Flash Fiction: Unworthy
“Why does the Goddess of the Wood consider me unworthy?” the leather clad warrior asked, handing the old gray-haired wood-priest the leaves he’d been crushing in his bare hand. “I have always held to the code of honor.”
“I do not doubt you, or your honor,” the old man said, stroking his dirty gray-streaked beard, then taking the leaves from him. “You can be completely honorable and still not worthy of acceptance into the order of the goddess. Honorable is not the trait she is looking for in those she will give her blessing to.”
The old man dumped the leaves the warrior had given him into his cup and added the boiling water. Holding it up to the great oak, he said. “If it is your will, allow me to see through time and understand why you will not accept this man.”
The warrior’s eyes went wide as the wood-priest downed the still scalding tea.
The old eyes glazed, his voice became hollow. “I can see you out in the woods. You were much younger. A fawn about to be taken by a cougar crosse your path. You spoiled its hunt just because you didn’t want to see the fawn eaten.”
“That’s it?” the warrior said in perplexion.
The old man shook his head. “What do you think that cougar did after missing that meal?”
“Hunted something else, I guess,” said with a shrug.
“A human took its food. It went and got a farmer’s pig to replace it and feed its cubs. Not only did that farmer’s kids have less that winter, he hunted down and killed the cougar a fortnight later. Days later, starved bone thin cubs came out of their den and were eaten by buzzards. It was months before a large enough predator moved in, and it that time nature was out of balance.”
“I didn’t know.”
“And the young fawn, what do you believe happened?”
“It joined its mother and herd, of course.”
“And they raided many, many, fields of many farmers for four years, forcing them to work harder to keep their families fed. It was fat and well fed when a wolf pack finally ended its life.”
“And for what these animals did, I am to be considered unworthy to serve?” he said in outrage.
“Not what they did. You acted without ever considering what the effect would be, or even gave it a second fault. It wasn’t the only time, just the one the goddess showed me. The goddess’ power is great. Your actions do not have to be right or honorable, by civilized standers, to wield it, but they must be thought out. She showed me this one just as an example. You many still serve her, as a guard and aid to her priest, but you cannot have her power.”
“I am a warrior of the first order, not some simple guardsmen, or servant!”
“There in is the rest of your answer. Only her servants get her power.”
A breeze blew leaves, dust, and smoke in the warrior’s face. When he stopped blinking. The priest, his fire, and the great oak they had been under were gone.