Riddle

Termination? Final message? What happened? Why would we no longer hear from Ministra? She always spoke to us. It might have only been once a year, but that was constant as the sun does fall and rise again. So why would She stop? What happened? What does this mean?

I couldn’t move from my spot. I think my legs froze or maybe lost blood. Probably neither, but I don’t think I could lift a toe right now. If someone looked at me they’d probably think I was a ghost at the moment. There was a faint sense of lightheadedness. I knew that wasn’t part of Ministra’s word. No, it was me.

I couldn’t fathom Ministra’s divinity. I failed. Just a few words completely broke my body. It’s so pathetic of me. I slapped my fist against my thigh thinking that would get it to move. All it did was make my hand hurt. Damn, I shouldn’t have hit that hard.

The last of Her humming faded into the ceiling. I could no longer feel Her warmth surrounding me. That comforting hug from the presence of Her word, I wished it could have lingered even another second. If She was right, I would never feel it again.

What am I saying, if She was right?

She was Ministra, She was always right. Always.

I’m never going to hear her words. Again. This will be gone. Vacated, devoid of light. No reason or logic, the rhyme of words was now just the past. No future.

Future. No future!

One year.

How? This can’t be right.

Termination, that meant a cessation, the end to all things in totality. She said Termination of Etnera. That was the name She granted our home, our land. Everything as far as the explorers and brave heroes had journey to see. And all that we had yet to know. It encompassed it all and it would be over.

I fell to the ground as my back stopped to function. My arms splayed out as I just stared up at the ceiling. While the walls kept to simple practical support the entire surface above mapped out each dot in the night sky. Every known constellation that we charted and the poets told tales about painted in beautiful prismatic tones. They would glow in harmony with Ministra’s words. We knew not why, just that was Her strength.

They would never light again, would they? Just the thought of that made me cry. She would never be here anymore. How could that be? Why would that be? Why was it ending?

Why am I questioning Her?

I can’t doubt what She said.

I just stared.

The pigments already began to fade away, losing the charge of Her word. They were the last signs that She had been here. I stretched out my hand grasping at the air. Don’t. Stay. Please, Ministra! But the last of the light disappeared, becoming only normal paints, still wonderfully illustrated on stone. Yet they were lacking now.

I slide my head to the side not even seeing the wall or closed door. My eyes stretched out into a blur, imagining the greenery beyond the village and the mountains of Lost Betron. Did everyone else feel this way too? Every Speaker would have heard Ministra the same as me. Maybe even already out speaking with the Priests and elders.

A distant echo tapped on me. I shook it away. I wanted to just stare at the mountains a little longer. Please. Something scratched at me, empty long claws that raked at my temple. I flinched. And the Sanctum returned around me. It was knocking on the door. That was what stirred me.

Right, duty.

Staring down at my legs, I gave them some side eye as I rolled over. It wasn’t proper or dignified for the Speaker to be tumbling over like a child playing in the flowers, but I didn’t have the full mental capacity for being an adult right now. They wouldn’t see me. Only me and Ministra. Ministra…

Would She still see me? She still was there watching over us even with no more words, right? She would stand with us through this year the same as before, yes?

I slowly pushed myself up, forcing my body to act.

“Speaker Eshikra?”

How long had it been? Not more than a few minutes right? I guess they were excited to know what She said. But what would they say to what I learned? I still didn’t know what I felt. Half of me felt hollow, carved out as though Ministra did the deed herself. The other part was clawing tendrils just grasping at anything that moved. How could I deliver any sort of prophecy like this?

“Speaker?”

Slapping my hands at my hips, I sharpened up. I had to face them. I’m the Speaker. The conveyor of Her word. “I’m ready, Head Priest Cathlin. I have heard Her word.”

A slight groan from released wood bled into the Sanctum as they unbarred the door. Two pairs of feet hurried about carrying the weight. More distant voices like whispers started to penetrate through the wood. All of the Priests had gathered along with the no doubt a few curious acolytes. I could hear more clearly as the door started to crack open, being firmly told to leave.

I had to speak with my seniors first. Were the prophecy too difficult for me to solve it would be up to everyone to come to a consensus on what Ministra’s word meant. But I didn’t foresee any confusion this time. She was quite clear.

The door fully open, three Priests stepped into the Sanctum. Two men and a woman, all at least twenty years my elder and all previous Speakers. They understood the weight that came with the title and what it meant to navigate Her meaning.

Behind them the door closed and in a semicircle facing me, they looked with anticipation not knowing what I had to tell them would alter everything. Nothing would be the same. Normally, that would sound overly dramatic and not a rational way to approach Her message, but not this time. It was the only way to see it.

“What has She said, Speaker?”

I took in a deep breath and paused. My mind focused on Her words. As much as it shattered me like a stone through glass, I could still find every piece of Her divinity. I had to be Her Speaker, Her last Speaker. Last. Final.

Exhaling, I faced them properly. “Ministra spoke. Announcement: Final message to follow. Termination of designation Etnera confirmed in one standard year. All work has been completed. No further messages. Thank you for your participation. End of message. Thus did She speak.”

Silence.

That was only to be expected. It came as a welcomed pause. I needed it. I still wanted it. Give it back to me. But it didn’t last. “T-that was Her prophecy, Speaker?” asked Priestess Flaita. She couldn’t hide the rattle in her voice anymore than the shaking in her arms. I had known her for five years since I joined and even longer when I visited as a child. I could only face her with resolute determination. “N-no, of course. Thank you, Speaker.”

“But what does it mean?” Cathlin spoke, surprising me. He held the title of Speaker for nearly ten years. More than anyone, it should have been clear to him. His hand leaned on to Priest Geth next to him. It looked like his legs might buckle. “Termination, the end? What end does Ministra foresee for us?”

What end? She was clear, the end of our home. She didn’t present a riddle this time. “Head Cathlin, She said this was Her last message. It is the end of everything as we understand it. Whatever continues only She will see.”

He shook his head at me, maybe or was it internally. His eyes darted around and hand shook so much that they blurred to me. It looked like he was going to pass out. I wanted to rush to his side to help, but he just kept clinging onto Geth harder. “No, when She doesn’t speak in clear certain words, it is we who must pull out the meaning hidden with Her divine missive. This is not the end, She means something else Speaker.”

“What else could She mean?” I looked over to Geth who looked the most composed of us. “How long before I must address the village?”

“Twenty minutes.”

That long passed?! I looked back to my seniors. I could feel the clear sense in the room. This wasn’t a prophecy that could be given to the people. But what did they expect to say? We can’t lie! These are Her last words.

What am I supposed to do?