Thunder rolled from distant horizons. The sound drifted down to the sleeping city, echoes of some far off fury. None thought upon it, none gave any consideration to its consequences. To the population of the city, teetering upon a million, it was nothing but a solitary storm, rending remote skies in two. They did not fear, and perhaps even if they had understood the full consequence of the massing black clouds, they would still have held brave. For their city, the great Wilusa, famed across the known world, was under divine protection. Surely there was no force upon the mortal plain that could counter the might of a Goddess? What had they to fear but doubt?

Jenai awoke to bright skies. Golden streams rushed through the open shutters of her lavishly painted home. Voices clamoured outside, addressing her not by her name, but instead her responsibility. For she was Jenai second and Elight Priestess first. She had accepted her honours with grace, she had accepted the burden they placed upon her, the suppression of her enjoyments and pleasures. The child of the Goddess could not dwell upon their mortal qualms, only the requirements of the reposing divinity. Dawn had long since broken amber, casting streaks of pale pink onto shades of blue and grey. The sun now lifted above the pointed and painted rooftops of Wilusa's inner suburban landscape. The slums still cast clouds of darkness around the perimeter of Wilusa's burnished centre, but Jenai had accepted them with necessary, and restrained, distaste. Wilusa demanded workers, a large population, with a voracious hunger. If those stumbling, barbaric fools must live in the divine city, then let them exist beyond its inner walls of marble, outside the views of ordinary and civilised folk. It was only the Elight Priestess and a handful of other unfortunate souls who were forced to gaze down upon the sprawling mess of ramshackle huts and teetering wooden homes. For they resided with the Regal Temple, towering up above any other building, high over the inner walls, with a view for hundreds of miles of rolling hills and tree-dressed valleys. To see the beauty of the natural landscape surrounding Wilusa, she also had to tolerate a view of the slums, but she could look past them. As long as the soot stained fog wasn't so cloying that day.

"Elight Priestess," murmured a servant at the door, their clothing jet black in its entirety, "The children of the Goddess require guidance."

They always did. Without her and the fragmented whispers of the Goddess to her mind, the entire city's society would cave in upon itself.

"Has the Goddess given speech through me, my child?" asked Jenai, stepping from her bed and standing with imperious posture.

"It has been three days since she has taken possession of your body and speech, Elight Priestess."

Jenai maintained her grand facade, her irritation suffocated by the tight grasp of divine purpose. It was not unusual to spend so much time without the Goddess taking hold of her body and mind. When such an episode occurred, the servants of the Elight Priestess that filled the temple would rush to copy out all she recited. Her words would be prophetical, enigmatic advice to be interpreted with countless subtle meanings. Studies on the sleeping Goddess had informed them that even the divine had wayward dreams, and the length of her rest confused her thoughts and view to the future. It was for this reason, the Goddess spoke in such a confused sense. Once she was awoken, the Goddess would speak in perfectly intelligble sentences, requiring no intepreting, spelling out the great future of Wilusa in terms even the impoverished barbarians could understand. But that time had not arrived yet, the Goddess needed further sleep, further recovery. Jenai could only pray to the cruel threads of fate that it was in her time as priestess the Goddess would be awoken. It would be the crowning honour on her already illustrious career. Drawing herself back to the present, the Elight Priestess focused on the servant and dismissed him with a casual flick of her tattoed hands.

"You may go, my child. Though the Goddess has given us no more advice in these last few days, I am always in understanding of her wishes. Especially those concerning the people of our city."

The servant bowed low to her words in utter reverance and fled the room gratefully. Once the paper and wood doors to her chambers were closed, Jenai stepped in front of the mirror and composed herself. Her hair was unruly and troublesome, flowing locks of black, shaded brown at the ends. No matter how harshly she pulled it into place, with comb or the newest oils imported in from the newly discovered Meimur cities, it always rushed free. No matter, the Goddess did not require perfection, only devotion. Jenai searched the room and moved to her wardrobe, carved with depicitons of the Goddess, surrounded by centuries worth of Elight Priestess'. She threw open the dark doors and picked through the robes hanging within. There were no limitations placed upon the dress of the Elight Priestess. They wore what they saw fit, with the guidance of the Goddess. In the past, priestess' had worn everything from chainmail armour to nothing at all. Jenai was not so bold. She settled for a combination of royal robes, adopted by those living in the eastern inner circle of Wilusa, or formal suits as adopted by the western inner circle of Wilusa. Wearing the fashion of the two distinct social sects of the city allowed her to distinguish herself from both, and simultaneously unify them both. She was above them, the most powerful and most honoured woman in Wilusa, but she also served them all however the Goddess wished. That day she drew out a robe of crimson, streaked with hues of purple and amber, like the sunset on stormy skies. Perhaps it was those colours that drew her attention to the gentle noise rocking the Regal Temple on occasion. The distant thunderstorm was scarcely audible but, with the windows open, and concentration focused towards that black horizon, she could make it out. Dressing herself swiftly, Jenai strode to the window and looked out, over the baying crowds far below, the spiralling, tiled rooftops of red and blue and the slim stone chimneys. Someone in the crowd must have caught sight of her, though she did not lean out of the window, for the noise roared up in ecstatic greeting. Unfortunately, that also drowned out the sound of the distant storm. However, even from so far away, Jenai could make out the streaks of grey and the pillars of cloud clustered where the hills met the skies. The occasional streak of white and gold warned her of lightning. It was unusual for a thunderstorm to persist past dawn, especially when the weather had been frigid for the recent weeks. But oddities were bound to occur, nature was nothing if not changeable. Jenai paid note to the unusual event and then put it out of her mind. She had far more pressing matters to attend to them trivial storms.

Having descended from her personal chambers, at least as personal as anything was for a priestess, Jenai stepped out onto a balcony of wrought iron. The bars and railings making up the balcony were shaped into metal roses, immaculate petals crafted and painted so they gave off a startling resemblance to the living flowers. The balcony was low enough the people below could hear her, and see her, clearly. However it was not so close they would ever be able to reach her and defile her sacred body with their touch. No one but the Goddess herself would ever be allowed to put hands on Jenai's body, and it had been so from the moment she swore herself as Elight Priestess.

"My children," greeted Jenai with a florid gesture, encompassing them all with the sweep of her hands, "You come for guidance."

There was a brief cacophany of sound and then, all at once, it died to eerie silence as they stared up at her expectantly. Jenai felt no fear at the weight of responsibility, of assumption, they laid upon her. She had long since conquered such feelings. The Goddess had no patience for faltering weakness.

"I may give it. Our Goddess loves you all," Jenai smiled, like the first pools of gold at dawn, the last streaks of colour at sunset, "You bathe in her radaince and her benevolence. Keep vigil in your prayers, keep strong in your empathy but keep mastery of your emotions. Whatever concerns may press upon you, trust in the Goddess to judge them and resolve them as you deserve."

Jenai was aware the words were vague, but they were intentionally so. If the Goddess had not seen fit to grant her direct guidance by uttering prophecies from her mouth, then her demands would be those she had engraved into Jenai for so long. The devotion to her must continue, the faith of the people must not wane. They must be prepared and devout for her return.

"If you have been gifted time in my presence today, proceed into the Regal Temple," ordered Jenai, her smile never failing, "If you have come for nothing but these words then know the Goddess shall reward your good grace. And never fear, we all live in her light and her protection."

With that she gave them a subtle nod and allowed the exultant cheers of support to shower her in their iridescent praise. She could think nothing of it, however. They felt an obligation to thank her, but she could not give in to the temptations of greed and vanity. The praise was not for her, it was for the Goddess and it was far less than their divinity deserved. So, once they had quieted and dispersed, Jenai turned back into the Regal Temple to continue her duties. She did not think on the thunderstorm again, she did not wonder why it had remained static for so long, why it did not shift, only grow. She did not notice how the song of trumpets rang out between thunderclaps. And she did not catch the bleak gaze of her mother, watching her in stoic silence, from the centre of the crowd below.