Tremmilly settled into the cramped seat as the ancient passenger ship powered up its engines. “What are we doing Beo?” she asked, scratching behind the wolf-dog's ears. The familiarity of the action calmed her, helping mitigate the stressful situation. “We are going on an adventure because of a prophecy made by a religion we don’t even believe in.” She smiled at the wolf-dog, and he pulled back his lips in a friendly snarl. Tremmilly loved how happy it made him look. “But we'll get to see new places. I'm excited for that.” She paused for a moment, feeling apprehensive. “I suppose we'll be meeting a lot of new people too.” She'd lived in the same small village for her 21 years. New people were intimidating.
“It's a good thing we know how to take care of ourselves,” she continued. “Psidonnis did a good job teaching that. I'm so grateful he was there for us after Momma and Papa died.” She could only recall small wisps of her parents, but the recollection of their deaths was vivid. Fifteen years had passed, but she could still remember the way the plague had twisted their bodies and made them almost unrecognizable. Death, for them at least, had been a blessing. Psidonnis had cared for her since, had raised her like she was his own. She loved and missed him, but not nearly as much as her parents.
Tremmilly's mind was a jumble of thoughts and emotions.
She’d been studying the prophecy ever since she’d heard it, had memorized every word. Unfortunately, even though she knew them so well, the meaning still escaped her. The talk with the Dygar council had been—unsatisfying. They hadn't answered enough of her questions. Tremmilly didn't know if that was due to ignorance or if they were concealing something.
A few parts of the prophecy were very prominent. The bit about: “The first be of a light most bright, spirit most pure. Her life touched by death before cognition, her desire only for peace,”
actually made sense. Both Psidonnis and the council said the prophecy was referring to her, but she wasn't convinced. Tremmilly definitely desired peace and her life was touched by death, but she wasn't pure or bright. She would need to be on the lookout for someone who better fit the requirements.
“But to you who would stay in comfort and safety, not yielding to the instruction of this prophecy: Blightheart shall establish itself on your head and the worlds will be sundered by the Breakers.”
Now that part was clear and scary. And while it hadn't been the reason she’d left Eishon-2, she couldn't deny it played a part in the decision.
The rickety vessel began shuddering, groaning as it lifted off the ground. Tremmilly hardly noticed, despite it being her first time in a spacecraft. The prophecy consumed all her attention.
“I don't even believe in the Dygar faith, or any gods for that matter,” she told Beowulf. Somehow she knew the prophecy was true though, its connection to the religious order irrelevant. Maybe it’s
my
trust in Psidonnis.
Perhaps there was a higher power in the universe that had chosen to use her. Maybe it was just the first real reason to leave Eishon-2 and she was using the prophecy as motivation. It could be all of these things,
she thought, feeling overwhelmed. Tremmilly didn't know. What she did understand, despite her initial skepticism, was that the prophecy felt true. Something bad was coming,
and she had an obligation to fight it.
Beowulf growled softly and let out a few muffled whimpers, his commentary on the situation. His head was firmly in her lap, eyes closed, but still awake. The rest of his body lay crunched into the seats beside her. She had never thought Beowulf was large, but when placed in this confined environment, he was massive.
“I won't take him,” the ship’s commander had snapped when she was trying to book passage. “He's a threat to the other passengers. Besides, he's too big. There is no way you'll get him into a single seat.”
“I can't leave him behind,” she protested. “I don't have many Ashcreds, but I can pay for the extra space.” She was angry the seedy man was extorting her.
“That won't make him any less vicious. He looks like he could tear my arm off. If he hurts one of the passengers, I'll be liable. They'll take my ship and every Ashcred I have.”
“You obviously don't have many fares, and I'm offering to purchase three seats. If you don't take me, you'll lose a lot of credits.” Tremmilly was beginning to feel desperate, stuck between leaving Beowulf and not following the prophecy’s mandate. For a moment, she considered bribing the commander, but she knew her savings wouldn’t last long if she spent any more than she absolutely had to.
“Fine,” he said finally, turning away. “But if that dog barks, bites, or blighthearts on the buggered floor, you're the one to deal with it. I take no responsibility.”
Hail Terra
, she thought, the ship now moving through the planet’s upper atmosphere. If he hadn't changed his mind, I would still be on Eishon and who knows what the consequences would be.
Tremmilly felt the turbulence fade as the rickety ship passed into space.
“Look at all those stars, Beo,” she said, gazing out the small window. The points of light were far more numerous than
anything she'd witnessed back on Eishon-2.
“Hopefully we'll know what to do once we get to Noor-5,” Tremmilly continued, turning her attention back to Beowulf. “Psidonnis said it’s located on one of the major shipping lanes. Guess that means there will be a lot of people.” That spiked her anxiety, but she took a deep breath and fortified her resolve. No turning back now.
“It would be nice if we could find the answers on Noor-5, but if not, we'll have to keep going. That means another transport. And that means negotiating for passage with another commander.” Her resolve to pursue the prophecy was strong, but she knew her love for Beowulf would override any conflicting desire. I could never leave him,
she thought, even if it means sacrificing the entire Akked Galaxy.