The white bastion of the halls of Elysium. Light shimmered through the glass ceilings, rays of the gods trickling down to bathe the pious. Gwen gathered her dress up as she knelt down on the marble floors, the red dragon painted on its centre. Her hair cascaded down her back and vanished into her porcelain skin like silk.
“Speak up, Eshiram.”
Gwen looked up; the cardinal in his gold and red raiment called out to her from his throne.
“The gods will never hear prayers spoken with such timidity,” reaffirmed the cardinal.
“I’m sorry, holy one.” Gwen bowed and clasped her hands once more. The ‘Eshiram’ was her given title, the head of the church and channeler of the gods' divinity. It demanded respect, to all besides the cardinal, the council’s appointed leader. The people’s champion.
Gwen stared up into the ceiling, the blinding light filled with falling dust, scattering the luminescence. She continued her prayers, in the hopes of hearing the divine direction of the gods once more. Something to quell the worries of a disturbed public, to calm their minds and spirits.
But the gods did not respond.
The cardinal shook his head. He stood, pressing his bejewelled cane into the lush red carpet beneath his feet.
Gwen watched as he shuffled past her, her eyes pleading for forgiveness, or validation. Neither of which were requited. The heavy oaken doors opened behind her; the creaking joints accompanied by the cardinal’s cane resounding off of the marble floor. The doors closed, and she was bathed in an uncomfortable silence.
Today's prompt: speak up
If you'd like to participate too, the contest can be found here: @mariannewest/day-1556-5-minute-freewrite-thursday-prompt-speak-up