Young Writers Society

Fasha scrutinized the two prophets at his sides. On his left was Darsa the Merciful; at his right Kha the Wise. In front of him was the most difficult prophetess to compromise with, Ja of the Holy Triangle. The room they were in was spacious with a ceiling doubly higher than usual, and such could also be said by the back of their chairs, fitting for kings and queens. Well, their nearby kingdom practiced the monarchy concept; here in Four Seasons, they, the four prophets, ruled.

The meeting had been happening with agreement failed to reach. Fasha and Darsa had argued together that it was time for the kingdom to select an official religion. Ja was baffled by this; she claimed Holy Triangle had been the religion that had benefited them all for hundreds of years. Fasha believed Earth was the best deity to worship. On it they lived, after all. Kha rebuked that without Moon, the people would suffer from endless day and die slowly.

‘And what if there are no Sun?’ asked Darsa. The frown she wore was of worry. ‘Eternal darkness for humanity? How could the plants resume their growth without the aid of Her light? Farmers will lose their jobs!’ She held out her hands as if presenting them a tangible problem, and her loose white gown showed their paleness. Her face was covered with a white scarf as part of the belief that Sun discouraged the show of bare skin.

Ja nodded slowly. ‘It seems to me that we need not just one deity, but all of them. Sun to provide heat and light; Moon to provide coolness and rest; Earth to provide shelter.’ She spoke with the voice of a young woman, and indeed, she was the youngest prophet among the four of them.

Hearing him, Fasha widened his eyes. ‘You spoke as if Earth are inferior than the other two! Not only shelter It brings to us, but also water and air! Plants and animals as foods!’ He shook his head, giving Ja a look of both pity and mockery. ‘Your young age is quite the reason for your narrow mind, I understand.’

Ja flashed him a look of anger. The prophetess was more revealing that Darsa; indeed, her emerald gown lacked sleeves and showed the curve of her breasts. Her hazel skin proved her determination to get as close as she could get to nature. Fasha respected her intention, just not the way she conveyed it.

‘Earth is soil and sand, nothing more, nothing less. You do not claim you live on It when the only element surrounding you is water,’ said Ja. Her mouth curled into a mocking smile. ‘Perhaps for such people, Water is the better deity for them to serve. However, this is all irrelevant details. We cannot live without Sun and Moon and Earth. Therefore, we should worship them all.’

‘Earth holds water,’ hissed Fasha. Why could the prophetess not see the simple fact? His attention was shifted to Kha and Darsa. ‘If we want light, we make fire; Sun is unneeded. Without it, we achieve night. Moon is just a light source with importance as equal as fire. We’ – a knock on the table – ‘do not need’ – another knock – ‘Sun and Moon.’

The others scowled at him. An askance look was his reply to them. They did not see the world as he did. Earth deserved undivided attention. It surrendered Its existence to be a place for them to live on. It sacrificed so much, much more than the other deities did. It spoke to Fasha; Its whispers told him It was neglected in a capacity beyond necessary. And tese prophets wanted to worship Sun and Moon that were distant to them. Her heat and light were nothing to Its shelter and food, water and air. His pale light and darkness were weak excuses against Its fire and depth.

Silia and Darsa he could remove, but Ja? That prophetess worshipped Earth too, but she also revered the deplorable others. Well, Fasha thought, one person at a time.