Johnny Wraith Stories

With knees trembling and torn, Gayla descended the spire. Naked, she crept through the temple's shadows and narrow hallways, her tiptoes seeking safety. The echoing voices of chanting priests were missing for the first time, but from behind many doors, the muffled whimpers of her sacred sisters could be heard.

"Caelum, please do not leave us. Take back your holy seat between the milky pillars."

"Lord of the Four Winds, Heaven, and Sky..."

"We beg of thee to keep giving light to the blinking stars and glimmering moons."

Undetected, Gayla escaped to her chamber, sponged off what she could into her washbasin, and poured the filthy water away. As tears streaked over her face, she kept her silence. Not knowing what else to do, she covered her body in sacred garments and crawled into her blankets to hide.

Though it was the season of tilling and planting the rows, a great freeze immediately overtook the land and lasted three days and nights. Rivers became ice, livestock froze in the fields, many men and women died in their beds, and the streets were void of life.

"I think the shit's frozen in my belly!" trembled the Shoemaker to his wife from beneath his blankets.

"Don't talk like that!" shook his wife. "Put another log on the fire before my tits turn blue and fall off!"

"What must we do?" shivered one High Priest to the other. "What must we say?"

"Caelum is angry," said the other as he warmed his hands over the glowing altar fire. "There must be greater tithing. When He is appeased, we will point out the new place He has taken in the sky. Any bright star."

"There will likely be a sparse harvest."

"Those suffering hunger will give more to the temple."

When the freeze ended and the land thawed, aged Claytus buckled up his boots and returned to the fields with his old ox, plow, and new seed.

He stroked the animal's wide head. "I'm glad I didn't lose you to the cold, my loyal friend. By many years you've outlived my wife!" he chuckled. "Let's give this planting another chance."

And so the two went to work. Worn and wrinkled they both were, gray with years, but still having broad shoulders and strong backs.

Claytus sang as he tilled the earth, his plow guided straight and churning it up into rows.

"Caelum,
Lord of the Four Winds, Heaven, and Sky.
Once shining forth from your throne
Between the milky pillars.
You have become the Four Winds
And are among us, down below.
The air we breathe
Always with us.
Thank you for the sacrifice
Of Heaven and Sky.
Praise the firmament's dark places.
Amen."