The Founding Myth

The sorcerer observed the figure with mistrust, though she didn’t give off any form of magic. A human girl. Compared to the creatures inhabiting this world, she had no claws, no fangs. Nothing that could seem dangerous.

“Ohh, forgive me. It seems that I frightened your young friend.”

     Lowering her hood, the stranger unveiled a face with soft features. Time still hadn’t grown bored from embellishing her. Her eyes, starry sky tinted, laid upon Gretel. Lingering.

“She’s a fairy, isn’t she?”

     As the ghost didn’t seem to be one, the little fairy ended up letting out a little relieved sigh. Ghosts aren’t polite, right?

“Indeed.” Henox answered instead of the latter who still needed time for her emotions to subside.

“How small she is.”

     The sorcerer didn’t take his eyes off the stranger. His own distrust hadn’t faded away.

“Do you live in this village?”

“Yes. Oh, I didn’t even give you my name. I am Lucrecia.”

“It’s not quite typical to live in such a deserted place.” She didn’t seem to understand at once. “Ahh it’s true that at this time the streets are rather… peaceful.”

“Sir Henox, Sir Henox.” Gretel tugged on his goatskin. Is what is peaceful really supposed to be scary?”

     He smirked. Reaching out the hand he could still move towards the little fairy, the sorcerer patted the top of her head with the tip of his index finger.

     Gretel, who still awaited him to answer puffed her cheeks. She vaguely frowned, but didn’t succeed at it.

“Then where are the other inhabitants?” Henox gazed back at Lucrecia.

“They are at the mass.”

“Everyone?” Henox raised an eyebrow.

“Yes.”

“I’m astonished to see not even a single child had escaped it. These creatures are ordinarily rather disruptive.”

“Unfortunately, there are no children in this village.”

     Exchanging a look, Gretel and Henox shared the same disbelief. Though before one of them could think of a remark to utter, Lucrecia’s gaze lingered on Henox’s brace.

“Come with me, I will introduce you to the High Priest. He will be able to heal your wound.

     Without waiting for their answer, the young woman turned away from them, already moving off step by step.

     Before her silhouette got shrouded in fog, Henox decided to follow her.

“The prayer has just ended, but they still listen to the High Priest’s sermon.”

“How is it that you didn’t stay with them?” Henox asked.

“It’s a special day for me.” Her smile grew larger. This is why I have been allowed to leave sooner.”

     Before them, the shadow of the highest construction in the village began to shape, a huge bronze bell hanging at the top of the tower.

     The streets were all this forsaken, as in favour of the greyness. Lucrecia obviously hadn’t lied to them, she was the only person outside. And, as they enclosed the church’s doors, a voice seemed to reach them from the other side.

     Though a sole thing truly held Henox’s attention. It was from what was made this mist. It was all of these stagnant souls, by dozens intertwined in the air around them.

***

“Let us never forget our duty which is to show day after day our devotion to the goddess Kishar. It is together that we will face the hardships she put in our way. It’s together that we will respond in a same voice to her doubts, to her pain as well as to her anger. And we will answer it… by love!”

     He extended a hand with grace and conviction before himself, grabbing between his fingers what he couldn’t grab, his fingertips wrapped in bandages seeming to grasp the air. From his gaze emanated this faith, this sort of infectious ardour which held the gazes of the numerous worshippers gathered, half-filling the church’s benches.

     When a weak creaking of the jaded wood signalled the arrival of new onlookers, the High Priest briefly oriented his eyes of an almost white grey towards the double door. Beholding what he couldn’t behold.

     Though his concentration was not flustered at all.

“For, my dear friends, let us remember one more time the founding myth.”

     His voice echoing in the whole church – although he didn’t even raise his voice – was enough to dissipate the few murmurs induced by the appearance of two strangers at Lucrecia’s side.

“Erstwhile, all the creatures of this world, without exception, were gifted with magic. The goddess Kishar, who ruled over them all, loved this world so much that she offered us the priceless grace of her presence. She lived among us. She liked sharing our joys as well as our sorrows… and sometimes even our nights.

     He paused a brief moment, half-closing his eyes and bearing a softened smile.

“Among all the creatures, there was one who achieved to find grace in her eyes. If all of them received her love, one received more of it. A creature whose beauty matched the nymphs’. Of whom it is told that her eyes were like the sky. Never they had two days the same hue. Allesya. It’s the name of the one who conquered Kishar’s heart. Naturally, as any lucid creature would have, she gifted her with her love in return. And many a moon has passed, offering this world the most perfect harmony it had ever known. Alas. Vice hides in each of us, lurking in our hearts. Lucidity gave way to stupidity,” the High Priest leant a tightened fist against his chest “when a night, instead of returning to Kishar’s arms, it was in another lover’s arms that Allesya had thrown herself. Furious, hurt, Kishar had then inflicted them a divine punishment. She retrieved the magic from Allesya and the man having shared her bed. From there, from their progeny had appeared the human beings, the only beings devoid of magic.”

     His pale eyes gazed across the assembly in a practised motion, in a reflex earned over the years.

“Since that day, the goddess has never trod our lands. And it is up to us, the offspring of the sinner, to repair the original sin. The goddess has affection for each of you, and she will not abandon you. Have faith in her.”

     Whispers of endorsement spread over the assembly and, soon, voices raised one after the other. Their words echoed one another.

“Blessed be the goddess Kishar!”

     Eventually, the High Priest turned away from the worshippers before returning to the altar, ending the sermon.

     His fingers came to trace the outline of the stone when he stopped, raising his eyes towards the stone statue of Kishar. Despite his blindness, he had printed in his memory the feminine features. He would have described without difficulty the undulation of each one of the curls, the folds of the thin strip of fabric covering her breasts, her pelvis.

     While the inhabitants of the village were leaving the church, Lucrecia made in contrary her way towards the choir, followed by the sorcerer and the little fairy.

     Men, women, old-timers. More men than women. No children among them. Henox didn’t miss to observe them attentively. And if he noticed men of all ages, he was surprised not to behold any woman of the age of Lucrecia.

“Would you mind waiting for me here for a while?” The latter had turned towards them with a gentle smile.

     Henox nodded. As for Gretel… well, if the sorcerer waited it seemed obvious, after all, that she would be waiting as well.

     So, they merely followed the young woman with their eyes. The latter enclosed the High Priest. He turned towards her at the sound of her voice. For a few moments, they saw Lucrecia’s lips moving. Then, a smile answered her. Outpacing the High Priest’s words.

“I am glad for you.” Gretel took the opportunity to tell Henox. Thanks to them, you’ll be soon no longer in pain.”

“It’s not like the pain was unbearable.”

“But as long as it is here, you can’t smile.”

     Henox had barely the time to glance at her as Lucrecia gestured at him to come forward and join them.

“What a pleasure to greet you in our village, travellers.”

     The High Priest spoke to them as soon as he perceived their footsteps had grown closer. Despite his words, his tone always remained composed. He turned his eyes towards Henox’s, to the same height as his.

“I am Oswynn, High Priest of this village.” He extended his arms on both sides before adding. “Welcome, welcome to Desphia.”