Prophet of the Gods

Chapter 3: The Test

Father cupped her face. "I'm confident you'll be chosen." 

More tears. She hugged him again, "How will I live without you guys?"

"You won't have to," he said. "We're not gone, we'll be right here waiting for you." He pulled away, and pulled a small box out of his pocket. "Here."

Genevieve took the box and opened it. 

It was an ebony praying bracelet, engraved with gold letters- lusiav. Strength. She knew this bracelet well. She's seen it on the wrist of her grandmother, Father's mother, every time they've gone to visit her up until the time of her death. Have strength was her motto. This bracelet meant a lot to her father and his family. "Father-" 

He shook his head and stepped back. "It's yours. She would have wanted you to have it."

"I can't take it, this is yours," she said, trying to give it back. "I might lose it." 

"No, you won't," he said, taking it and tying it around her wrist. "Take it with you. I'm not asking you to pray. But keep it with you for Lusiav. Have strength daughter."

"I will," she said, studying the detailed adornment on her wrist.

After one last hug from Mira who tugged her arm and reminded her to write often and tell her about the palace, she and Father set off for the train station. 

Their town was smaller compared to others. It's name was actually Xith, but Genevieve has never heard anyone call it that. There were nine sectors of Olumia, all surrounding the blooming capital of Olumia where the palace was located. Each sector was overseen by a Sector Master. In each sector was around a dozen towns. Their town was smack in the middle of their sector, Sector 3. Every town was led by a mayor. Their mayor was Oliver Cren. 

Oliver Cren was waiting for Gen when they arrived at the station. 

"Genevieve! Roan!" he boomed, a smile coming on his face. 

Gen smiled. She actually quite liked their mayor. He was fair, kind, and a good leader. He's called on Gen for advice on how to continue when there's an issue that needed her expertise and she's done her best to help him with ruling their town how the people would want it. 

"Oliver!" said Father. "It's good to see you." They shook hands warmly. 

"Likewise," he said, turning his attention to Gen. "And you! A royal prophet from our own humble little town, can you imagine!?"

She blushed, "I don't know about that, but maybe."

"Nonsense! You're a powerful prophet and I told the representatives so," he said. "I don't know what I would have done if I didn't have your expertise to assist me. It's going to be difficult without you, but Olumia's king will need you more than I do. He'll be so lucky to have you there."

She forced a smile to her face. She was not looking forward to assisting King Alastair nor the royal family. She didn't even know if she'd be chosen. What if this was all for nothing?

"Well, I won't keep you too long," he said, just as the platform started rumbling. The Royal Olumia Express was coming to pick her up. A royal train. Suddenly the weight of what she was doing- what was happening- bore down on her. She's leaving their town, hell she's leaving their sector. She's going to the palace for goodness sake! What was she thinking? 

The palace had security and magic sensors for sure. They were probably more powerful than Greta's Puring Salt could protect. She'd be caught at once. Arrested. Tried. Killed. This was a mistake. 

She turned to Father, a plead pushing at her lips. Take her home. Forget this ever happened. But Father shook his head. 

The train rolled into the station.  It was grand. Navy blue and gold with fancy decor and lettering. It was a longer, bigger, better train than any she's ever seen before. It was royal.