ProphetMature

It was daylight now, not that it really mattered. No sun shone through here at Sprig. The wind was picking up fast and the tall dead pines that overhung along the barricaded walls, now swayed with motion. A very tall figure was seen at the entrance to the camp, using long strides in his walk. 

"Wha' do you want?" It was Dusty. He was usually on gatekeeper duty, unless he was at the bar, which he frequently was. 

His voice was low, but hurried. "I'm sorry great sir, but this is a free establishment, and I need to figure out how to get my message spread to the ears of our unfathomable universe." Dusty remained wide-eyes as the robed man finished his sentence and entered the gates without approval. The town was surprisingly busy at the time, with the trading post and bar both almost completely filled. One young boy was selling fish he had caught from a nearby stream, hanging them outward from his hand as he yelled the price. Sprig had to it all the voices of a regular town, bustling and prosperous. 

A voice cut through, and nearly everyone stopped their movement.

"Children," It was a rough, deep voice that carried with it much weight in words. "Please, if you must, I need to speak." He had stood on a nearby crate, and was now taller than the entire town.

"Who the hell let this purple imbecil in?" It was Esposito.

"Now. There is no need to be hasty, I am not here to hurt. But, please, let me speak and give to all of you everything in the universe you can't comprehend." A group had formed now, mostly of curious visitors that thought, if nothing else, at least it was a good freak show.

"Hey man!" Another person yelled out from the trading post porch. "We ain't got no loony bin here in Sprig, 'kay?"

The robed man gave him a long look of dissatisfaction and spoke, even louder than before.

"Is it not true you are plagued by silver death?" He pointed to a nearby pistol on someone's holster. 

"The last shooting was a month ago." Another very fat man had appeared at the trading post entrance. He had a small bowtie hanging from his neck and a grey mustache that seemingly jumped up and down as he spoke. "And that was in Esposito's bar, they happen all the time."

"Ah." The robed man retorted, "Ah, but there always will be another death on your hands, won't there? The universe is dark through death and Chaos. We need to find out God, Order."

"Show us your  face!" A drunk man screamed.

The only thing visible from his elongated purple robe were his lips, almost always in movement. The rest was shadowed in black.

"My face is no different from yours, brother. So now listen, men and women. Life is not made to be rolling in filth, taring up your lungs and drinking until you don't recall. Life is about knowledge! To know what you didn't know before. Isn't that all you people want? Is to know the one unanswerable question. Why?" He took a well calculated breath, "The almighty why? Why were we plagued by these monsters of night? Do any of you know?" No one knew, obviously, but now most of the people in the audience were actually listening. Some had even begun nodding.

"I am here, truly, because I only have one thing to say. Knowledge and Order are Gods that rule us! In everything!" His arms were now flailing with his speech, his dark teeth shining through the grey of morning. "Yet, Chaos and Destruction are also Gods. Set out to destroy the world we're in. So, if you and I ever hope to attain transcendence, we must find our God and follow. Close your eyes and follow." His head bowed. Then, a few seconds later, raised again. "Thank you. Thank you for your time. My brothers and I live nearby, and I will be back to preach soon! Think about what I have spoken! And Order be with you!"

And just like that, he turned and walked right past Dusty. No one knew what to do. A few people clapped. The rest went on busily with their chores.

"What the fuck was that all about, ya' know?" Esposito carefully walked across the middle of town over to the fat man, who was perched on a chair outside the store. He twiddled with his mustache.

"I'm not sure, Espo, but I think we better let him do what he does. A lot of people were liking that, whatever it was. He was right after all, this is a free town."

"God damn it! Not if he's telling people to not drink my liquor!" Esposito's face was now beet red as he was legitimately angry. The fat man, laughed.

"Oh shut up. Kucharski and Dusty give you enough business for a lifetime anyway."

Esposito glared at him intensely. "Screw you Art!" He was terrible at insults. Art laughed once more. Esposito walked back across the town, into his bar. He was still red. Art then pushed on his knees to get up, and walked back into the store. The wind continued to throw the trees. 

The End

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