Read Online There Comes A Prophet by David Litwack - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: David Litwack
Tags: Science-Fiction
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a hat with six red stripes and had a beard two hands long. An arch vicar. She'd learned the rankings in school, but had never seen a vicar so powerful. He glared at her, unblinking, his thick brows hooding his eyes.
"The darkness was much more." His voice echoed to the arches, which were lost in the shadows cast by candles that dotted the walls. "The teaching will help you understand what it was, so you'll never forget the need to obey the Temple of Light."
Orah held her head high and tried to stay focused, but her gaze kept wandering.
The clergymen sat at a curved desk mounted high on a platform, forcing the one before them to strain their neck to see. A tapestry covered the wall behind them, climbing halfway up the dome. Its colors had faded, but its meaning was clear. On one side, a sun beaming across rows of vicars with arms uplifted in prayer. On the other, a black thunderhead threatening the advancing host. The battle of darkness and light.
And beneath her feet, the hatch hiding the teaching cell.
She shook off such thoughts and answered with a firm voice.
"I look forward to your help. I'm an excellent student and eager to learn."
"And so you shall. Orah. Isn't that a name from one of the forbidden languages?"
"It may be, sir. I'm told it means light." She wavered, then conjured up an image of her father. Her back stiffened and she lifted her chin. "It's a proud name that's been in my family for generations."
"But a forbidden name, nevertheless. Rules exist so the darkness may never return. Yet you play loosely with the rules. That means you do not know the darkness. But, Orah of Little Pond, whose name means light, we shall see that you learn... " He leaned forward for emphasis. "... to the depths of your being."
For the first time, she began to wither under his stare. Her hands swung behind her as she tried to hide how much they'd started to shake.
***
As he approached, Nathaniel could no longer suppress his sense of awe. The Ponds had no buildings of more than one story, and all were made of wood. But even from a distance Temple City soared. Elaborate stone structures, some standing six stories high, challenged the low-lying clouds that dotted the morning sky.
But all changed once he entered the city. While the official buildings dominated the horizon, the homes were small and ill-kept-lodgings no one in Little Pond would deem fit to live in. But there was something else. The hospitality of the Ponds was nowhere to be found. People here were fearful of strangers and trudged about with the bent-over gait of someone who's been recently beaten.
Though quick to get there, he lost time finding his way. He wandered in circles, passing the same buildings again and again.
Periodically, he ran into bands of men marching four abreast. Temple officials, he assumed, but not vicars. They wore no hat and their tunics matched his, except for the insignia on their chests-the sun icon shining down on the adoring family of three. In the center of the sun lay a gem in the shape of a star. It held no color of its own but reflected the colors from its surroundings.
The men strutted about with disdain for all they passed. He took a hint from the locals and shied away from them.
By the fourth loop, he'd become desperate. Time felt like lifeblood leaking from his veins. He finally approached a woman who reminded him of Orah's mother.
"Can you tell me how to find a vicar?"
Her kind face became dismayed. "By the light, man, why? No one speaks to the clergy unless spoken to first."
"Please help me. A friend's been taken for a teaching and I have to find her."
The woman backed off and scurried away without answering.
It wasn't until the third try that he changed his approach. He stopped a boy who was hurrying home with his head down and a bag of flour under his arm.
"Can you tell me who these men are, marching with the mark of the Temple?"
"Why sir, they're deacons, defenders of the light."
"Do you think they'd help me
"The darkness was much more." His voice echoed to the arches, which were lost in the shadows cast by candles that dotted the walls. "The teaching will help you understand what it was, so you'll never forget the need to obey the Temple of Light."
Orah held her head high and tried to stay focused, but her gaze kept wandering.
The clergymen sat at a curved desk mounted high on a platform, forcing the one before them to strain their neck to see. A tapestry covered the wall behind them, climbing halfway up the dome. Its colors had faded, but its meaning was clear. On one side, a sun beaming across rows of vicars with arms uplifted in prayer. On the other, a black thunderhead threatening the advancing host. The battle of darkness and light.
And beneath her feet, the hatch hiding the teaching cell.
She shook off such thoughts and answered with a firm voice.
"I look forward to your help. I'm an excellent student and eager to learn."
"And so you shall. Orah. Isn't that a name from one of the forbidden languages?"
"It may be, sir. I'm told it means light." She wavered, then conjured up an image of her father. Her back stiffened and she lifted her chin. "It's a proud name that's been in my family for generations."
"But a forbidden name, nevertheless. Rules exist so the darkness may never return. Yet you play loosely with the rules. That means you do not know the darkness. But, Orah of Little Pond, whose name means light, we shall see that you learn... " He leaned forward for emphasis. "... to the depths of your being."
For the first time, she began to wither under his stare. Her hands swung behind her as she tried to hide how much they'd started to shake.
***
As he approached, Nathaniel could no longer suppress his sense of awe. The Ponds had no buildings of more than one story, and all were made of wood. But even from a distance Temple City soared. Elaborate stone structures, some standing six stories high, challenged the low-lying clouds that dotted the morning sky.
But all changed once he entered the city. While the official buildings dominated the horizon, the homes were small and ill-kept-lodgings no one in Little Pond would deem fit to live in. But there was something else. The hospitality of the Ponds was nowhere to be found. People here were fearful of strangers and trudged about with the bent-over gait of someone who's been recently beaten.
Though quick to get there, he lost time finding his way. He wandered in circles, passing the same buildings again and again.
Periodically, he ran into bands of men marching four abreast. Temple officials, he assumed, but not vicars. They wore no hat and their tunics matched his, except for the insignia on their chests-the sun icon shining down on the adoring family of three. In the center of the sun lay a gem in the shape of a star. It held no color of its own but reflected the colors from its surroundings.
The men strutted about with disdain for all they passed. He took a hint from the locals and shied away from them.
By the fourth loop, he'd become desperate. Time felt like lifeblood leaking from his veins. He finally approached a woman who reminded him of Orah's mother.
"Can you tell me how to find a vicar?"
Her kind face became dismayed. "By the light, man, why? No one speaks to the clergy unless spoken to first."
"Please help me. A friend's been taken for a teaching and I have to find her."
The woman backed off and scurried away without answering.
It wasn't until the third try that he changed his approach. He stopped a boy who was hurrying home with his head down and a bag of flour under his arm.
"Can you tell me who these men are, marching with the mark of the Temple?"
"Why sir, they're deacons, defenders of the light."
"Do you think they'd help me
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