How many minutes have passed since the summit with the elders?
Long enough for the tangled warps of malevolence and disagreement to weave a snare around her mind, threatening to unravel her
thoughts until they would prove the elders right in their prejudice against her.
But she won't give them the satisfaction. Not today.
"Hundreds gather unto us each passing day. These grains would have sustained us only if our bellies were no larger than an ant's," says Simeon, the elder of the village Gejer.
Calmness is a strange puzzle, unfit for his harsh face, aged and mottled with sunspots.
Aaron,
the elder of the village of Naihor, a few years Simeon's senior, grunts in response.
These elders and priests gathered around the table are important figures.
Although they sometimes disagree with the Lord's will as revealed through her,
they are trusted shepherds of their communities, from which most of the rebel soldiers have come.
They have helped her unite fifty thousand believers scattered throughout the camp in Moriah and the surrounding regions.
They lead the few villages where the faith has endured most strongly,
having long since grown disillusioned with the schemes of Leviathan, unlike much of Miraeth.
For years, they practiced their faith in secrecy until the mask fell away when the message of God's chosen prophetess reached them at last,
calling them to the Promised Land.
But the past four years of her life, years she never chose, had driven bitterness into their hearts against her. Truly,
are they so blinded that they cannot see the parallel between her and the believers?
"Doubts are beginning to arise among the believers that you are only leading us astray," Simeon says.
"How can we blame them when the Door you spoke of is nowhere in sight?
Seek it, and let us be done with this pagan land before its curse consumes us all."
Neva looks straight into Simeon's marble-grey eyes as she speaks. "There are still 20,000 believers left to be gathered. And even if one is left
behind of the prophesized believers, we will not be leaving."
Simeon frowns. "That is ridiculous—"
"Finding the Door is finding the believers," Neva cuts him off. And every sheep found is another tread closer to the Door of Life through this darkened maze of wilderness.
"And concerning the food..." Her gaze sweeps over them. "Has the Lord ever let you go to bed hungry while you were here?"
Aaron leans over to interrupt, when Neva says, "Don't be so afraid of the arrival of more believers.
They have no less right over the Lord's provision than you and your people."
Silence falls over the elders, stretching thin between the bustle beyond the meeting tent and the quiet, unyielding feud within.
Jaw clenched, Simeon looks away.
Neva doesn't enjoy disputing with them, but she's only following her Father's command. And in obeying Him will they all grow closer to Him.
Closer to Life and the Door that is Him.
Reuben, elder of the village of Jericho, strokes his long white-grey beard.
"How long, then, until the rest are brought here? We have heard of the signs of war, and the fires consuming half of Miraeth. The Lord has permitted this for a purpose, one we know is for the destruction of this domain."
Reuben's gaze shifts to Rhett. "Are we truly safe until we reach the Promised Land?"
"Rest assured," Rhett says. "My scouts are good at what they do."
Then he leans back, crossing his
arms over his chest while the elders wait for him to continue. He doesn't.
Enoch, elder and Pastor of the village of Madoka, known for his gentle and discerning spirit and one of the few elders
that Neva truly holds in high regard, raises a fist to his mouth and clears his throat.
"We have heard how the Lord worked through you to save children dying from a plague for which there is no cure as yet," says Zebedee,
elder from the village Ephrath. "Is it true?"
"Yes." Neva's fingers curl against her lap, dreading where the conversation might lead.
"I presume your child has been healed," Simeon says. "But may I ask how?
"Was it by God's miracle, or by Leviathan's boon,
purchased with the deaths of hundreds of children for the sake of your own daughter?"
Her throat closes painfully, like nails had been driven down into it. She feels her husband's eyes on her, but keeps her gaze fixed to Simeon, seated across from her.
"Do you believe Elohim can be subdued by Leviathan's thieving deceits?" Elder Enoch asks,
a gentle calmness resting upon his face.
"Men. Women. Children. Hundreds have shed their blood," Simeon's voice trembles at the verge of breaking his feigned calmness. "How many more? Thousands? Must we bury them all before this ends? In this state, we will never leave this place.
I am beginning to think she serves a heathen under the name of our God."
"Blasphemy," declares Micah loudly, the elder of the village of Beersheba, who has remained discerningly silent throughout the meeting.
"How dare you judge our Lord, who speaks through the Prophetess,
for the misery those people brought upon themselves despite His warnings?"
"Can we blame them?" Aaron interjects. "They placed their trust in a pastor they had long known instead of a woman who emerged from nowhere,
bearing a history stained with scandal."
Micah's face hardens into a sneer. "The Lord has finally kept His promise, and you, of all people, dare question the Prophetess He Himself chose to lead us?"
"How are we even still debating this?" Enoch presses two fingers against his brow. "Have you not seen enough signs of the Lord's hand through the Prophetess?
Are you any different from the Israelites who bowed before the golden calf?
Have you forgotten the price they paid?"
"We can see enough signs of the devil as—"
"Leave."
Rhett's voice is unusually steady despite the storm brewing behind his darkened eyes.
Simeon's mouth contorts with fury. "How—"
"No one is keeping you here," Rhett says evenly.
"Go. Be your own god, and choose the prophetess you desire to lead you along the path your own vision has made."
There's a sharp humming in her ears, an irate gyre spiraling through the air within the tent.
Before it could sweep them all into its messy outburst, Enoch says, "The meeting is adjourned. We will reconvene when you have prayed and fasted,
and sought understanding from God."
"We are only human." Simeon lets out a long sigh.
"Can you fault us for doubting,
when it is the Lord we seek to discern and our people who bear the cost?"
"Not when you doubt God," Neva says, her voice low. "If left to fester, it rots you from the inside until one becomes a husk,
tossed in the wind by evil and foolishness."
Simeon's fists clench against the table, knuckles turning white,
and the elders, most of whom had been in agreement with him, have fallen silent.
A quiet smile plays across Sky's lips just as the curtain at the entrance parts.
One of the soldiers on guard steps into the tent. "Sir Issachar requests an audience. He says it cannot wait."
"Let him in," says Rhett.
The chair beneath her lets out a soft scrape against the stone as she stands.
"Thank you for your time, and for your honest counsel.
I sincerely hope our respected elders will join us in prayer and worship this evening."
"We will," Zebedee replies.
Enoch inclines his head and rises just as Sir Issachar enters the tent. Though only in his early thirties, the chief of the scouts is built like a mountain,
broad-shouldered and immovable.
He bows respectfully to the elders as they pass him on their way out.
"I'll go visit the children," Neva says, glancing at her husband.
Rhett nods. "Sure."
"I'll go with you," Sky says, rising with her hands tucked into the pockets of her hoodie.
"Aren't you needed here?" Neva asks.
"Ace will fill her in later," Rhett says.
Ace, his chin propped on one hand, perks up for the first time all meeting. "In what way?"
"Ew." With that, Sky turns and walks off.
As Neva turns away, Rhett's hand catches her wrist, firm yet careful.
She glances back. "What is it?"
His thumb traces the skin beneath her wrist in silence, then he says, "Be safe."
A faint smile touches her lips. She gives a small nod before continuing on her way.