She had seen it. No one had taken her seriously, because she was so young. Cheri was tired of all prophets having to be old and hunched. She knew what she was doing.
She had seen it in the sky. The sky was so rare for a prophet, but she knew. There was a darkness rising. There always seemed to be.
But she was going to meet someone.
Cheri thanked the strawberry farmer who had allowed her to ride in his cart with the gift of a small parcel of tea leaves. He tried to refuse them — she always forgot that they were far more valuable to others than they were to her — but she insisted he take it, and left.
The sky had told her she would talk to a woman outside a clothing store, then meet a textile merchant at the docks.
Which way were the docks? She steered clear of the bustling market. There was no point in trying there — she would just get lost in the chaos. These streets were packed with more stores and quieter shoppers.
There she was!
“Excuse me.” Cheri ran to a woman reorganizing shirts on a shelf. “Which way are the docks?”
“Just keep heading down this street.” The woman pointed.
Cheri nodded. “Do you know of any ships heading north?”
“Most of them do.” The woman frowned. “You can’t expect to buy passage. They’re full of northerners and whatever goods they can’t sell here. They would never let you on.”
“It’s not a problem,” Cheri said. “I’ve got bigger things to figure out.”
The docks weren’t far. She scanned the busy walkways for a dark wooden ship with gray sails, the one she had seen in her vision. Cheri made sure her prophet tools were fully on display before she approached it. Her knife and bowl were tied onto her belt, and her necklace was placed in the middle of her chest. Perfect. She had rehearsed a few speeches a million times already — she was going on a pilgrimage to be fully inducted. Or she was traveling to university. Or she was meeting a friend across the ocean, which was the closest to the truth she could come up with. She might want to decide on one soon.
Luckily, the textile merchant asked minimal questions. Was she a prophet — yes — did she need transportation — yes — had she finished her training — almost — was she from the settlement across the bay — also yes. Cheri quickly started helping load the boxes, running through her task in her mind. She would meet the person in her vision, and then they would face the new darkness together.
Cheri walked onto the boat once everything was loaded. She had to grip the railing to stay upright. Hopefully she would get used to the sensation soon. She stared back at the city. It was already fading farther away.
Everything was in place. She was going north. She was going on an adventure. She was going to meet someone.
She had seen it in the sky. The sky was so rare for a prophet, but she knew. There was a darkness rising. There always seemed to be.
But she was going to meet someone.
Cheri thanked the strawberry farmer who had allowed her to ride in his cart with the gift of a small parcel of tea leaves. He tried to refuse them — she always forgot that they were far more valuable to others than they were to her — but she insisted he take it, and left.
The sky had told her she would talk to a woman outside a clothing store, then meet a textile merchant at the docks.
Which way were the docks? She steered clear of the bustling market. There was no point in trying there — she would just get lost in the chaos. These streets were packed with more stores and quieter shoppers.
There she was!
“Excuse me.” Cheri ran to a woman reorganizing shirts on a shelf. “Which way are the docks?”
“Just keep heading down this street.” The woman pointed.
Cheri nodded. “Do you know of any ships heading north?”
“Most of them do.” The woman frowned. “You can’t expect to buy passage. They’re full of northerners and whatever goods they can’t sell here. They would never let you on.”
“It’s not a problem,” Cheri said. “I’ve got bigger things to figure out.”
The docks weren’t far. She scanned the busy walkways for a dark wooden ship with gray sails, the one she had seen in her vision. Cheri made sure her prophet tools were fully on display before she approached it. Her knife and bowl were tied onto her belt, and her necklace was placed in the middle of her chest. Perfect. She had rehearsed a few speeches a million times already — she was going on a pilgrimage to be fully inducted. Or she was traveling to university. Or she was meeting a friend across the ocean, which was the closest to the truth she could come up with. She might want to decide on one soon.
Luckily, the textile merchant asked minimal questions. Was she a prophet — yes — did she need transportation — yes — had she finished her training — almost — was she from the settlement across the bay — also yes. Cheri quickly started helping load the boxes, running through her task in her mind. She would meet the person in her vision, and then they would face the new darkness together.
Cheri walked onto the boat once everything was loaded. She had to grip the railing to stay upright. Hopefully she would get used to the sensation soon. She stared back at the city. It was already fading farther away.
Everything was in place. She was going north. She was going on an adventure. She was going to meet someone.