The Silence of the Prophets
"The eldest daughter of the Scales discerns truth, the second daughter peers into the future, and the third daughter reads thoughts."
From when did it begin, I wonder—that all the prophets of the Pantheon fell silent?
The second daughter of the Scales, who gouged out her own eyes to glimpse the future; Corvus, the augur crow who foretold the hero's advent; Hospice, who foresaw lifespans and accompanied the dying to their end. None who possessed the gift of foresight opened their mouths again.
The second daughter of the Scales collapsed after seven days and nights of silent prayer. The augur crows hurled themselves against rocks in suicide. Hospice shuttered the church and vanished.
The future has closed.
Some in the Pantheon whispered as much.
No longer is the power to foresee the future granted to humankind. Countless priests, shrine maidens, and heroes came to believe it.
But the truth was a touch more horrifying.
"Out of mere curiosity, I read the second daughter's thoughts. Looking back now, it was a reckless thing to do."
I read the second daughter's thoughts.
And I regretted peeking into a future that was not permitted.
The world ends.
Suddenly, as if the long-accumulated prosperity was a lie, it crumbles in an instant.
As if this world itself had set an expiration date on the survival of the species called "humanity," it dooms us with malicious persistence.
What prophet could expose such an ominous future?
It was something even they couldn't confess to themselves.
The moment the future became known, all would despair—and that despair would be no different from another apocalypse.
"And then, an oracle descended upon the Temple of the Scales. A revelation that a hero's vessel existed."
What hero could avert that grim future?
The world had already been decreed to collapse so cruelly.
Yet the word of the gods could not be ignored.
One hero set forth into the forest.
And there, he found a blind girl and brought her to the temple.
And the moment he heard her name, I realized that hope still lingered in this world.
"Priscilla. The witch who would doom the world has come to the temple, stripped of all her witch's powers."
It was strange.
In the future I had glimpsed, no such possibility existed.
Her fate was to be slain by a hero of "justice" who turned a blind eye to no wrong, thereby dooming the world.
I read the witch's thoughts.
This time, not out of curiosity, but a sense of duty.
I believed that if I could uncover why the witch's fate had changed, then even the predestined doom could be altered.
And.
The sole name of hope I glimpsed in the witch's mind was—
"Gigachad."
A being of grotesque musculature and ideal masculine beauty.
It was Gigachad.
"She believes that it was this entity called 'Gigachad' who invited her to this temple."
An anomalous existence that appeared in no future.
It wasn't hard to infer that this being had forged the "oracle."
If it was a "malevolent" entity, then perhaps another path to doom had opened for this world.
And.
The god of the Scales is generous to those who awaken to truth on their own.
Soon, a new oracle descended upon me.
"And that oracle was about me?"
"Yes."
"I thought the god of the Scales would remain silent."
"Had you not changed the future, it would have."
"Well, got it. It worked out in the end, so we're good."
"Thank you for understanding."
Having heard the explanation up to that point, the dimensional traveler peered out the carriage window as if he'd lost interest.
Clunk.
The carriage jolted.
Silence descended upon the carriage bound for the temple.
Soon, everyone in the carriage began to nod off.
…….
In explaining the full story to the dimensional traveler who had come to save the world, I shamefully concealed one fact.
He can read thoughts, but…
I, too, have lived my life reading others' thoughts.
I'm adept at handling my own as well.
Not thinking certain thoughts is child's play.
In truth, the god of the Scales intends to appoint Priscilla as—
the new shrine maiden of the Scales.
Poor Priscilla. May you one day open your eyes to the truth. And may you not regret or blame yourself for the future that has vanished.
Then, she too will awaken to the truth.
For the god of the Scales takes one thing and grants another in return.
The one whose eyes are darkest can see brightest of all.
Perhaps the dimensional traveler will find himself in a bit of a bind.
She harbors excessive affection and obsession for the hallucination called "Gigachad."
Once she learns the truth, she'll surely cling to the traveler.
I hope the traveler doesn't take it badly.
I'm sorry for hiding the truth, but… my god is nothing if not fair.
After all, you changed Priscilla's fate.
You fool yourself that "only you can change your own future" out of fear of "failing again," but…
You remain this world's tuner.
Saving the world, redeeming Priscilla, pitying her blindness and guiding her to the temple—it was all you.
It won't be just Priscilla who must face herself properly.
So, one day, when all is resolved.
When this world's ending can bear the cliché "and they lived happily ever after."
May you, too,
meet a just and happy conclusion.
May the fairness of the Scales be with you.
"My lord Duke. We have arrived at the Temple of the Scales and Contracts."
"Yawn… smack. Already?"
Sleeping in the carriage left my whole body stiff. My ass hurts too.
The shrine maiden of the Scales, who exited first, escorted me while vigilantly scanning the surroundings. True to her hero role.
Come to think of it, I never heard why she was disguised as a man after all.
—"Because many know the shrine maiden's face. As a man, even if the features are similar, no one would suspect a shrine maiden."
—"Ah."
I'd figured she had some shady hobby like sneaking into men's restrooms or locker rooms. Her cross-dressing skills weren't amateur.
—"……."
—"You went in, didn't you?"
—"I only used them out of necessity while disguised. Since you read thoughts, you know I'm not lying."
—"So, did you see?"
—"I harbored no indecent thoughts whatsoever."
—"You totally peeped. You did."
A cross-dressing pervert shrine maiden of the Scales— the temple's future looked bleak.
The shrine maiden tried to justify herself in her mind, but I turned off telepathy, so I couldn't hear anymore.
Her ability was mind-reading, not telepathy, after all.
"……."
"Hero of the Scales, where to now? I am eager to inform the great god of the Scales and Contracts that I have inherited the Divine Name of Nosferatu."
"Sigh… The rite of divine name succession is held in the chapel. I'll guide you."
"My thanks for your kindness, Hero of the Scales."
"…Don't tease."
"Pardon? I don't follow."
I'm the only one who knows she can read minds.
Meaning I can sexually harass— no, defame her without risk of lawsuit.
I only thought it.
Just thought it.
"……."
"Haha, the Hero of the Scales is quite the stoic."
Ah, this could get addictive. Mental attacks are the weakness of mind-readers, huh.
"…Mind your thoughts, or you'll regret it someday."
"Wise words, thank you. I always guard against sinning in thought, word, and deed, so no need to worry."
We walked through the temple in silence for a while.
Grand, archaic pillars like those from Greek ruins; intricate frescoes depicting mythic scenes; colossal statues of the gods.
A space befitting the halls of divinity.
Between the pillars, heroes and priests bustled about.
The peculiar thing? Many among the heroes and priests had disabilities.
One-eyed, one-armed, one-legged—people missing body parts were commonplace.
It felt like every disabled person on the continent had gathered here.
"The god of the Scales is fair, but that doesn't mean everyone receives equal authority. What one values in their limb determines what is restored. The authority granted to a painter who lost their right hand differs from that of a swordsman. Even a left-hander's right hand differs from a right-hander's."
Quite an intriguing doctrine.
My gaze turned to Priscilla.
Since our initial greeting, Priscilla hadn't uttered a word, silently following the shrine maiden.
What authority would Priscilla receive, having forsaken all her great witch powers?
As I considered asking via telepathy again, the shrine maiden spoke first.
We had arrived at the chapel.
"Here we are. This is the chapel where the rite of divine name succession takes place."
"Cool stained glass."
"The priest is already prepared. Please, do not act foolishly before the gods."
"Of course."
The shrine maiden of the Scales eyed me anxiously, but I stood tall.
I won't act on it.
I won't act.