A dream I had back in February. My patrons read this awhile back. Let me know what you think! :)

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Prophet

They take his name at dusk and leave him in an open cell beneath the roar of water. He shivers through the night, wet seeping into his brown feathers. In the morning the priests will feed him to the thundering god.

In the wet darkness of his cell, he weeps for his lost family. He’ll never see his bright plumed daughters in the courting dance, groom his wife’s iridescent crest with beak and claw. When they chose him as sacrifice he heard her ululating cries all through the night. Still he feels them in his bones. She will never take another mate, celibate in grief, a holy female for the gods now.

Under the sound of falling water, he hisses softly through sharp teeth and makes a promise to himself.

At dawn, the holy ones with their spears come for him. He walks unchained between them, feathers too sodden to fly, talons clicking on stone worn smooth by thousands of feet. The water roars louder as the light at the end of the dim tunnel brightens.

Suddenly he stands alone in the light. Behind, the holy ones block his way with their spears. Above, archers ring the lip of the bowl at which he stands in the bottom. Behind them stands the people of the city, brilliant plumed females and dune colored males, silent and wide-eyed. He could have been any of them.

And all around, blotting out every other noise except the pounding of his heart, is the roar of the god.

Head high, he walks to the edge. White water cascades into jagged darkness, rainbows dancing in the cold spray. If he does not jump into the god’s mouth of his own volition, an archer will put an arrow through his heart. He will not let it end thus. He has a new-made promise to keep and he is determined, though he wonders how many others have sworn the same.

Taking a deep breath and crossing his feathered arms over his chest, he looks to the crowd one last time. His eyes catch the gaze of his beloved and he tries to express in one look all the years of love he cannot give her. Arms crossed, he leaps forward and falls into deafening sound, the god’s spit whipping at his face.

If he lives, he swears he will rise up and kill every god.