SFFSat #5

Sadly, I’ve been away for a couple weeks, but I’m back now and ready to post another ten sentences.  We last saw our priestess with a knife jammed through her hand, waiting to hear from her goddess.


Seconds ticked by.  My heart slid into my stomach.  Finally I tightened my grip on the handle and pulled the knife out. It went blade down into the bowl of blessed water as I held my hand out to Prophet Neijen. He pressed a bandage on each side of the wound while High Priest Vaktril wrapped a strip of cloth around my hand and tied it.

Vaktril muttered his weekly admonition, “Mirian, there’s no need to penetrate your entire hand. An offering of a few drops of blood is sufficient.”

I held his gaze for a moment before turning toward my prayer mat.  When I became the prophetess, he wouldn’t dare scold me.

6 thoughts on “SFFSat #5”

  1. Right! You did leave us with a bit of a cliff hanger all those weeks. And, geez, NOW he tells her she only needed a tiny nick. Someone needs to tell Vaktril that posting this information before the ceremony might be a good idea.

  2. A little late on the warning, Vaktril! She’d better hope for some sort of divine intervention, at the very least to fully restore her hand. I remember cringing while reading the description of the act in the last snippet.

Comments are closed.