Takri handed the banner bearing the symbol of the Locust to a waiting priest before approaching the oracle. His vision seemed to fold in upon itself, narrowing focus until only the battered old woman in the cart remained and all else faded away. The cheers of his fellow members of the Swarm felt like they were coming from somewhere far from the temple where he stood. Time stretched ahead of him like an eternity.
Steel yourself, young Narim. Do as the strigoi-viu commands. Be strong. You have work to do.
Takri pulled the old woman from the cart, but she was unable to stand on her own. He wrapped his arm under her shoulder and carried her to where Mahleck stood at the top of the stairs to the sanctuary with Baraz at his side.
"Drop her," commanded Baraz. "Let her kneel in submission to the God-Among-Men."
Do as he says, Narim.
Takri let go of the oracle, who crumpled into a heap at the base of the stairs. As she left his hands, his vision cleared. Time straightened back into place.
"The righteous God-Emperor Mahleck shall not lower himself to address a common woman, especially not a witch. Bring forth the fallen heresiarch, blind keeper of women. She shall address this so-called oracle to bring forth charges against her!" announced Baraz.
Two temple eunuchs brought the high priestess forward to face the crowd. She straightened her shoulders, once again taking the stance of the powerful woman who led the temple for the past two decades. "Zora of the aspen forest, false oracle, and witch," she cried. "You stand accused of heresy, necromancy, and false enchantments by the one true God Mahleck, Emperor of the known world, and rightful king of Adyll. The penalty for these crimes is death by fire. In his infinite mercy, Mahleck offers you redemption if you will ask forgiveness and renounce your belief in the demoness previously worshipped in Adyll as a filthy idol."
"Piss off, Dasha!" exclaimed Zora. "I will no longer call you by the title Holy Mother. Fear has left you a cruel puppet to this foul strigoi-viu. Two years ago, on this holy Night of Between, we Stars spoke of a coming evil. But you, Dasha, twisted our words to the people and weakened them. It is you who should repent!"
The former high priestess crumpled in on herself at the onslaught of the oracle's words then turned to Baraz and addressed him. "High Priest Baraz, the witch remains unrepentant."
"Burn her!" commanded Baraz.
You have performed your duty well, Narim. We release you now. Keep your young cousins from death.
Members of the Swarm pushed past Takri to pull the old woman away. A few angry murmurs went through the crowd as they were pushed further back from the pile of wood to make way for the condemned.
In the classroom, the women looked on in horror. Whispers of dissent floated among them.
The oracle accused the Holy Mother.
The Holy Mother is in league with the strigio-viu?
She would never betray the Lady. She is only trying to protect us!
The prophecy of the locust. I had forgotten.
Nasreen's eyes welled with tears as she watched Takri take his place next to Mahleck and Baraz at the top of the stairs. How could he do this? How could she do this? Has the Goddess truly left us all?
Aisha held on to her sobbing friend. She had already witnessed a sacrifice to the Locust King, and the Holy Mother's cruelty and loss of faith. The others had been shielded from the truth now laid bare before them.
The soldiers below tied the oracle to the limbless pine trunk at the center of the pyre. When they had completed the task, the oracle raised her head and locked eyes with Aisha where she sat above the crowd. She smiled a toothless grin, threw back her head and laughed as the executioner lit the fire below her.
"Let this be an example of what becomes of idolaters and heretics in the Land of the Locust!" yelled Mahleck as the flames crawled up the pyre. "As she is burned, so her sins are purified by the fire! Heresy can only be purged with flame!"
"Aisha, turn away!" cried Nasreen, covering her own face with her sleeves. "Do not watch this atrocity!"
Aisha’s gaze remained steady on the Oracle despite her friend’s pleas. The flames leapt upward but the old woman's laughter only grew stronger. The smell of smoke and roasted flesh began to waft through the temple grounds. Many turned away to empty the contents of their stomachs as the oracle's skin blistered and cracked, revealing bone underneath.
The pitch covering the logs burned hot as Nasreen had predicted, causing the assembled soldiers to fall back to avoid being burned themselves. Those who bore witness to the death of the Evening Star began saw the flames change before their eyes, becoming figures that danced and swayed before disappearing and reappearing. Inside the fire a multitude existed. Soon the flames of the torches along the temple walls and those carried by the soldiers bowed and swayed as if possessed.
Zora's voice erupted from every flame, magnified so that all could hear.
Captivity. Transformation. Emergence.
She lives among you.
The Blood of the Goddess.
He lives below you.
The Love of the Goddess.
His thirst is unending.
The Blood shall destroy the destroyer.
The cycle starts anew.
The pyre burned white and blue, whipped even higher by the winds from the north. Figures danced inside it, both skeletal and flesh. With one final laugh from the oracle, all went quiet. The flames suddenly extinguished, leaving only ash and charred bone behind. Above them, the sky no longer hung low with clouds. Instead, stars sparkled in the eastern sky.
Raptors descended upon the ashes, grasping skull and bones in their claws before flying away to the west, carrying with them the remains of the Evening Star. Takri stood alongside his master, the old woman's voice echoing one last time in his mind.
Evening Star sets.
Day Star becomes Evening Star
Morning Star becomes Day Star
A new star rises.