One Chance...

[Peter Levy]

Laila stared up at the moon. It was wide, but a day or two short of full. She felt her breath quicken, and scurried frantically to her shrines. She knelt before four small mounds of earth, each holding a candle: one red, one green, one blue and one brown.

"We hear the Dolon's cry. Its howl is our dread, and only - "
The desert wind drowns out her words from nearby ears.
" - save us. Hear now, my words:

This is the Water, and this is the Well. Drink full and Descend.
This is the Fire, and this is the Flame. Burn full and Descend.
This is the Breeze, and this is the Breath. Breathe full and Descend.
This is the Rock, and this is the Rampart. Build full and Descend."

"Ascend!"
Came the cry from the small huddle that had formed around Laila.
"The power must A-scend."

"No, no. We were clearly told, our prayer must reach the Jewel. It must descend."
"To the Heavens! It must rise to the Heavens to be heard. The Jewel is dead."

The argument continued as the last of the daylight vanished. There was a howl on the breeze, and the tribe were tired. They swiftly made their way to their camp, and rested for the night. They did not rest well.