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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2268956-Last-Gasp
by brom21
Rated: ASR · Short Story · Fantasy · #2268956
A city disregards the warning of a wise druid of a coming storm. What will convince them?
Merdoth the druid master stood atop the hill of Aderath gazing at the darkening skies of the realm of Ephria. Storms had been getting worse every month. And the old ways of the druid were fading. Merdoth looked down at the city of Tarken on the outskirts of the city and looked at all the ignorant people who scorned him. But mark his words, the storm to end all storms was coming.

He walked the trial down the hill into town. As he entered, some people glared at him. But, for all their incontinence, he deeply loved them all.

A young man in a long tunic, ran up to him. “Hello, druid Merdoth,” he said.

“Greetings, Gaius. How are you?”

“I am fair. What is the latest thing you have to impart today?”

Merdoth smiled. “You are one of the few who still cling to me. But my latest insight is no more pleasant than I have been saying. Within two days, it will happen.”

Gaius frowned. “What shall we do?”

“In my mediations I have witnessed the presence of a powerful entity. My sense of this being is slight but I will try to contact it.”

Gaius tilted his head. “How will this happen?”

“I can only be blunt. I will find a way to call upon the being. I sense it has great power, enough to save us.”

“Gaius, stop talking to that fool!” said a tall, brown-haired man. “Why do you fill my son with empty, dreamer’s words?”

“There was a day when my kind was revered. Yet, my knowledge is still true to this day, regardless.”

“Bah! Your superstitions are a flaw in modern day. You are the last of your order.”

“The final destructive tempest will devastate the land within two days. You will not be so haughty when it comes.”

The man speaking to Merdoth grabbed his son by the arm and left.

Merdoth walked outside the city gates and entered his hut. He sat before his small hearth and sighed heavily. “What will I do?”

The thick clouds began to pour rain torrentially. Merdoth peeked out his hut and saw people running for cover and bringing their cattle and sheep inside timber alcoves.

The fools! What more proof did they need! Merdoth shook his head and went back inside his hut. Loud thunder resonated throughout the city.

A bright blue flash strobed outside his small window.

Next, there was a splitting sound of wood and accompanied by a simultaneous crack of thunder and lightning.

Merdoth looked outside and saw on the hill, the sacred and ageless oak tree separate in two and fall to the ground, alight with fire. Merdoth widened his eyes in horror and gasped. “The Tree of Forever!”

Merdoth ran a palm down his face and dashed inside his hut, weeping. Could this be a sign? Was this the way nature was condemning his ancient and sagely ways? He shook his head and fell on his pellet bed covered with sheep skin and sought refuge through sleep, despite the sound of great raindrops and thunder.

Soon the rain ceased, and sun broke through the dark clouds. A rainbow appeared in the west.

Merdoth’s attempt to sleep failed and he emerged from his hut. He took in the moist, fresh air.

People crept from their houses and looked at the sky with smiles. Regardless of the destructive storm, the after affect was pleasant. Merdoth went inside the gate and saw the city magistrate speak to a crowd of people.

Merdoth neared them.

“Magistrate, what will we do if these storms increase? The old oak tree was destroyed. The next thing could be a house.”

Merdoth made glary eye contact with the magistrate who stood several yards away. “Do not think this legitimizes your warped idea, fiend.”

Everyone in the crowd looked upon Merdoth who stood silent.

“What do say in defense of yourself, druid?” asked a woman.

“My words are unchanged. Within two days, this kingdom will be obliterated,” he said as he folded his arms.

The magistrate scowled. “Forget him,” he said as he waved away the matter and addressed the question. “I suggest we make an underground shelter. Furthermore…”

Merdoth, walked away and ascended the hill to look at the old oak torn in two. He kneeled and smelled the ash left on the fallen tree. He rubbed the ash between his fingers. He walked away and sat to meditate.

He cleared his mind and let all his surroundings pass away. He was surrounded by a great light in the form of a man.

Merdoth was terrified and fell on his face before the being. “Are you the great mysterious force I have sensed?” he said with a tremble.

“I am His servant. Deliver the people a message; submit to the God who created all things and His Son and tell them He will save them.”

“But the people do not believe me.”

“The Spirit of the only God will touch the hearts with a power more than words can achieve. Some will reject Him. Do as I have said.” Then Merdoth came to. He wasted no time and stood on the hill and yelled with an exceedingly loud voice not his own and spoke the message of the God’s servant.

“I believe in your words, great one,” said a man in a burlap robe.

“As do I,” said another.

“And I,” yet another spoke.

Those who believed bowed on their knee. Some reviled Merdoth’s message with curses and ill looks.

Suddenly, one by one, people began to disappear.

Merdoth gasped as the phenomenon continued until only Merdoth was left. The people gasped and looked with fear-glossed eyes. Yet none spoke obeisance to God.

How could they be so…stupid not to believe!” Merdoth thought. But inside, he knew it was a deeper, spiritual matter that blinded them. Tomorrow, they would all be killed by a fierce tempest.

Merdoth shook his head and made one last gasp and disappeared.









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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2268956-Last-Gasp