The Prophecy of Dreams

Chapter Five

AS I MAKE the connection, the goblet slips from my grasp and crashes to the ground. The raven's piercing cry suddenly echos.

Circe, ever vigilant, catches my eye from across the square. Her expression's taut with concern, mirroring the unease that twists in my gut.

"What's wrong?" She mouths.

The breeze, once a gentle caress, morphs into something sharper. All at once, almost as if the world waited until I saw the raven, the wind shifts directions. A newfound chill cuts through my sweat-drenched dress.

Goosebumps prick my skin as I turn towards the source of the wind, somewhere beyond the coastline. 

A dark cloud begins to rise from behind the horizon, and just as quickly, swallows up the sun.

I don't respond; I don't need to. The rapidly darkening sky says it all - inevitable and nearing quickly.

The instruments and singing stop, the villagers beginning to murmur in alarm. My heart pounds in my chest as from the blackened clouds above, a bolt of lightning strikes, a celestial javelin hurtling towards the ocean's surface. 

The ocean reacts in a rage of violence, an explosion of water and steam. Each forked tendril pulsates with an ethereal brilliance, casting an iridescent glow before disappearing, plunging the village into even deeper darkness as the last of the sun's light is eaten.

For a moment, everything seems frozen in time. 

It takes me a fraction of a second too late to remember what follows lightning.

"Get down!" I barely have time to scream the words and cover my ears before the first crack of thunder splits the air.

This is what Aunt Elora is afraid of.

Only a handful of people manage to get on the ground, escaping the deafening roar that explodes from the heavens, drowning out all other sound.

Buildings tremble and windows shatter as the sheer power of the sound wave sweeps through, and I'm blown back in the air, thrown against the stand behind me.

A sickening thud sounds, and my head aches from the impact. Whatever is bleeding quickly starts a damp feeling in my hair towards the back of my skull. My ears ring a pitch so high my teeth clench. It is a challenge in itself for me to even lift my head into the wind, every muscle protests as I push myself up with trembling arms.

The ground beneath me quakes with rumbling booms. The air has taken on a charged electric energy, the smell of ozone and burning wood filling my nostrils. Hysteria spreads through the crowd like wildfire, the festive atmosphere shattered as chaos takes over. The growing wind whips through the square, sending banners flying, tables flipping and debris everywhere. Trees bow before the tempest's fury, their branches thrashing wildly in the howling wind.

In the midst of the lightening strike, Jovanna has been lost in the scramble, her hand reaching out amidst the sea of bodies. Panic claws at my throat as I catch glimpses of her red hair disappearing into the frenzy. 

The hairs on my arms stand alert at at once again, and time seems to slow as another jagged bolt splits the sky, striking the top of the church with a ferocity that sends tremors through the ground. The impact is an explosion that sends shards of stone and wood hurtling through the air.

The deafening roar of destruction echoes in my ears, drowning out my panicked breaths.

I frantically cover my face with my arms as a barrage of shattered debris, some of it searing hot, pelts down upon me. My skin stings and sizzles as molten fragments land and melt into it, leaving blistered trails in their wake.