Finding A Scapegoat

It had been too peaceful for too long. The people came to the High Priestess with petty complaints and questions about where things come from. When they had forgotten what their place was, they became feisty, squabbling with their neighbors instead of being grateful for what the High Priestess had provided. It was time to make an example of someone, but whom? She needed something big, something worthy of her wrath, to quell the people’s restlessness and make herself the foreboding queen again.

A knock sounded at her chamber door.

“Your Highness, one of the villagers was spied leaving a secret cave,” reported a soldier.

“We shall go immediately!”

Trekking to the cave in the fading light was not easy. The rocks were steep and rough, jutting into the air like teeth waiting to tear. The cave entrance was not much more than a crack. Once inside, however, a cavern opened, and lantern light fell upon the curved hull of a boat.

Someone was planning on leaving the island. A traitorous, non believer! Perfect!

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