Priest

(Nothing much to say.)
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I dreamed I was a Mayan priest, sequestered away in the royal chamber atop the second-grandest of our pyramids, second only to our Great God-Emperor. Draped in the finest silk and gold fashions and adorned with sparkling jewels of all kinds, glinting in the golden glow of the torch sconces in the night. Tailor's and artisan's own empires rose and fell depending on my choice of their product or their competitors. My dozen concubine harem splayed across my bed pouting and moaning, catering to my every base desire. Servants cooked my food, drew my baths, entertained me with song and with poetry. If I was wrathful, they were scorned, if I was magnanimous, they were praised.

My only duty was to the people. I was to take the wisdom granted me by the Gods and bestow it on our subjects. I was very fortunate to have such a connection. None of us, save our Great God-Emperor, could claim to have the ear of a God, or to hear the voice of one. Our Great God-Emperor had once told me the holiest path was from the Gods' lips to my ears. Therefore the holiest of duties was mine to perform.

Such was the occasion that night. It was a festival, and we had been hard at work. My servants had heard the woes of hundreds of our villagers, and selected a dozen of the most difficult problems for me. They ascended the great pyramid, hearts and souls heavy with great trouble. One by one the knelt before me and poured out their troubles. They came with problems difficult and varied, complex and trying. Paradoxes and cosmic questions and horrid moral dilemmas by the handful. 

I had no answers for them. 

I opened my mouth to apologize for lacking the wisdom my station suggested. From deep within me came an incredible sound. Holy music, a divine reverberation. The rumble of thunder, the blast of cannon fire, the roar of colossal engines and ancient beasts. The keen of whale song, air-raid sirens, funeral mourners and shearing metals. Children laughing, stars burning, hearts beating and chains clinking. All these things and more spilled from my mouth in that moment; simultaneous, blurring, layered. 

I closed my mouth suddenly, in surprise. The troubled peasants making prostrations at my feet had tears welling in their eyes. Looks of profound gratitude stained their faces, as if this sound could carry away all their woes.
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There you have it, post number fifteen. (approach with trepidation)