Believe
“Do you think anyone else is going to show up?” Lyssa looked around at the groups of people on the edge of the woods, putting up tents and lighting barbecues to make themselves some dinner. Golden evening sunlight poured from between dark clouds. The sky looked heavy. Foreboding. She found it unsettling.
“There’s still time before tomorrow. I’m sure some others will show up in the morning.” Maia gave her that reassuring smile she always gave. That smile could convince Lyssa of anything. Almost anything. The pitch of Maia’s voice betrayed that she was anything but sure. She was clinging to hope too. Just like everyone else.
Just metres away, the construction vehicles stood silently. Poised like a grotesque metal menagerie, their stillness a sharp contrast to the destruction they were planning to wreak the next day. This forest had stood here for thousands of years. At its heart, were ancient neolithic monuments. Some kind of temple, according to the archaeologists. But all people seemed to care about were the riches they hoped to find by digging up the ground.
“Hey,” Maia looked concerned, “how are you feeling?”
Lyssa considered her words. What was she supposed to say? That her stomach was in knots? That her skin was prickling, or that her jaw was sore from being clenched so much all day long? Finally, she settled on, “anxious.”
Maia held up a bottle of wine. “Maybe a little of this might help?”
Lyssa shrugged and took the bottle, fishing a bottle opener out of her backpack. “Can’t hurt.”
“Hey, do you think those are going to be a problem?” Maia said, eyeing the towering dark clouds in the skies overhead.
“Just a midsummer storm, I think.” Lyssa uncorked the wine bottle with a loud pop. “I don’t think it’ll rain. But if we’re lucky, we might get some lightning.”
“Oooo, a light show. Nice!” Maia giggled as Lyssa poured two glasses of wine for them.
“We tried our best,” Lyssa said, raising her glass.
“And we’ll keep doing so!” Maia smiled.
They clinked glasses and took a sip of the wine, enjoying its rich, warm flavour, as the last rays of orange sunlight fell onto the hill. Lyssa sat back heavily, knocking over the wine bottle.
“Shit!” she gasped.
Maia caught it quickly. “It’s ok. You didn’t spill much.”
A rumble of thunder rippled through the air, as the sun dipped below the horizon.
“Do you need aid?”
The voice startled both of them. The turned to see a pale man, dressed in a long coat with a hood.
Lyssa stood up sharply. “Are you here to join the protest?”
The man looked at her, bemused. He had sharp, narrow features. Androgynous. His sky blue eyes were strangely calming to look at. “Protest?” he asked. “What are you protesting?”
Lyssa pointed at the diggers lined up nearby. “We’re trying to stop them from destroying the forest.”
“Would you like a glass of wine?” Maia cut in, holding up the bottle.
The pale man looked at her and grinned. “It’s been some time since anyone offered me anything,” he said. “I’d be delighted, thank you.”
Lyssa flopped back down where she’d been sitting. With a flourish of his coat and a fluid motion, the pale man sat with them both. Something about him seemed strange to Lyssa, but she couldn’t quite place exactly what it was. Maia poured a paper cup of wine and handed it to the stranger.
“I hope you don’t mind the cheap cups,” she said, embarrassed.
“Not at all.”
The three of them clinked glasses and each sipped their wine, as the sun disappeared below the horizon.
“So why are these,” he gestured at a nearby bulldozer, “what do you call them?”
Lyssa frowned and looked at the vehicles. “Diggers?”
“Why are these diggers trying to destroy the forest?”
“They want to mine the ground for some metal or other,” Lyssa wrinked her nose.
“You must’ve read the flyers we’ve been sending out?” Maia asked.
The pale man shook his head.
“Well, we’ve lived our entire lives near here,” Maia furrowed her brow, “and we’re not going to let them take our forest without a fight.”
“I’ve been here for quite some time too,” the man nodded. “And these people here are your warriors?”
Lyssa laughed. “Warriors. I like that.”
“There aren’t enough people here though,” Maia sighed. “We’ve tried so hard to get people interested in our cause, but...”
“No one believes in it,” Lyssa finished.
The pale man looked wistfully at the horizon, where the sun had just set. In the twilight, he looked weary, his eyes clouded with thoughts. “I know just how that feels.”
Lyssa raised her eyebrows. “How do you mean?”
A pause. “It’s difficult,” he said, “to get people to believe in you. People move on. Find new concerns.”
“Like money,” Lyssa nodded.
“Exactly!” The man looked at her with his clear blue eyes. “They find these new things to worship. It consumes them.”
“And they no longer care about the past,” Maia glanced towards the darkening woodlands, “like those old monuments we’re trying to protect.”
He gave a smile, filled with as much warmth as the sun which had just set. “I was unsure at first,” he said, “but I think I would like very much to join in your protest.”
Lyssa looked to Maia, who gave her a big smile. She looked back to the pale man. “We’re glad to have you among us.”
“I just have one concern.”
“What is it?”
“It’s been a long time,” he said, his eyes clouding with thoughts again, “since I’ve done anything which really mattered.”
Maia put down her glass and sat up straight. “I believe in you.”
The man looked at her, his mouth open in surprise. “What did you say?”
“I said I believe in you,” Maia said, giving him her most reassuring smile. “And you know what?”
He smiled at her, cocking his head to one side.
“The most important thing is that we believe in ourselves,” Maia said with conviction, her voice slightly louder. “And me? I believe in myself.” She stood, as others started to look over at them. “Lyssa?”
Lyssa hesitated. She didn’t want to be the centre of attention. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and stood. “I believe in myself too,” she said, looking back at Maia. “And I believe in all of us.”
Lyssa looked around at the people nearby. Several of them raised their glasses and cups, voicing their agreement. She held a hand towards the pale man, who was still sitting. He took it and stood with them.
“Perhaps,” he said, nodding with realisation. “Perhaps that’s what we all really need.”
“It doesn’t matter if no one believes in you,” Maia placed a hand on his shoulder, “as long as you believe in yourself.”
“Hey,” Lyssa said, “did you bring a tent? You’ll need somewhere to get some rest. They’re going to start up those diggers in the morning, and we’ll need to be ready.
The pale man took a step forward and cracked his knuckles. “No they won’t,” he said in a voice like silk and thunder.
With a flourish of his coat, the pale man raised his hands upwards towards the sky. Sheet lightning rippled across the clouds, casting bright flashes of light on the trees. Thunder rumbled all around. Crack! A bulldozer was hit by a lightning strike. Crack! Another one struck a digger. Crack! Crack! Each vehicle was hit over and over, the force of it warping them, ruining the machinery.
He turned back to Lyssa and Maia. They both looked at him in shock.
“Thank you,” the old sky god said to them. “They shall not desecrate my temple.”