The Summoner of Chaos

Our third story, a thrilling fantasy piece entitled "The Summoner of Chaos", comes from Brian.  Is Mother Laura the savior of Zare and Alta's village, or its destroyer?  Read on to find out, and see if you can spot her weakness before the protagonists do...

The Summoner of Chaos

            "Mother Laura, what will our village's fortune be?"

            Mother Laura was a nun in a church outside the village for so long that she was now seen as an oracle. She was a sorceress, though nobody knew, because she hid it well. Her home was the now abandoned church that once thrived with people. The question was asked by a man named Zare. He and a woman named Alta were the village officials, and it was their job to meet mother Laura every nine days, according to ancient tradition set by an infamous king and queen. The village was very attached to tradition, so it wasn't an advanced place compared to the other medieval towns in England.

            Laura closed her eyes, sitting in her wooden chair. She whispered a secret hymn that was claimed to let her see the future. After a long moment, a look of grief fell on her face, and she said, "I am sorry, but I see famine and drought. Many will become ill."

            Zare, with an angered look on his face, stared intensely at her, and scolded, "You are wrong. You have to be. There are too many people in the village already who can't care for themselves. How dare you make it this way."

            "It is not my choice to give life and death, neither prosper nor poverty," said Laura, slightly annoyed.

            "It is your fault," Zare fumed, "It will always be your fault. You will always be responsible for-"

            He was interrupted by Alta, who warned him, "Calm down, Zare. Accept the fact that it is impossible to change our futures."

            "You better listen to her," said Laura, her face turning slightly red, but keeping calm. "If you don't stop, I will make it much worse. Will you accept it?"

            "Never," Zare announced dutifully, "I can't give up on my people."

            He looked around the room and started to walk around. Laura was cautious of his every move as she curiously watched him.

            "You know, Laura, I never liked you. It makes me suspicious that you are able to make those predictions. Are you hiding something? Is something going to make you very wealthy soon? You know you have to present it. If you don't, you're breaking the village rules."

            Alta opened her mouth to say something, but saw the look in Zare's eye that made her know he wasn't about to stop, so she stood there helplessly, listening to him.

            Zare thought for a moment, deciding how to blackmail her into changing. Then he walked up to a portrait of Laura and said," You know, Laura,  I've noticed that you seem to take a liking to this painting. It seems very high quality. How much did it cost?"

            "Nothing," Laura said, "I made it myself."

            " Well, it would be a shame for all this hard work to go to waste."

            Zare ripped the painting off the wall and was about to smash the delicate canvas on the hard stone floor, but Laura cried out in exasperation, "Please, I'm begging you. Any painting but that one. If you rip that painting, you will rue the day you crossed me. Understand?"

            The official lifted the painting as if to throw it down, but Laura couldn't take it any longer. She started levitating in her chair high above the officials as they stood in shock, and she screamed, "All right. I shall make it my fault. You better run before I destroy you!"

            Alta grabbed Zare's arm and pulled him away, and they ran to the village, where they saw the full extent of the damage.

            It rained, thunder crashed, and people panicked. Mothers grabbed crying babies and ran them into huts of mud and brick. Farmers and field hands tried to calm terrified cattle and fight off hordes of locusts that would demolish the crop. Some people ran inside, while others ran screaming in the streets. "This is pure chaos," thought Alta.

. . .

            "You have to help us," yelled one villager in despair. Zare and Alta had called a town meeting inside the biggest, safest building they could find. It was a granite two story hall with a raised platform resembling a stage at the end that Zare and Alta were standing on. As the rain pounded, they were trying to calm the large groups of terrified people.

            "Everyone try to stay orderly and composed. We don't want a mob," said Alta in the most orderly and composed voice she could speak. "We all agree on one thing. We have to stop this."

            She leaned over to Zare and whispered, "To stop this, people need to know the cause. You have to admit that this is your fault."

            "Are you crazy? They'll kill me." Zare exclaimed.

            "Just do it," Alta said, pushing him to the front.

            Zare stumbled to the front, coughed in complete silence, and said, embarrassed, "I have to tell you all something." He sighed, building up his courage. "...I am the reason that this started. I made Mother Laura angry and she placed a curse on us."

            There was a gasp, and a barrage of yelling and excited whispers started in the crowd.

            "I threatened to destroy one of her portraits, and I expected her to be angry, but she seems to be obsessed with the painting. It seems that she has no power without it."

            A man named Antor ran up to the platform and yelled, "I have an idea." The whole crowd's noise ebbed, then ended. "Our oracle is obviously too strong to be defeated by force. We have to outsmart her, and being the village riddler, I will volunteer to help fight her."

            A cheer roared from the crowd, and the village officials and Antor ran to get spears and swords, just in case. They fought through the weather and burst open the door to the church, where Laura sat in her chair hands in her lap, legs crossed.

            "I was expecting you, and I am ready to fight. But be warned, my children, I cannot be stopped."

            I cannot be stopped. The wicked words rang in Alta's head, and she didn't miss the edge that made it seem like she enjoyed saying that.

            Laura stood up out of her chair and the whole church went dark for a moment. By the time the torches lit back up, she had multiplied into fifty people. As they stampeded towards them, Laura's voice boomed through the church, saying, "Only one of these people are real, and you'll have to figure it out, but things are not always what they seem."

            They all started to fight and defeat the copies, but it was going nowhere. They had defeated all of them and the room was empty, but Laura's evil laugh persisted.

            "What is going on?" Zare asked in dismay.

            Antor hurriedly glanced around the room, and he saw the large painting and saw its good condition. This must be her prize jewel. Nothing is more valuable to her than this, He thought to himself. If it's in such good condition, Laura is missing, and she is a sorceress, I wonder...

            He found himself running before he even thought about it, his spear out, held under his arm like a jouster with a lance, and he braced himself for impact with the wall behind the painting. The painting ripped in two, the spear snapped violently against the wall, and the booming voice was now screaming in pain. The painting disintegrated into dust.

            Exactly what I thought, Antor told himself. You couldn't hide from us for long, Laura.

            There was no rain pounding on the town any longer, and the wind stopped howling. "Antor," Zare said, "thanks for going through all this trouble to save the village for my mistake. I'll never do that again."

            "No problem," Antor said. "Now let's go. I want to get away from this musty old church."

            They walked back to the village and celebrated with a banquet. There were cheers and toasts, and even those injured by the storm got to join. People sang and danced, and it almost seemed like the storm never happened. Though there was damage to many of the buildings, now was a time for joy.

            Since Laura was gone, her prediction seemed to disappear, too. Corn stalks almost radiated bright green and yellow light. Apple trees crowded with crunchy, juicy apples. Children laughed instead of crying, cattle grazed and ambled across the field without a care, and the sun shined bright.

            The creaky church sat on a small hill, alone now, until the villagers found a use for it. It would probably be used for storage or a war base, but for now, the village didn't have a care.