Ezekiel of the Produce Cart

It was a quiet day at market. Ezekiel sat under the produce cart and wished for the rain. He could feel the parched earth pounding behind his eyes. No wonder no one wanted to shop. The city waited to die. Their only hope of salvation had just ridden towards the castle in one of their fascinating mechanical carriages, leaving behind a woman and a girl child around his age. The water mages had sent a delegation at long last. Perhaps the peace could be restored.

The girl stood in the centre of the square as the woman went to browse the stalls. She looked around at the stalls, at the cracked earth that made up their square. He wanted to defend it, to show her the beauty of the layered sediments and dormant life that created a mural under their feet, but without water, it was just dust and dirt. She looked up and for a moment their eyes caught. He was shocked to see that she was crying. She looked away and started to turn, stepping rhythmically in a circle. Tears were pouring down her face now, and as she danced, he thought the first drop was one of them hitting the ground. Then there was another.

Ezekiel crawled out from under the cart, scarcely believing his eyes. There was not a cloud in the sky, and yet rain was falling in the square and on the buildings surrounding it. The water flowed over ground too parched to absorb it, and the dust turned to mud. The girl faltered on seeing it, slowing. Ezekiel panicked, somehow certain that if she stopped, the rain would too. He stepped forward, barely knowing what he was doing, and began the pattern of renewal. He had danced the square before, as part of the solstice rituals, and it flowed through him effortlessly. Cracks started to seal and the mud started to bubble.

A turn brought them face to face, and both of them stopped. The steps left his mind and he stood unsure of how to go on. Then she smiled and offered her hands, palm outwards in the sign for peace and connection. He raised his palms towards her and as they met, a new rhythm joined the beat of the earth. Together they moved, bowing and turning. New steps came to him and they danced together now. Water flowed unseen through the ground, bringing life to hidden secrets. He lost himself in the experience, revelling in the feeling of sharing this new pattern with the girl. Stranger or not, he felt more connected to her than he had any other in his life.

Finally the dance was done and they looked around as if freed from a spell. People lined the edges of the square, looking at them in awe. The market place glowed with light from the crystal veins, and all around them was an abundance of plant life. He stared in shock at the almost-forgotten sight of the murals in full splendour. Somehow they had woken all of the patterns, as if all of the seasons had come at once. He hadn’t known that was possible.
 
He caught a movement out of the corner of his eye and looked toward the girl. She stepped towards him, her arm out in a sign of deep respect. “I am Mira, of Healing Waters. Blessed be.”

He stepped forward to clasp it, meeting her, acknowledging and reciprocating the gesture. “Welcome Mira. I am Ezekiel, of…” He faltered, unsure what to say. The closest association he had was with the produce cart, and his thoughts were hung up on rotting vegetables. She graced him with a dazzling smile. “Of Living Earth.”
 
A smile broke slowly across his face, like the sun rising. “Ezekiel of Living Earth.” He said the words wonderingly, as if testing the truth on his tongue. He gripped her hand a little harder, and green eyes met blue. “You called life back into our city. My life is yours to do with what you will."