Chapter Fourteen

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Awakening, The Prophet

They came to a cathedral. It dwarfed any church that Moses had ever seen. Towers rose from it’s many rooves, stain-glass murals decorated the walls. Huge story boards laid out. Moses was having trouble taking in the rest of the city, but this place ..

You could sit here for hours looking, and still not find everything.

Heran turned to him.

“Before you is the greatest of stories. It tells of the struggle between light and darkness. It was Jesse King’s vision. And .. You are in it.”

Moses felt the surprise, but so much had happened that it didn’t register on his face.

The walls were enormous, but he scanned them anyway. Looking for some recognition. The pictures drew him in, they were alive. Some kind of magic lived within them.

And then he saw himself. But it wasn’t him exactly. Too tall, too good-looking. And the figure in the center of the many mural’d walls had a presence, even in a picture, that he could only wish for.

They moved towards the cathedral. It’s great doors were open, a thick blue and red carpet rolled down the marble steps. You could see all the way into the center room, where the figures were standing.

The Assembly.

There were guards alongside the carpet, swords at their sides, halberds at an angle. Orbs floated above, turning endlessly.

Seealls. Security cameras, magic ones. Some things are the same.

There was much that Moses recognised as they walked forward into the massive room ahead. Even though he had not written of this place, this temple, Jesse King had talked about building it in the books. It had been in Moses’ mind, but not fleshed out.

This is more than I could have imagined.

The Assembly stood silent as they arrived. A great gong was struck, unseen.

The three lead figures, dressed in silver rather than grey, lifted their hands. A low hum began. A chant.

Haannuummaannuumm.

It continued.

Hanumanum.

The song answered within Moses. He felt the words within him, responding. It was the language of the Gaels, a sect of monks.

Ganumael.

The Assembly bowed their heads as one, and the chant ended.

“Telos naribida galush. Icth forulas me’h tael. Hanumanum.”

One of the three silver-robed Assembly spoke with a loud clear voice. Sonorous would be the word.

The Assembly responded.

“Ganumael.”

They then took their seats, all except the three silvers.

“They say you are the Prophet.”

Another of the silver-robed Assembly had a different tone in his voice. Not nasal, not whiny, but it struck discord in Moses. It seemed he had spoken out of turn, mutterings came from the seated men and women.

The third silver-robed figure drew her hood back.

“Michal. It is he.”

Moses blinked. Before him was an older, but no less stunning, picture of Jenn.

Her mother.

Michal didn’t seem to like her answer. He stepped towards Moses.

“Truth is a weapon. As is trust. We trust too much in a d ..”

“Truth.”

The silver-robed figure who spoke first in Gael also drew back his hood. Michal stopped talking.

“Michal is correct. Here today, we have truth before us. A weapon. Salvation lies with the Prophet. This is truth.”

Michal drew breath. “But he will be our destruction. We cannot trust this .. This man. You see what I see. Chaos shimmers around him.”

As Michal spoke, Moses began to hear sounds coming from outside the walls. Noises.

“.. So for whatever reason he is here, let us not place the mantle of salvation upon him. Not yet, if indeed at all.”

Others were beginning to hear the noise too. They turned in their seats.

The silver-robed man that wasn’t Michal lowered his head, closing his eyes.

“He has come.”

He brought his eyes open as he lifted his head, and looked straight at Moses.

“You must go. Back to your place.” He pushed at Moses, with his hand .. And with magic.

Moses began to fade. The room began to fade, at the corners of his vision. Jenn appeared and ran towards him. The tall silver-robed man was speaking.

“Leah, remember the path. You must take her and walk it now. Michal. He has come. We must bring battle to hi ..”

The back wall of the Cathedral, where the mural of the Moses-likeness was, burst inwards. Rubble and dust flew thick and deadly. Some of the robed Assembly were down. Invisible walls and hands shielded most. The dust was cleared, swept away.

As Moses’ vision faded completely, he saw Daerin Sarvant standing tall in the center of a massive hold in the wall.

“PROPHET.”

The voice crashed into his brain.

“CATCH YOU NEXT TIME.”

This the final chapter in “Awakening”, the first book in The Prophet series. Stayed turned for book two, “Nadir”.

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