“I’m saying the world is falling apart- you heard about Talice just falling off the map, GONE just gone!” The General hunched over his littered desk.
“I understand that, but… we can’t just send out our agents in every direction looking for ways to help-”
“Look, the Creature has a grip on this land and if we don’t loosen that or remove it altogether I would place bets the next time the ground opens it will be under us.”
“There’s no denying the Psalmanir’s foresight; the land will cry out, groaning and weeping. I do fear we are nearing grave times indeed,” the Younger placed his hand gently on the ancient tome, the Psalmanir.
“Indeed,” the General responded, distant in his thoughts.
“We are at a loss here brother, is this not unlike Him? Lead His followers until they’re weary and beaten only to rescue them for His glory?”
“Indeed- we must pray Younger. I want you to gather the others, we need His blessing before we can move forward, with anything.”
Younger showed a subtle smile and left the tent. General prayed, he had always prayed; but not always ready to accept those prayers being answered. Had that Caligas man not arrive, more over had Sendiil not answered, they wouldn’t be faced with this decision. Oh how he had been lulled into that deceptive sleep, actually believing they should simply sit by and watch the world decay; awaiting their reward with Him. Nothing short of Remnant liturgy!
Sendiil never called His children to be pacified robed fools. He was a God of action, and that was what General was called to now. They would pray, he thought, and if Sendiil gave them no answer they would move forward with the only plan they have.
He had asked for a desperate faith, but now he had no other option than desperation. The land was groaning, had been for years, but now the signs of the Creature’s infection were boiling across the land and it’s people. Now all there was to pray for was the chance to reverse these effects, more time to spread the Truth, spread the hope they had to offer.