“God has spoken! Within a few days, the village shall be blessed with water!”
The high priest, arms spread wide, declares these words, and the petitioner bursts into sobs.
It’s no wonder. The man’s village hasn’t seen rain for a week, it seems. If this continues, the crops will wither, and the villagers will starve.
But now, everything’s fine. The oracle has been delivered.
The words of the god, who is said to speak only to the high priest, are absolute. Nine times out of ten, the future unfolds as the oracle foretells.
Truly a feat of faith, also known as a miracle. Thanks to this, the people are devout, forming lines here at the oracle chamber.
And then, the high priest winks.
Not at the tearful petitioner, but behind them, toward me, standing in the blind spot by the altar’s wing. I nod back slightly, signaling my understanding. That’s enough to communicate.
Exactly. The oracles, praised as miracles, have a trick behind them. People like us, the priests, work behind the scenes to make them come true. Of course, we’re unofficial. We’re not the proper priests who perform the rituals, so don’t worry.
Anyway, we’ll likely bring water to the man’s village and fill their reservoir. If we’re also considering soil improvements to enhance the pond’s water retention… We’ll need the civil engineering expert, and we can’t leave out the water quality and sanitation specialists either. Well, we’ve got plenty of talent, so it shouldn’t be too hard to pull off.
The oracles issued daily are truly varied. Making them happen requires all sorts of specialized skills. That’s why our operational team feels more like a group of technicians than servants of the gods.
—I don’t think of it as a sham.
People are at their best when they’re a little scared. It’s precisely because they hold something in awe and reverence that peace can come. Experience has proven this to me without a doubt.
The church, in the end, is just a convenient symbol to worship. But it’s a guidepost for all kinds of people. That’s why I find meaning in this job as a priest.
Honestly, it’s pretty tough work, but even so, it doesn’t compare to the high priest’s workload.
Every day, without fail, the high priest stands in the oracle chamber, listening to nearly a hundred voices all by himself. He judges the severity and priority of each situation in an instant.
And he doesn’t forget to look out for us. He keeps the oracles within a feasible scope. For example, earlier, he didn’t say it would rain, he said the village would be “blessed with water.”
Living a life so attuned to everything around him… how many years has it been? It’s astonishing.
When I became a priest, the high priest was already a seasoned veteran. To me, he’s less a boss and more a grandfather worthy of respect.
—Hm?
The high priest’s upper lip. It’s noticeably stretched.
Curious, I sneak a peek at the next petitioner, careful not to be noticed.
Well, well.
To put it modestly, she’s one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen in my life. And glamorous, too.
Judging people by their looks goes against the teachings, but I’m just stating an objective fact.
Not that breaking the rules would bring divine punishment. The old man said it himself. God’s pretty lenient, apparently.
Her plump lips part.
“I’m bored. A flashy miracle would be just fabulous, don’t you think?”
“God has spoken!! On the night of the full moon, a Pegasus shall descend upon the cathedral!”
An oracle delivered without hesitation. The high priest spreads his arms wide, joints fully extended, even flashing an ecstatic grin.
—He’s broken. The old man’s broken.
Has the relentless workload finally gotten to him, or was he swayed by the petitioner’s allure?
As I clutch my head, the glamorous woman’s bewitching figure saunters away at the edge of my vision.
There’s nothing urgent about her request. Normally, such a selfish wish would be dismissed in an instant. Yet, the old man went and issued an oracle.
Which means… we’ve got to make it happen.
But seriously, what a grandiose oracle to throw out there.
If he’s going to show off to a woman like this, I’d rather he hadn’t lived so frugally and had kicked up some mischief when he was younger… At least that’s what I’m tempted to think.
I completely ignore the wink the high priest tosses my way.
In our break room, a mix of frowns, exasperated looks, and even a few dazed expressions float around. It’s because I just relayed the old man’s wild claim—err, I mean, the oracle to the team.
The civil engineering guy, who’d been sleeping to prep for the night shift, speaks up in an exhausted tone.
“A Pegasus is that horse with wings, right? Where’s something like that supposed to be?”
“I’ll check the pet shops—”
“They don’t sell those! Don’t you break too, procurement guy. Please.”
“This is impossible! Even you, Leader, know where Pegasi live, don’t you?”
“Hm, uh… what was it again?”
“The theology teacher talked about it, right? Were you asleep?”
“I was awake. I don’t remember much, but… something about the heavens, I think?”
The procurement guy points a finger sharply at my response.
“So, basically, it’s a fairy tale, right?”
“That’s the unspoken rule—we don’t say that.”
“But it’s totally impossible, isn’t it?!”
As the procurement guy puffs out his cheeks, a pale girl raises her hand beside him. Her delicate fingers, usually steady as she sews intricate embroidery, are trembling now. She’s always been shy.
“What’s up, sewing specialist?”
“Um, that oracle… can’t we just pretend it didn’t happen? W-We haven’t always managed to fulfill every single one before, right?”
“I’d love to. But that trick won’t work this time.”
I smile but firmly shut it down, and everyone turns to look at me.
Hey, I’m not happy about this either—don’t give me those looks.
“It was heard by a huge crowd. The location’s set as this cathedral. Spectators are going to flood in.”
A spectacle on the night of the full moon. Presented by God, starring Pegasus. There’s no way it won’t spread like wildfire.
Even though the divine authority is strong in this country, only a handful ever witness its miracles. Unless someone’s in dire straits, an oracle isn’t issued. Otherwise, we’d all die from overwork.
So this is an exception among exceptions. Everyone’s going to rush to catch a glimpse.
“Couldn’t we reinterpret it nicely and brush it off—”
“No way. What happens if the church loses its credibility?”