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A/N: This takes place in the same world and rough geographic area as "The Opal Mask" - my planned NaNoWriMo for this year - but is about a millenium earlier. I hope you enjoy it. Comments welcome as always.
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Title: Shattering
Genre: Fantasy
Word Count: 707 words
The air pressed oppressively against Ranet's skin and there was a hollow, metallic feeling in his stomach as he made the month's full moon devotions on the hill above his people's village. The dark sensation had been growing for months and he knew from talking to the village head and hearth keeper that the other magic users sensed it too.
Tonight, however, it was worse than ever. He found himself stammering as he mouthed the ritual phrases and poured out honey wine onto the white rock for his patron deity.
He was just struggling through the last prayer when the gnawing hollowness contracted painfully into a cold lead ball of panic he could not explain. It was replaced a moment later by an equally inexplicable determination.
He shook his head to clear it and looked around, trying to find the source of these emotions since they were clearly not his own. A whispered spell revealed there was no other human in range to affect him, so he turned his eyes unwillingly to the sky. It had to be his patron, but what could discomfort a goddess so?
So he was looking straight at the moon when it shattered.
***
Ranet groaned and tried the push away the hand that was shaking him gently. His head was on fire and he could smell the sharp scent of vomit he was sure was his own.
"Ranet, I'm sorry. I know it hurts, but you have to wake up." Whoever was shaking him it sounded like she was in as much pain as he was. Ranet couldn't place her voice, but it was familiar somehow. "Ranet, wake up, please!"
He opened his eyes hesitantly, then gasped as the sight of the burning sky reminded him of what he'd seen. He tried to sit up but his stomach rebelled at the sudden movement and he retched, depositing what little was left in his stomach into the tattered silver skirts of the one who'd woken him.
Wait? Silver?
Ranet's gasped in a breath as his retching stopped and he regained enough control to look up into the pained eyes of his goddess Enled. He scrambled to his knees, breathing deeply to suppress the nausea, but as he went to prostrate himself she stopped him with a gentle hand a shake of her head. There was blood matted in her silver hair and leaking from cuts in her shimmering skin.
"It wasn't your fault, my priest, and we don't have time for ceremony. I only wish having one of my priests vomiting on me was the worst thing that had happened to me today. You have to get your people to high ground. The sea is coming. Otraya is doing his best to slow it so you have time, but he can't stop it."
The moon had shattered? The sea god couldn't control the sea? He had dozens of questions but what came out of his mouth encompassed them all. "What?"
"The gods can affect the wind but they cannot stop it," Enled said. It was a common saying, a platitude when unfair things happened, but he got the point. He climbed cautiously to his feet, wishing the headache would abate so he could think straight.
"How long?" he asked.
"I don't know," she said. "We're running right at the edge of our power just to keep this world liveable after this. But it should be enough if you-" She collapsed in a heap at his feet.
Ranet stared at the unconscious goddess. Should he leave her there? Would the other gods come for her if he did, if they were dealing with whatever had happened? Would she recover on her own if they didn't? He hesitated for a long moment, then scooped her into his arms gasping at her unexpected lightness. He doubted the hearth keeper would be able to remedy the ills of an injured goddess but he wouldn't leave a human in that state so he certainly couldn't abandon his goddess. And her presence – even unconscious – was more likely to make people listen to him when he told them to flee.
He shifted her weight in his arms and raced down towards the village to raise the alarm.
---
Title: Shattering
Genre: Fantasy
Word Count: 707 words
The air pressed oppressively against Ranet's skin and there was a hollow, metallic feeling in his stomach as he made the month's full moon devotions on the hill above his people's village. The dark sensation had been growing for months and he knew from talking to the village head and hearth keeper that the other magic users sensed it too.
Tonight, however, it was worse than ever. He found himself stammering as he mouthed the ritual phrases and poured out honey wine onto the white rock for his patron deity.
He was just struggling through the last prayer when the gnawing hollowness contracted painfully into a cold lead ball of panic he could not explain. It was replaced a moment later by an equally inexplicable determination.
He shook his head to clear it and looked around, trying to find the source of these emotions since they were clearly not his own. A whispered spell revealed there was no other human in range to affect him, so he turned his eyes unwillingly to the sky. It had to be his patron, but what could discomfort a goddess so?
So he was looking straight at the moon when it shattered.
***
Ranet groaned and tried the push away the hand that was shaking him gently. His head was on fire and he could smell the sharp scent of vomit he was sure was his own.
"Ranet, I'm sorry. I know it hurts, but you have to wake up." Whoever was shaking him it sounded like she was in as much pain as he was. Ranet couldn't place her voice, but it was familiar somehow. "Ranet, wake up, please!"
He opened his eyes hesitantly, then gasped as the sight of the burning sky reminded him of what he'd seen. He tried to sit up but his stomach rebelled at the sudden movement and he retched, depositing what little was left in his stomach into the tattered silver skirts of the one who'd woken him.
Wait? Silver?
Ranet's gasped in a breath as his retching stopped and he regained enough control to look up into the pained eyes of his goddess Enled. He scrambled to his knees, breathing deeply to suppress the nausea, but as he went to prostrate himself she stopped him with a gentle hand a shake of her head. There was blood matted in her silver hair and leaking from cuts in her shimmering skin.
"It wasn't your fault, my priest, and we don't have time for ceremony. I only wish having one of my priests vomiting on me was the worst thing that had happened to me today. You have to get your people to high ground. The sea is coming. Otraya is doing his best to slow it so you have time, but he can't stop it."
The moon had shattered? The sea god couldn't control the sea? He had dozens of questions but what came out of his mouth encompassed them all. "What?"
"The gods can affect the wind but they cannot stop it," Enled said. It was a common saying, a platitude when unfair things happened, but he got the point. He climbed cautiously to his feet, wishing the headache would abate so he could think straight.
"How long?" he asked.
"I don't know," she said. "We're running right at the edge of our power just to keep this world liveable after this. But it should be enough if you-" She collapsed in a heap at his feet.
Ranet stared at the unconscious goddess. Should he leave her there? Would the other gods come for her if he did, if they were dealing with whatever had happened? Would she recover on her own if they didn't? He hesitated for a long moment, then scooped her into his arms gasping at her unexpected lightness. He doubted the hearth keeper would be able to remedy the ills of an injured goddess but he wouldn't leave a human in that state so he certainly couldn't abandon his goddess. And her presence – even unconscious – was more likely to make people listen to him when he told them to flee.
He shifted her weight in his arms and raced down towards the village to raise the alarm.
