Lord Urane was generous and detailed in his sharing of prophecies, whether or not they were directly related to the requests of the patron. He said everything he could to each of his patrons, respecting the value of their time and expenses in going to see him, and even followed up with a few specific ones afterward, when another vision was related to them. It was no exaggeration to say that glowing testimonies about their ruling prophet flew off the shelves, and worshippers lost more and more of their traditional god-fearing respect and manners. Many succumbed to desperation and pleas, and fervent prayers abound when they had been neglected before his time. At their visionary appointments, his two predecessors needed only their chief with them. It was risky and dangerous to manipulate electricity with multiple people around. While prophets thrived on electricity and lightning, despite its known effects of changing some’s brain chemistry, the ungifted were vulnerable and could die, or get injured, if nearby and hit. Yet, due to increase in popularity with the natives, security tightened up at the fort and Urane was surrounded on three sides even during his appointments.
Buying a vision from the ruling prophet was not cheap compared to civilian prophets, but the accuracy and specificity of their prophecies, as well as the fame of the ruler, made them the most popular. Traditional rules held that worshippers brought in a well-used cup from their homes, filled it with silver dust—imported from the island of Ilon, said to be the purest land—from one of the ruling prophet’s many fort temples, and knelt in prayer over it at the entrance of the appointment chamber, before the eyes of the patron seeking his prophecy. Prophets received their prayers and worshipping directly. They may sprinkle the sand themselves, or drink herbal tea, with imported crystal ice inside, brought to them as an offering.
Only then was the patron allowed inside, and must bow his head to the prophet as the silver dust was sprinkled on the floor between them. It symbolized an earthly offering to the moon, therefore meshing their worlds and granting access to the prophet who would seek and communicate with the moon. As ordinary mortals were unable to see visions or speak with those on the moon, they could only worship the moon for the prophet’s gift of vision, and use it to work towards their better self or find security.
The traditions, rituals, and small visionary ceremonies may be man made, but multiple testimonies from prophets all over proved the existence of a transcendent being sent as flashing images in all visions—always as brief as one or two seconds. Prophets assumed them to be transcendent automatically for their brevity and unique look, and related to the moon for the moon-shaped accessory on their person. Some described them as a womanly figure, with a human female body shape, wearing a short robe, gown, or dress. She had either pure yellow or silver skin, incredibly long hair, and wore different clothes in various colors, as if each prophet saw her on different days. Over time, some began to claim seeing a feminine man, with long silver hair and silver skin, a flat chest, and a tall, slender body. Propheters, the island’s citizens, named the woman Venness, the Prophetian word for ‘moon goddess’, and the man Vennen, the Prophetian word for ‘moon god’.
Myths, of course, spread by starry-eyed romantics had said both a woman and man existed, and that they were immortal lovers living on one of the moons. For those that believed in the couple version, the man’s name was Vennedin, a play on the words for ‘moon lover’. While the woman symbolized hope and optimism, the man represented glory and change, for he was needed in case the woman’s shared prophecy was a dark and gloomy one. He would be there to help change such a shadowy, foreboding future. Or so the interpreting staff of ruling prophets, who had to believe in the couple version due to sightings of both over the centuries, would have their patrons believe.
Back on the topic of Urane. Only two years into his marriage, Urane experienced sudden visions that were brief, and which caused headaches and heartaches. When he received brief and headache-inducing visions, without the help of electricity or lightning, it meant they involved him. Images and scenes of a strange woman walking flashed across his mind, flitting through without apparent meaning. The feeling and confusion of the experience left him uneasy, but he did not confide in anyone. The second vision showed him sitting on a chair of a familiar bedside, being his own bed, head bowed in something of a lonely pose. That was all; his vision did not blur, his eyes unmoving from the scene of himself sitting there, from where he looked at a high angle. It remained for moments longer before fading, and he returned to concerned gazes of the entire chief staff and servants around him.
“A vision?” Droi, his private advisory chief of many years, inquired, brows furrowed. He had recognized the dazed look on Urane’s face. “You didn’t seem to be electrified.”
Urane lowered his head. “Yes. It is about me, but I don’t understand it.”
He was distraught and baffled. He set down his pen and stared at Droi, sensing the question that was coming.
“What happened?”
“It’s me sitting in a chair, by my own bed. My head was cowed in my hands. I saw nothing else. Nothing!” He sighed. “Why would I not be in my bed instead? Why sit there facing it, unless someone else is in it?”
Droi mumbled, “What if there is? Your wife, or somebody else?” He asked, “How was the mood like? How did you look?”
“Same as usual, casual lounge attire. I seemed…” He waved a hand, searching for a word. “Gloomy. But it was still just the top of my purple head.”
“That doesn’t sound like you.” Droi smiled, touching his shoulder. “You’re not gloomy at all. Let’s not concern ourselves over what we don’t understand. Not until you learn more.”
Urane did not press him for more advice, but he was not reassured. With good reason, because there was another ominous vision the next day. His wife was struggling to sit up in bed, looking thin, frail, and wan, while a woman in a nurse’s uniform rushed to her aid. Her future sickness had to be about her throat disease, which had plagued her since she was young, being both recurrent and incurable. A result of genetics in her family. And she looked worse than ever before: ashen features, drooping eyelids, lost weight, trembling hands, wispy hair.
For weeks, Urane was plagued by undesirable images of his wife—his work activity slipped, his mind was stressed and burdened, his visions blurry or not appearing at all, except for those about himself, his wife, and a strange woman. Him anxious and depressed, throwing pillows and paper and chairs every which way. His wife trying to lift her shaky inkbrush, but failing to sketch anything solid; she had never failed to ink during their married life. Her trying to sip broth through a straw, and wincing in pain as she swallowed.
Gradually, less and less customers requested an appointment, some canceling altogether or not showing up, and a decline in Propheters worshipping traditions and temple visits became noticeable. It was the worst time for so many to stop praying, to stop believing in him or their god, because he needed them now more than ever. That was Droi’s thought. Urane only wallowed away, ruminating over his nightmares. At first, he tried to lavish attention and love on his doomed wife, wanting to make more memories and change their fate while he still could, but he was too anxious and pushy, striving only to irritate her. She was not yet sick. Later he built a wall around himself, to better contain his heart and prepare himself for a life without her, almost not even acknowledging her presence or existence in the fort.
It was not easy to think of life without her when he used to believe they had many years to be together. In truth, he had grown dependent on his feelings of passion to encourage his magic of lightning prophecy, which fueled his self confidence and ego all around. Now that it was going the opposite direction, he grew despondent in both power and passion, which only turned into a perpetual cycle. He was not accustomed to feeling low on magic power, and civilians were not used to their best prophet being weak.
However, when Urane took on the mantle of prophet, he had sworn an oath. His chief, and all of the staff who represented him, would never allow him to forget it.
Footnotes:
[1] The equivalent of a hawk bird on Earth. In the Kingdom of Crystal, they have aqua blue feathers with white streaks and tail ends, and long, skinny feathers. Some of their colors are changed in other islands/countries due to mixed genes. Their eye vision is one of the sharpest and farthest in the bird class.
[2] Money in the form of dollar bills. 100 rolles is about $10.00 in USD currency.
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