Chapter 2

“Quick, the master is having another vision! Send for the acolytes!” Kailu shouted as the Lord Prophet began to shudder violently yet again.

Wiping a handful of sweat from his forehead, Kailu could sense that something was wrong. By now the visions should’ve stopped, or at worst they should’ve eased, yet the Lord prophet continued to writhe and quiver in pain on the pedestal, his eyes clamped tight like the steel doors of the royal vault. It was an ominous sign, and you could almost see the feeling of doom as it loomed over everyone in the crypt’s mind. Some of the apprentice prophets were afraid even to look at the Lord prophet. Perhaps they feared that by merely witnessing the Lord prophets pain, they would incur an angry god’s wrath. It was only natural. As no one knew what was going on after all, and all one could do in their position was to stew in anxiety and chatter tales crafted by fear and ignorance.

Kailu, the vice-master of the sect, tried hard to ignore the senseless ramblings and simply focus on his job. But occasionally, an apprentice would step just a little too close and he’d have no choice but to listen in. An apprentice was a little too close right now, and the nervous expression on his face told Kailu everything he’d needed to know before he even began to speak.

“W-what if it’s another calamity?” whispered the apprentice to a fellow apprentice beside him, “t-then Wyndia is doomed! We don’t have a sacrificier, n-nor do we have the s-sw-“

“Silence!” His friend replied hissing, “If the master were to hear you, we’ll both be whipped!”

Kailu bit his lip.

A droplet of cold sweat dripped down his back, despite the heat and humidity of the crypt around him.

It was true. The Lord’s visions this month had been the worst that they’d ever seen. And it was also true that the last time any lord prophet had suffered this much at the hands of the pedestal was at the advent of the previous calamity.

So was it really happening? A second calamity? In less than twenty years?

“Vice Master Kailu, the Acolytes are here!” the hurried voice of an apprentice suddenly cut through his thoughts.

“U-uh good, have them r-raise the Lord prophet and let him rest in an ice bath. And tell the acolytes to apply soothing salves, and also prepare a mint oil, we…may have to wake him if the visions further worsen.” Kailu responded shakily, his voice betraying a little of the haunting thoughts running through his head.

Just as announced, the acolytes soon entered the crypt in a flurry, their immaculate white robes bringing in a refreshing gust of wind that the room had desperately needed. Kailu watched as the crowd of prophets before them split open, their dark mantles rippling like the tides of a stygian ocean as they revealed a narrow path toward the pedestal, in response the Acolytes bowed elegantly, then swiftly shuffled through the crowds to surround the Lord Prophet, leaving behind a faint perfume wherever they passed.

They quickly got to work, and in no time the Lord Prophet was resting in a cooling bath, with an army of Acolyte nurses tending to his every need.

It seemed to help. The lord was resting quieter, at least for now.

Kailu breathed a sigh of relief, finally letting himself relax a little, and almost instantly he could feel his body tremble from the exhaustion that he had ignored for the past few hours. In a moment of weakness, he decided to sit down gently on the ground below him.

In caring to and observing the Lord, every servant and every prophet in the sect had worked and prayed to their wits end. The usually cool crypt was disgustingly warm and humid from the combined efforts of nearly a hundred men and women, every single one of them, tired beyond reason. Kailu himself had been managing this chaotic drill. His brain, completely overloaded as it was, had been blanking periodically now for the past hour, and this was not to mention the hours of standing, gesturing and praying. It was safe to say that all of it has left him completely drained.

“You should take a break vice-master. We can handle the situation for a little while.” A quiet female voice sounded from beside him just as he prepared to stand up once more.

It was an acolyte nurse, holding what looked to be a cool drink in her hands.

“N-no. I must stay.” Kailu raised his hand in a gesture of thanks, surprised that an acolyte had left her group, “The lord would be infuriated if I was not here when he awoke. Not to mention… this is my duty.”

The female acolyte shook her head and held out the drink for Kailu to take.

“I believe the Lord would be even more upset if you were to perform your duty at anything but your absolute best. No?” She reasoned, “At least take a moment for yourself. You have done well Kailu.”

Almost against his own will, Kailu’s shoulders sagged. Something about the nurse’s voice was exceptionally calming. And yes, he truly did need a moment of reprieve… yes… he couldn’t afford to make a mistake simply because he was tired.

“Well, thank you.” He thanked the nurse and took the drink in his hand.

“But do I really look that tired?”

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The acolyte gave a small smile and nodded.

“Yes, vice-master. You look horrendously tired.”

Kailu chuckled, then watched as the acolyte quickly disappeared into the crowd of robes surrounding the Lord’s pedestal, as though she had never left. He took a sip of the herbal tea she had offered and analysed the scene before him. The atmosphere was chaotic still, but much more peaceful than just a minute ago when the Lord had been quivering in pain. Only now he could see a glimpse of the light at the end of the tunnel. He sighed and turned slowly to face the exit of the crypt behind him.

It was probably fine to take a little break, now that everything had calmed down.

Outside, the night air seemed exceptionally crisp and refreshing. Perhaps it was only because he’d been drowning in the musk of a hundred sweaty servants only moments ago, but Kailu found himself relishing every deep breath as he leant against the railings of the pavilion surrounding the mountain crypt.

It was a peaceful night. Looking down at the city, he could still see faint wisps of the populace here and there, weaving from lantern light to lantern light, returning to their families after a long day at work.

Kailu imagined himself resting at home now and smiled.

He had no family to speak of, but tonight was the type of night he would’ve loved to spend alone at home, with a cup of warm honey tea by his side and a book in his hands. He looked down at the chilled drink in his hands and sighed.

“I wonder if these peaceful nights will hold…” He murmured to himself.

“I sure hope they do.” Suddenly, a familiar voice sounded from behind him.

Kailu turned in surprise, then chuckled as he realised who had approached. It was Simo. A childhood friend, also better known, as the Royal Spymaster. It was no wonder that he’d not heard him approaching.

“Is there any reason to suspect otherwise?” Simo asked, a sly expression upon his face, “The Gods acting any stranger than normal today?”

Kailu shrugged casually.

“I’ve studied the texts for my entire life,” He replied offhandedly, “but you know the Gods just as well as I do.”

“Their moods and their tempers, I could never truly understand them.”

Simo frowned for a moment, and glanced at the crypt behind them, then shrugged back.

“Well…” He replied with a drawl, “moody or not.”

“I have news that what’s happening in there-“, he turned and pointed at the crypt, “feels less like a little temper tantrum from the all-powerfuls in the sky…”

“And more like…. that prophecy of calamity that occurs once every hundred years.” He finished.

Kailu rolled his eyes and let his shoulder sag.

“Is that what they’re saying is happening?” He asked tiredly, “Your eyes and ears in the sect.”

Simo shrugged, maintaining eye contact.

“It’s certainly at least what they think is happening.”

“…and?” Kailu replied with narrowed eyes.

“I want to know your opinion.”

Kailu put down his drink on the floor beside him and sat down on the pavement to think.

“Well it’s not possible.”

Simo nodded.

“That’s what I thought as well.”

There was a moment of silence, before Kailu spoke up again.

“Well no. It’s not quite impossible.”

Simo frowned, then took a seat beside him.

“Okay… Go on.”

“So, this is nothing but speculation. All of this.” Kailu turned to face Simo, gesturing toward the entire city, “But suppose the sacrifice twenty years ago was not performed traditionally. That the sacrificier did not perform his task the way it should.”

“Then the calamity would have occurred and our country would be in ruin.“ Simo replied simply.

“Well what if he found a way?” Kailu bit his lip, “He was the best that this country had ever raised. If anyone could-“

“Just a reminder, but you’re talking about a criminal here.” Simo raised an eyebrow.

“Yes… I know…” Kailu nodded slowly, “but all I was trying to say was, if anyone could’ve done it, then it was him.”

“Okay. So what does that change? Why would the calamity occur now, and not a century later? Simply because of…?” Simo trailed off slowly.

“The sword….” He muttered, turning his attention to Kailu, “It was broken.”

Kailu nodded and sighed.

“But there’s no way.” Simo continued, exasperated, “He did this on purpose?”

“Well I don’t know, but perhaps.”

“To strike us back while we were at our weakest.”

Kailu shrugged.

“It’s certainly a possible theory. Is it not?” He concluded, “Albeit slightly outlandish.”

Simo nodded slowly.

“It… does sound possible.”

Kailu looked Simo in the eyes, and for a moment they both saw faces filled with uncertainty.

“If what I suspect is true Simo, then the Kingdom may face toil unlike it had ever seen.”

“No more peaceful nights.”

Kailu sighed. The two friends sat in silence.

Fifteen minutes passed until suddenly an apprentice prophet burst out from the crypt, fear and anxiety so clear on his face it may as well have been written in ink.

“Vice-master Kailu, the prophet has awoken!” He shouted, “I-It’s the prophecy.”

Kailu and Simo glanced at one another, anxiety returning to their faces, and sprinted toward the crypt.

Inside, the uneasy peace that Kailu had left behind, had once again returned to madness and wild scrambling. He found himself in a flurry of action, as Acolytes hurried around with salves and oils, apprentice prophets ran circles around the pedestal praying, noting every word out of the now awakened Lord Prophet. Without a second thought, Kailu dashed to the prophets side and promptly prostrated himself.

“Master Gillian, your pupil, Kailu Sun, is here.”

There was a sudden moment of silence amongst the crowd of apprentices as the Lord prophet paused and cast him a dismissive glance. Then when the lord turned back to face the crowd, the room quickly returned to its usual bustle.

“You were not present when I awoke…vice-master.” The Lord, Master Gillian, spoke flatly, “I am disappointed that the one I considered my best pupil, did not regard our practice as his highest concern.”

“I-I’m sorry Master Gillian, I hadn’t intended to leave your side for long, o-only to ensure I could provide my best, without fatigue.” Kailu voice quavered as he answered.

“So, you tire of caring for your master… hm?” Master Gillian smirked, “The vice-master tires, yet the trainees do not.”

Kailu grit his teeth. He had known that stepping beyond the walls of this crypt was a bad idea, now he wonders what had even gotten into him, for him to make such a foolish decision.

“I apologise sincerely, Master Gillian.” He prostrated further.

The scribbling of the trainees fell silent as the lord prophet stared for a while at Kailu, then snorted.

“It shall be forgiven then.” He waved his sweat beaded arm, “Your blunders pale in the face of what shall soon come.”

Kailu looked up in fearful anxiety.

“W-what is to come, my lord?”

“Yeah, what is to come? Prophet.” An annoyed voice rung out from the back. It was Simo, leaning against the wall in a shadowed corner of the crypt.

The Lord Prophet snapped towards his voice, as though seeking an intruder, then squinted in disrelish as his eyes landed upon their target.

“Spymaster Lang.” The prophet snorted, spitting the name in disgust, “You better have the King’s regard, setting your bloodstained feet upon this holy floor.”

“The Kings regard I do have.” Simo replied, a cheeky smile forming upon his face, “And therefore. You. Answer. To me.”

The lord prophet scoffed.

“If that’s what the King has dictated, then that’s how it shall be.” He muttered under his breath, “So? I suppose you already know the story, and the King only wishes to know if another calamity is due?”

Simo smirked.

“Straight to the point, if you will.”

A murmur reverberated around the crypt as the prophet lifted himself and sat upon the pedestal.

“The Gods have spoken!” He announced, raising his hands religiously, “Relay this to the King. If a sacrifice is not made by the lunar crest of this coming year, a calamity will strike this land and leave it barren, but fertile for those who shall inherit!”

A wave of gasps resounded across the stone tomb. Kailu stood up in disbelief as shock coursed through his veins. He had theorized it, but never expected it to be true.

The calamity was arriving early.

He cast a glance at Simo and found him smiling nervously, unable to fully disguise his surprise.

It really was happening. The worst of the worst.

“If so, I must return to the royal palace immediately.” Simo finally dictated after taking a moment to recover.

“I will accompany.” Kailu raised his hand.

The Lord Prophet nodded, then chuckled.

“Yes… you go and do that.” He murmured, turning away slowly, “ But be quick now, for the end of the world is near.”

- End Chapter 1 -