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tamingthemuseTitle: The Living God
Fandom: Original
Prompt: Malleable
Warnings: none
Rating: PG
Summary: The gods live among us, always watching, judging us for that day of reckoning. When not even the most powerful of people know who the living gods are, who are they to turn to when demons come to destroy the world?
When they arrived in the Royal City, Naxcha all but hid behind Chachtan as they were surrounded by hundreds of people. There were far more people in this small square of city than there were in the whole of her village. Chachtan had never attended the Royal City either, but he seemed far more at ease than she.
A royal guard met them at the entrance of the city, and then ordered them to shadow him to the great temple that towered over the buildings. The buildings themselves were all made of stone, stones as large as a man, smooth and carefully painted. Murals of hunts, hunters, warriors, and gods raced down the walls of streets. Green growing things overflowed from ledges, and people were thick in the street.
The temple was made of even larger rocks, each cut just right to fit into the groove of the next. The door was cloaked only by a thinly woven width of cloth tied to one side. The royal guard left them at the front court, and the temple guard ordered Chachtan to remain behind while Naxcha was led into the darkness.
She watched him over her shoulder as she was led away, and he held her gaze, his own steady, his body tense. The darkness of the temple swallowed up the light of the midday sun, and she finally turned to watch where she was going.
The walls were littered with sconces of small candles, only offering small pools of light that she knew scared the common folk away from the mysteries of the temple. Once passed the main halls, the candles were more practical and lit up the room.
There were maybe a dozen witches kneeling before a low table filled with knotted ropes and stone books. Naxcha stepped forward and found a pillow to kneel on, pulling one of the many codexes closer to her.
They were all filled with the myths and legends of their people, histories. Nothing that she hadn’t already known. She pushed the book away and looked at the others around her.
Young women and old both, brows furrowed as they read the ropes, the knots slipping through fingers, lips moving on silent words. Naxcha touched the shoulder of the woman next to her with the tips of her fingers.
“I have no knowledge of the language of the knots. Will you translate for me?”
The woman, black hair only just starting to turn to grey, turned toward her with a rope between her fingers, the fingers of the opposite hand pointing as she read out loud. “The City of the Birds on the Banks of Tear Trails River has fallen. Too many deaths to count, many from the illness that precedes the demons, and far more from the demons themselves.” She dropped the rope and her hands were shaking. “They kill more of our people everyday.” She didn’t pick up another rope.
Naxcha didn’t blame her, if all of the others were only more reports of death and loss. She shook her head. “Why are we here? This,” she said with a wave of her hand over the small table, “we already know. Why are we being gathered? Would we not be better suited to be with our people, helping?”
One of the older women, her hair nearly completely white, lifted her head. Her eyes were nearly lost in folds of skin as her age weighed heavily upon her. “Finally, a child that asked the questions that need to be asked. Why the answers we are not being given are making ends not quite meet.”
“There’s something else going on here,” Naxcha murmured, her hand drifting to the scarf that she still wore over her head.
“Something that we don’t have all the information for,” the woman answered. She touched a wrinkled hand to the table before her. “We should not have all gathered here.”
“It’s too late,” Naxcha said, glancing at the women now staring at the two of them, fear clear in their dark eyes. She tried for a smile. “The Emperor sent for us. Whatever we are here for, it is by his will. This is our destiny.”
Fandom: Original
Prompt: Malleable
Warnings: none
Rating: PG
Summary: The gods live among us, always watching, judging us for that day of reckoning. When not even the most powerful of people know who the living gods are, who are they to turn to when demons come to destroy the world?
When they arrived in the Royal City, Naxcha all but hid behind Chachtan as they were surrounded by hundreds of people. There were far more people in this small square of city than there were in the whole of her village. Chachtan had never attended the Royal City either, but he seemed far more at ease than she.
A royal guard met them at the entrance of the city, and then ordered them to shadow him to the great temple that towered over the buildings. The buildings themselves were all made of stone, stones as large as a man, smooth and carefully painted. Murals of hunts, hunters, warriors, and gods raced down the walls of streets. Green growing things overflowed from ledges, and people were thick in the street.
The temple was made of even larger rocks, each cut just right to fit into the groove of the next. The door was cloaked only by a thinly woven width of cloth tied to one side. The royal guard left them at the front court, and the temple guard ordered Chachtan to remain behind while Naxcha was led into the darkness.
She watched him over her shoulder as she was led away, and he held her gaze, his own steady, his body tense. The darkness of the temple swallowed up the light of the midday sun, and she finally turned to watch where she was going.
The walls were littered with sconces of small candles, only offering small pools of light that she knew scared the common folk away from the mysteries of the temple. Once passed the main halls, the candles were more practical and lit up the room.
There were maybe a dozen witches kneeling before a low table filled with knotted ropes and stone books. Naxcha stepped forward and found a pillow to kneel on, pulling one of the many codexes closer to her.
They were all filled with the myths and legends of their people, histories. Nothing that she hadn’t already known. She pushed the book away and looked at the others around her.
Young women and old both, brows furrowed as they read the ropes, the knots slipping through fingers, lips moving on silent words. Naxcha touched the shoulder of the woman next to her with the tips of her fingers.
“I have no knowledge of the language of the knots. Will you translate for me?”
The woman, black hair only just starting to turn to grey, turned toward her with a rope between her fingers, the fingers of the opposite hand pointing as she read out loud. “The City of the Birds on the Banks of Tear Trails River has fallen. Too many deaths to count, many from the illness that precedes the demons, and far more from the demons themselves.” She dropped the rope and her hands were shaking. “They kill more of our people everyday.” She didn’t pick up another rope.
Naxcha didn’t blame her, if all of the others were only more reports of death and loss. She shook her head. “Why are we here? This,” she said with a wave of her hand over the small table, “we already know. Why are we being gathered? Would we not be better suited to be with our people, helping?”
One of the older women, her hair nearly completely white, lifted her head. Her eyes were nearly lost in folds of skin as her age weighed heavily upon her. “Finally, a child that asked the questions that need to be asked. Why the answers we are not being given are making ends not quite meet.”
“There’s something else going on here,” Naxcha murmured, her hand drifting to the scarf that she still wore over her head.
“Something that we don’t have all the information for,” the woman answered. She touched a wrinkled hand to the table before her. “We should not have all gathered here.”
“It’s too late,” Naxcha said, glancing at the women now staring at the two of them, fear clear in their dark eyes. She tried for a smile. “The Emperor sent for us. Whatever we are here for, it is by his will. This is our destiny.”
