The Worlds of the Sheaf

Veglia - Part 3

     Three of the ship's four priests were back in the chapel. Drenn Pietar, the priest of Samnos, and Timothy Birch, the cleric of Caroli, were kneeling before the altar, Drenn on one knee, Timothy on both, while Daleen Verdantia, the priestess of Ramthara, was standing behind them, her head bowed. Her eyes squeezed shut and her hands clasped tightly in front of her.

     All three were trying to contact their Gods, straining to hear the faint but clear voice that would tell them they were still in contact with their deities. All three were feeling some degree of anxiety, like little children in a busy shopping centre who'd lost sight of their parents, and they were each dealing with it in their own way. Drenn Pietar was refusing to give any outward sign of his distress and was giving a convincing show of confidence and normality. Only in the privacy of his own thoughts did he wonder whether Samnos would be able to gather in his soul if he died here. Have faith and fear not, he told himself. Nothing can happen that is not the will of Samnos.

     Timothy and Daleen were both visibly flustered, though, the priestess of Ramthara so upset that she couldn't even bring herself to kneel. Instead, she paced back and forth restlessly, her knuckles white as she squeezed her hands together, grasping her holy symbol like a drowning woman clutching at a lifebelt.

     "I can't hear her!" she almost wailed. "I can't hear her at all! I'm lost! Lost!"

     "No you're not," assured Drenn confidently, rising to his feet and taking her by the shoulders. "You have your faith, and what more does a priest really need? She can hear you, even if you are not currently able to hear Her, and you can be sure that She will be with you when you need Her the most."

     She stared gratefully at him. "Can you hear Samnos?" she asked.

     "No," he admitted, "but He seldom speaks to us anyway. What about you, Timothy Birch?"

     Timothy rose to his feet and collapsed into one of the pews with a sigh. "Nothing," he said. "What if someone's injured? Will I be able to heal him?"

     "Possibly not," admitted Drenn, "but there's no-one on this ship who didn't know the risks when they signed on. I doubt we are completely out of touch with our Gods, however. I don't know about either of you, but I can still feel something. Very faint and far away, but it's there. It's something to cling to at least."

     Timothy stared into the air as he concentrated. "Yes, I think you're right," he agreed. "Something... But is it enough to allow me to heal?"

     "I can't feel anything!" cried Daleen. "Nothing at all! My faith is too weak! I'm being punished for my failings!"

     "No you're not," said Timothy gently. "Look, Ramthara is the Goddess of life, right?" She nodded, red eyed. "Well, we're way out in the middle of empty space at the moment, aren't we? There's no life for millions of miles in any direction. That's why your Goddess seems so distant at the moment. I'm sure you'll be able to hear Her when we get closer to a living planet."

     "Do you really think so?" she pleaded, staring hopefully into his eyes."

     "I'm certain of it," the cleric of Caroli replied. "You just need some time on your own to meditate. To allow the peace of the Gods to enter your soul. And even if you can't sense the presence of Ramthara on the felisian world, you have the comfort of knowing that She'll be waiting for you when we return home. In the meantime, you are Her ambassador to a whole new race of people. If you can bring them to revere Her, bring them closer to the Gods of life of this universe, you will find great favour in Her eyes and She will be sure to reward you for it."