Eklos was not a priest yet, he still had years of study ahead of him before he would be anointed as a cleric of the Draconic Order. Still, he could assist, and though he’d have no speaking part he was happy to carry the holy text that contained Thagretan scripture as he walked beside his mother. He had his thumb between the pages, to keep track of the page that held the passage
Azlat would read from. She had taken care to avoid any overly vitriolic passages, as the ball was a diplomatic affair. Tales of violence and vengeance, though entertaining to herself, would be poor diplomacy and could not go over well with their guests. Yet there remained plenty else to work with.
She'd found a passage the didn't
quite pertain to royalty, but the theme of it ought serve suitable for Queen's
event. The passage had been carefully selected, with Azlat opting to abstain from holy
literature pertaining to subservience to the gods, or tales of their wrath. Most everything written had been explicitly written for
Thagretans, which made the task of finding a suitable neutral passage a tricky matter. This would be the first she had preached to outsiders, and Azlat conditioned her sermon to account for that.
Even then, it took a bit of interpretation. Which, as a priestess, she was qualified to make. Rather than the Holy Dragon Queen, Azlat would focus on the mortals involved in the holy writings. There was a lesson to be learned in their conduct that went beyond simple divine loyalty. This was an
event open to all, and Azlat would not sully it by telling her audience to obey her gods. Even if they should, she knew better than to outright
say it.
“I ask of your attention for a mom̴ent, to hear the holy Draconic word.” She began, looking to all in attendance as she spoke in a loud and authoritative tone.
“Blessed be Route, the city of the faithful. Blessed be the kingdom accepting of the Great Holy Dragons.” Azlat began, speaking loudly enough for those in attendance to hear clearly, while Eklos held the book beside her.
“It was over a year ago that I began my pilgr͞image. Though Route was an unknown city to Thagretis, it could be no coincidence that guided me here, and in so doing I follow the footsteps of the Holy Elder dragon and the Great Dragon Queen. For it has be͡en written in holy text that there would be those individuals remaining pious and proper among those who had forgotten Their n͝ames.” Azlat continued, her head tilted high while reciting her words with an official oratory tone.
“Drakormir and Neha, the holiest of the holy! Who years ago were woken from slumber by the alignment of planets and moons, as has been foretold for millennia. I hold no doubt that they guided me on my journey to bring me swiftly to Route. Here, tr͡ue dragons find themselves in receipt of proper reverence. Know that their ǵuiding grace led me here, to share their holy names with a city deserving to know them. That they were pr̢eviously unknown matters not – it is Route’s Draconic reverence that earns the blessing of their grace! May they too watch over and safeguard this city, as they have over ours for untold ages.” Azlat would have never imagined that they’d be receptive to her faith, and it had been an unexpected blessing. She was grateful for the opportunity, and remained hopeful for the first
pleasant relations Thagretis had enjoyed with outside powers. While Routans may not be formal members of their clergy, that they were accepting of the Holy Dragons that Thagretis worshipped was a boon. And it was surely by their guiding hands that Azlat found herself here among them.
“As those who settled Route held Draconic guidance, as do I. A holy omen unto Route as witnessed evidence that the gods continue to watch ov̵er us. That I arrived to be present for the c͞oronation of Her Highness, Queen Esme, is no coincidence. It is a timely and divine endorsement of her rule. Long may she reign.” Azlat paused for a moment. Now was the time to read the passage she’d selected, and Azlat turned to Eklos with her arms out in a gesture to receive the book. Eklos dutifully opened it up to the proper page and handed it to his mother. She’d have smiled if she could have, yet could not break the formality of the presentation. He too, kept his expression stone-faced out of reverence despite his concealed excitement. He was doing rather well.
“There is a tale in our holy text th̴at details an account which holds relevance. Etani and Kynla had inherited plots of land. The two to̸iled, and with time and hard work did they see the land transform from empty field to lush farmland. Kynla remained faithful to the Holy Dragons throughout, and gave them credit for the results of her labour. Etani did not. As she saw that it was by her hand alone that the land had yielded nourishment.”
“While Kynla made time for p̷rayer and worship, Etani ever insisted that there was work to be done. She did nothing to honour the gods. She marked no crops for sacrifice. She heeded no advice from her sister. Before the harvest, a ter̵rible blight arrived. Both plots were struck by it, yet the blight spread through Etani’s crops far faster. Kynla found that much of her harvest survived, in plentiful enough amount that she could share what she had with her sister.”
“The blight passed, the fields were replanted and a new harvest season arrived. But days went by without a single drop of rainfall from the skies, denying the cr̕ops the water they needed. The stream nearby dried up, and the pl͠ants began to wither and die from thirst. Etani could do nothing but panic, struck with helplessness at her situation. Kynla too, was without solution, but she had remain͝ed loyal and faithful to the gods. Kynla had explored and exc͝avated stone for a shrine to Neha. In doing so, she revealed a stream from which potable water flowed. Again, piousness had delivered her from ill fortune.”
“It was węeks before the stream flowed again, and the sun b͡aked the soil that surrounded the tilled plot of land. Spring water saved the harvest, and rainfall fin̢ally arrived. The thin, fine mist fell and brought the land to life again, triggering the bloom of dormant plants and spurring the sub͡sequent arrival of pests and vermin. Mice were the next misfortune to plague the sisters, raiding the storehouses of fo̸od they had w͜orked hard to harvest. Again, Etani suffered the most. Despite her greatest efforts, she could do little. Kynla however, had built her storehouse around the shrine to Neha that she’d cons͜tructed earlier. With the Dragon Goddess keeping watch, and candles kept alight, little food was lost.”
“All that Etani saw was the result of her own work. It was she alone that tilled the fields and planted them. When all proceeded well, she nee̴ded no aid. Yet, when misfortune reared its head, co̴uld she do it all alone? It was only through lab̵our that the fields they t́ended yielded plentiful food, but labour on its own it rarely suit͟able enough. The sisters had gr̴own the crops, but it was Neha who provided pr̕otection from vermin. Blight attacked their plants, but in adhering to holy principles, Kynla’s crops were kept safe. Drought thr͞eatened all, but when there was no w͠ater, it was Kynla’s devotion that led to the life-giving water beneath the ground. It is to her that Etani owes her own well being, and it is to Neha that both ultimately credit their survival. Such wa͞s Her gift unto her, for those who keep faithful need not fear.”
“Yet this is a tale of legend and antiquity. The ma͢chinations of the divine remain mysterious, the analogy remains. Faith remains important, but as Kynla judged not, nor ought any. Aid your neighbour as she did, and place further faith upon your co͟mmunity that may provide when you find yourself in need.”
“For as they toil, so do we, and it is easy to lose sight what is holy when the only work witnessed is wrought by our own hands. When all goes well and there is no hardship, the c͠redit for our prosper̵ity might seem like oúrs and ours alone. It is in tim̸es of difficulty that community aids us. When threaten face us, it is to the warriors of Route that we may owe our safety. When plague strikes, it is through our healers and clerics that we may be shelter̸̕ed from it. It is through faith in kingdom and our gods that we may live with a sense of security.”
“Friends, devotees, and guests alike, I pray your lives are of ser̵ene safety without need of help. Yet should you fall, may you have dependable neighbours to rely upon. For none of us can do better alone than we can together. As a queen is no ruler without her kingdom, her citizens are nothing without their Queen.”
“Beyond our walls, I have encountered the very threats that exist in the untamed land beyond our city. I have seen a city run by b͝andits, a burden on those who failed to res͠ist the yoke. I have seen the barbarism spread by those lack̢ing proper faith and civility, and ignorant of true Dragon’s grace. Keep faith strong, and so it shall guide you. For the Holy Dragons watch over us who accept them, and blessed be us all to know it.” Azlat spoke, closing the book she had read from and handing it back to Eklos, who attentively remained ready to receive it again.
“Blessings unto Route, prosperity unto its citizens, and glory to the Queen.” Azlat concluded with hands clasped as she ended her speech. With a nod to Eklos, both retreated from the centre of the room, with the young boy keeping the book clutched carefully in his hands.
“You did gr͝eat, dear.” Azlat beamed, once the activity of the ballroom began to resume and replace the respectful silence during her sermon.
“Thanks, Mom.” Eklos replied happily.
