Nine of Swords (2)

Seon stood frozen in disbelief.

Well, who wouldn't?

Thinking just a while ago, these men had once cowered before her.

Like a rats, yes... like a rats...

But now, all gathered around Yunnie, murmuring words of comfort and casting wary, almost hostile glances in her direction.

"Really? Do I look like some deranged maniac?"

Sure, maybe she'd threatened them a bit, tossed in a few insults, even roughed them up—age be damned— maybe she is cruel.

But she wasn't heartless. Not entirely. At least, not without a reason.

Maybe... just maybe...

Her original goal had been simple enough:

Ask about the arcana and get out.

But now, watching their tense stances and wary eyes, she felt an unexpected urge to escape the stifling atmosphere. It was definitely not something she is pleased on experiencing.

Rising abruptly, she scraped her chair back as she stood up.

Just as her fingers brushed the handle, a desperate chorus shouted,

"WAIT!"

In an instant, the white-robed men threw themselves at her, clutching at her waist and arms with surprising strength.

Even Ortos, the frail elder who looked one step away from his grave, latched onto her, his hands grasping her waist as if he gambled his whole life over this.

"You can't leave! You'll harm the civilians!"

"Please have mercy! There are mothers and children out there!"

Seon's eye twitched in annoyance.

"What on earth is wrong with you people? I'm just trying to leave!"

But they wouldn't let go.

Their arms wrapped around her like chains.

Every step she attempted to take was met with resistance as they clung to her, refusing to release their hold.

"No! Who knows what you will do outside?"

"Yeah right, you're not going anywhere!"

"Get off me."

Her words fell on deaf ears. The more she struggled to move, the tighter their grip became, until she was practically pinned to the floor by their sheer weight.

For someone who had faced death and destruction in countless lifetimes, being held hostage by a bunch of trembling, terrified men was beyond ridiculous.

"UGHH Once I get out of here, I will kill you all!"

Yet despite her threats, these people won't leave her.

Just as Seon was about to force them off, a door creaked open;

A young girl stood in the doorway, looking like a smaller version of Seon herself, with short white hair and wide silver eyes.

She wore simple, worn clothing and clutched a small pouch in her trembling hands.

"S-sister?"

"Flour'e," a man's voice cut in from behind her appearing at the age of forty, urging the girl forward to change her tone. "Address her as the Prophet."

Flour'e? But the way they say it sounds like 'Flour'.

First is Wheat, then next is Flour, should Seon guess next- probably it would be 'Cornstarch?'

Forget the unnecessary thoughts.

Seon's brows arched upon seeing the strangers "And who are these shi—" She didn't even get to finish her question, as the men around her clamped a hand over her mouth, effectively silencing her.

Well, it was indeed a very awkward situation;

After all...

For the people of this village, the Prophet symbolizes something 'divine', something almost a part of a 'God'. 

Priests and bishops are currently pinning this so-called 'divine figure'.

Forgetting the 'Logic', The man decided to overlook the situation and instead gave a respectful nod.

"Apologies, Prophet. My child is… not fully aware of the situation. Please forgive her manners."

Seon didn't respond instead her eyes remained on the young girl's face.

'So, this must be the family of this body,' she thought. 'No wonder her name is FLOUR'

Well, at least it sounds better with e on the end, Flour'e. Compared to Wheat, Flour'e is definitely better.

Whoever named this body 'Wheat', deserved some beating.

After a few moments of silence, the man gently urged his daughter to leave, but the girl refused to do so as she shook her head.

The child took a few hesitant steps toward Seon and with trembling hands, held out the small pouch.

"I know… Sister won't come back. But even if… it's another soul… you're still my sister" The girl whispered before turning and darting out of the room in hurry.

"...???"

The men around Seon released her one by one, looking away in quiet embarrassment.

It was supposed to be a heartwarming situation... but hey! It was the prophet they were talking about here. The scene is more like... well... uncomfortable?

All of them didn't know what to say as several coughs echoed inside the room.

"Ehem... looks like the moon is rising soon"

"Y-yeah right, I'm getting sleepy as well."

"Oh, I miss my wife and children..."

Seon lowered herself to the ground, eyeing the pouch.

It was filled with small marbles and rocks. 

Seon is the type of person who prefers being gifted with swords and blades. And certainly, to be gifted as stones is something like a mock to her. But...

She allowed a small smile to tug at her lips this time.

"Kids these days… really have no manners."

But before she forgot, she immediately wiped the smile on her lips, turning her back towards the white robbed men.

"You guys didn't forget what I just said right?"

One by one, each one of them started to sweat.

"M-madam prophet?"

"C-can we talk this out..."

No one knows what happened last morning and why there were blood stains in Seon's room.

*****

Seon who remains asleep, a wave of warmth steadily enveloping her body.

The heat was growing unbearable, almost as if it were pressing down on her.

She blinked her eyes open, feeling groggy and disoriented.

"Ugh… is it morning already?" she mumbled grumpily while rubbing her eyes.

Among those lines, she must probably thought- 'It's seriously inconvenient without air conditioner'

Seon who was half awake managed to drag herself to the window and tugged the curtains open—

She expected something like the sun rising, and hear the chatters of the villagers.

But her whole body froze.

The world outside was on fire.

Flames licked the air, devouring every building in sight, it stained the darkened sky with shades of red and orange.

Thick, black smoke spiraled upward, choking the sky, and blotting out the stars.

Her eyes widened as she watched everything.

"T-this…"

'What the hell happened in a short time?'

'This is all too sudden... what happened to the villagers?'

Without much thinking, Seon bolted out of the room, barely registering the scorching heat beneath her bare feet or the thin fabric of her pajamas.

Her eyes darted around wildly, searching for any sign of life among the burning village.

The ground was littered with bodies, faces frozen in terror, surrounded by embers that sparked and danced in the hot air.

Smoke curled through the scene, swallowing the entire village.

And then she saw her.

In the center of the carnage laid a young child lifeless with the same white hair, her small, trembling hands clutching a familiar pouch filled with marbles and stones—the same one Seon had been given only yesterday.

Seon felt her throat close up, words refusing to come.

She tried to step forward, but her legs felt like lead, as though her body, too, was resisting to take a step forward.