Day two of living as the "Bearer of the End."
And so far? I haven't brought anything.
Let alone an ending.
But I have brought one new problem:
This cult now has a horse.
Not just any horse.
Valmor.
My horse.
Who somehow... infiltrated the cult.
As a cultist.
Wearing a robe.
A robe.
Long.
Black.
Hooded.
Dragging-on-the-ground type.
The problem?
He's still a horse.
His face? Horse.
His legs? Still very horse.
His voice? Still goes
"Hrrrrhhhnnkk."
But the cultists?
"Oh, he must be a sacred servant from the spirit realm."
One cultist whispered to another as they watched Valmor quietly chewing the altar flowers:
"Uh... so like, do we have a horse in the cult now?"
The other nodded solemnly.
"A sacred horse, bro. Look at his eyes. So deep. So philosophical. As if… burdened by trauma from a holy war."
Valmor just had altar dust in his eye.
Meanwhile, I was being forced to give another prophecy.
They even brought a whiteboard.
Today, I was too lazy to think.
So I just wrote:
"Today's Prophecy:
The world will remain stable… if everyone WATERS THEIR PLANTS at exactly 12 noon.No reason. No compromise."
They were moved to tears.
One of them hugged a potted plant and cried, "I'm sorry I haven't loved you enough…"
Outside, they began watering everything green.
Even the moss on the walls.Even the mushrooms in the bathroom.
But disaster struck at 4 PM.
Holy Tea Time.
A cultist came in carrying a tray of tea… then tripped. The tea spilled. Panic erupted.
"WE'RE DOOMED!"
Valmor—who was only assigned to guard the door—saw this as his heroic moment.
He galloped into the main chamber.
His robe billowing dramatically.
But the hood was too tight, so he headbutted a stone pillar.
Everyone froze.
Valmor got back up. Looked around.
"HRRNNKHH!!"
One cultist—the same one who asked about the horse earlier—turned to me and said,
"O Bearer of the End… is this horse… delivering a message?"
I had no idea what to say.
But if I stayed silent, they'd believe it even more.
So I just nodded.
"Yes. He is... the Bringer of Replacement Tea. You failed. So... he appeared."
They all immediately knelt before Valmor.
Someone even shouted,
"I shall give up coffee for the sake of the world!"
Valmor was silent.
Then he pooped.
The cultist who got hit by the poop?
"THANK YOU FOR YOUR BLESSING, O GODDESS!"
That night, Valmor and I sat in the corner.
I chewed on stale bread.
Valmor chewed on his own robe.
We looked at each other.
"You realize they seriously think you're some kind of four-hooved prophet?"I said.
Valmor snorted, exhausted.
"I just want to go home and take a shit properly."