It was custom for people to start the pilgrimage when they were sixteen, but Igar never had enough money to buy an animal suitable for sacrifice to the gods. She saved up enough, finally, but she was two years late.

She held up her birdcage and inspected her bird again. Luckily, she wasn’t hurt and was hopping around, singing a joyful song.

“I bet the gods will love you,” she spoke softly. “Everyone will be jealous when they see how lovely you are.”

The bird continued to sing as if agreeing with her. Igar felt a pang of sadness. Even though she hadn’t named the bird, she had been with it for all of its short life. It almost felt like she was sending off her own child to die, as dramatic as it sounded. Still, she had to do this. Great misfortune came upon those who didn’t give to the gods. If she didn’t perform a sacrifice, perhaps the winter would never end, or she wouldn’t receive money for her work. Igar wished that the gods didn’t require blood to be pleased with her.

Igar hummed an old lullaby that she didn’t really remember the words to, and began the ascent. Behind her, the little town of Cherith sat, people milling about like ants. The fields shone a dark gold in the early morning sun. Ahead of her, the path was still quite easy to climb. She had heard that the journey became more difficult when one reached the first peak. Igar was glad that she saved up her money for travelling boots, for as she climbed the first trail, she felt herself already needing to take a rest about a half hour into the trail. A feeling of dread came over her as she thought about how much harder the second leg of the journey would be. Igar found a wide tree to sit under to catch her breath and placed the cage on the ground between some of its roots. She leaned her head against the trunk and stared up at the canopy of leaves. Some pink sky peaked through and absently thought about how lovely it looked.

After a few moments, Igar rose to her feet.

“Alright, little bird, we’ve rested enough. At this rate, we’ll never reach the summit.”

More people were entering the forest now, and if Igar didn’t go soon, her peace and quiet would be ruined. Their boisterous voices could already be heard echoing throughout the place. She took a swig from her canteen and continued up the trail with a renewed vigor. Finally, when the sun had completeley risen into the sky, Igar reached the top of the first hill. At this point, the trees thinned out beside the path, and one could see all of the lands to the south and to the east. Below her, the frontier town of Cherith looked lay, people milling around like ants. The fields shone like gold and copper in the sunlight, almost like the jewelry that nobles wore. Except, it seemed more grand than theirs could ever be.

Igar readjusted her pack on her back. Ahead of her, the path began to snake up, becoming an ever steeper incline. It would be hard on her, and even if she could make it up to the peak, the air would also become harder to breathe.

“If only I were a mountain elf, or a bird.”

“But you’re too ugly to be the first!” a voice called behind her. “And you have such a shrill voice that you could never sound like a bird!”

Eduin, a boy from her village ascended up the trail along with his obnoxious group of friends. They all had either lambs or kids, and every year they liked to flaunt how wealthy they were. Bari glanced at her cage, which she was trying her hardest to hide behind her.

“I thought you were coming up here to put yourself to some use.”

Igar’s face flushed at the implication, but said nothing.

“But I see you’re trying to please the gods with your meager sacrifice.”

“Hey!”

He grabbed her cage before she could react and she nearly tripped over her feet trying to retrieve it.

“What should we do with it? Should we wring its head off its shoulders?”

Eduin moved to open the cage. His green eyes had a cruel glint, and Igar didn’t doubt that he would follow through with his promise.

“No!” Igar cried. “I raised her from a chick! Don’t kill her. Please don’t kill her!”

Eduin rolled his eyes and dropped the cage at her feet.

“You’re no fun. It was only a joke, right boys?”

The others behind him snickered and agreed. They left a few moments later, leaving Igar to check on the bird. The bird pruned herself, as if she hadn’t been in mortal danger mere seconds before. Igar hated to admit it to herself but the little bird was more of a friend to her than any human ever was. And her friend had almost been murdered in cold blood, for no reason other than some noble boy’s amusement.

“I hope the gods strike them dead,” she said under her breath, afraid that her voice would be carried on the wind and that they would hurt her.

She picked up her cage and continued up the path.

The trail became steeper and steeper the higher up she went, and it continued like that even after midday. Like she had been told, the air became thinner and her lungs began to hurt, her head becoming heavy. Fortunately, the trees also grew closer together and she was shielded from the sun’s rays. When the sun began to set, she discovered a good-sized stream that trickled down the rocks to the valley below. If she weren’t so woozy, Igar would have been excited to explore. Instead, she drank as much as her stomach could handle and then filled her cantine to the brim with the sweet tasting water. Truly, the gods inhabited this mountain if the water was so good!

Before night fell, Igar entered a small valley that was littered with campfires. Groups of people were gathered around them, some cooking food, others getting ready to rest for the night. Some were tying their animals to trees. Igar glanced around, hoping to avoid the gang of boys that had bothered her earlier. She let out a breath when they were nowhere to be found.

“Come sit by the fire! It’ll be cold tonight!” a man’s voice called. Igar startled and wondered if he was talking to her. Said man was a few paces away. He waved her over and when she approached gave up his seat.

Igar sat awkwardly amidst the lively conversation of the other travellers. She wasn’t quite sure what to say so she remained silent. The man who called her over sat on the ground next to the birdcage and regarded the bird curiously.

“What a nice bird. Who is it to?”

“Thank you,” Igar said. “I raised her myself, just for this. But, I don’t know which god I’m going to sacrifice her to.”

If she had more money, she would sacrifice to all of the gods. Maybe then, she could gain enough favor with them that they would bless her with enough money to leave Cherith forever, away from stupid Eduin.

“I suppose I don't know who I'll make my sacrifice to, either,” the man said, staring into the fire. As Igar took out some bread to eat, she studied his face. It was tanned, something unusual in the north where everyone had pale skin even in the summer. He had gentle brown eyes and a hooked nose. His face was framed by dark curly hair and an equally dark short beard.

“You're not from around here are you?” Igar said, mouth full of bread.

He chuckled as she brushed some crumbs from her dress.

“Indeed, you're right, little sister!”

“Little sister?”

“Yes, you're younger than me, and unless my eyes are deceiving me, I'd say that you're a woman.”

“I guess,” Igar said, not quite sure what to make of this foreigner. “Where are you from?”

“I'm from a land far south from here.”

But, so was everywhere. Igar decided not to press him though. Perhaps he was running from something. What if he was a criminal? She picked at a loose thread on her skirt. Would he rob everyone in their sleep?

“I see.”

“And you, where are you from?”

“I'm just from that town at the bottom of the mountain.”

“A lovely little place,” he said.

“It's alright. I would like to leave it someday. I've been there my whole life.”

She paused. The next part she had never told anyone before.

“I want to open my own seamstress shop in the capital,” she said, her voice lowered.

“That's rather far from here,” the man replied. “But, what about your family? Friends?”

“I… have no family and I have no friends.”

“Isn't it lonely?”

Igar pondered it for a moment.

“Not really.”

He didn't look like he believed her, but didn't press further. Igar continued to eat get bread and sat in a comfortable silence. A cold wind rustled her curls and she was glad that she was sat around a fire.

“What's your name?” she asked rather awkwardly. She wasn't used to making small talk.

“Levi, and what might I call you, little sister?”

“Igar.”

“Ah, doesn't that mean, ‘chosen by the gods’?”

Igar nodded. Though, it felt like the gods abandoned her early on. She didn't tell Levi that though. It felt almost like blasphemy, and if she said it aloud she was afraid that she would be stuck dead. Levi began to lay out his blankets and Igar did the same. The bird was asleep also and Igar wondered how she could be so carefree around so many strangers. After she had arranged her furs on the ground, she wrapped herself in her blanket and stared up at the sky.

The sun finally went down and in its place were the great northern lights that danced across the sky. She always saw them, but up here, where the air was thinner, they seemed so much clearer and brighter. Levi let out a contented sigh.

“It is said that there is a great elder god that created all we see. The mountains and the wind sing his praises though we can't hear them.”

“I haven't heard of any god like that.”

“I'm not surprised. You see, we have forgotten his name.”

She fell asleep that night wondering how they could forget such a god.

The next morning, she woke up at the crack of dawn. Levi was already gone. Igar gathered her things after eating a breakfast of bread and cheese and continued up the mountain road. Today, the air didn't seem so hard to breathe even though she was traveling higher and higher into the mountain. Igar was glad.

A few hours into her hike, the road leveled slightly. It cut through a smaller face, forming a canyon. Igar decided that this would be a suitable place to rest, and sat the cage on a small boulder. Igar sat on the ground.

A few travelers passed through and they nodded to each other cordially. Other than that the canyon was empty, save for Igar and the bird. Her eyes began to droop and her eyes had just closed when suddenly, a voice, a quiet one, called her name.

“Hello?”

The canyon was still empty. The bird sang in her cage.

“You didn't call my name, did you?”

Of course, the bird didn't answer, like Igar expected her to.

“Igar.”

The voice was coming from up ahead. Igar grabbed her pack and the bird, and went in the direction she thought it was coming from. She continued through the canyon, the voice growing louder. Soon, she approached a small cave. A pale blue light emanated from the entrance. Curious, Igar squeezed herself and her bird through. Moss grew on the cave floor in a thick carpet. Igar almost wanted to take off her shoes, feel it between her toes. The walls shone with blue gemstones and Igar wondered for a moment what they were. The light itself came from a small pile of rocks, which she guessed was supposed to be a shrine. Hesitantly, she approached it and pressed a hand against the pile. It was warm to the touch and it radiated with an ancient magic that Igar didn't know existed.

The magic engulfed her fingers, like it was alive. Igar screamed as it coursed through her arm, through the rest of her body. Eventually, it seemed to pierce into her heart. Igar was filled with terror, for she knew that she was in the presence of a god. Her legs gave out and she fell in a heap front of the shrine.