Overture
Page 23
Rehaak paused as exhaustion overcame him. “I have never fully trusted the Creator, and I tried to follow Him without understanding that He is loving and faithful. My half-hearted commitment will no longer be enough. I can move forward now since I know how trustworthy the Creator is. My only safety lies along the path the Creator set before me.” He slumped into the chair behind him.
Aibhera waited for Rehaak to continue, but when he did not, she stood and pushed up the sleeves of her garment. “Our grasp of the abilities the Creator has given us has grown. The Book of Songs provided information about the war in the Aetherial Realm and our part in it.” She pointed upward and raised her voice. “The Creator has ceded control of Aarda to those who follow Him. Although the Nethera can do a great deal of damage, they cannot win outright. We have time to rest, recuperate, prepare for war, and trust the Faithful One to guide us.”
The voices of his followers faded away while they discussed their next moves. It feels strange to think of them as my followers. Rehaak whispered to his god for help as his strength waned. Thank You. You taught me faithfulness through my friends, and thank You for those You sent to save us. They and my friends pulled me back from the brink of death. Physical pain rises and ebbs like the tides, but the sting of my wavering faith crippled my soul for most of my life. My heart is hard, and I am unfit for Your service. I am sorry that I never trusted You. Let mistrust end here.
The buzz of conversation faded as Rehaak lost consciousness, but before the darkness overcame him, the Faithful One spoke. “Do not call yourself inadequate. You are the person I set aside for my service. No, my son, what you need is k’harsa. I have forgiven you and called you to lead, and so you must lead. I chose you, and I will restore your heart so you may serve me with confidence. I will be your god, and you shall lead my people.”
Rehaak’s spirit wept for joy as the Creator’s love for him filled his heart, and sealed his covenant. He could continue. Rehaak’s inner conflict, the awkward part of his quest, was behind him now. Peace must wait until later, but after a lengthy search, Rehaak had found the place he belonged, and with it, he discovered a purpose, a family, and a home. He had arrived bruised and broken, but adversity had sharpened his wits and strengthened his will, and he would be forever grateful for his family and his home.
The Saga Continues
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Nocturne
Chapter One
Mato
Mato raced around the corner of Mirtle’s Inn, his heart thundering in his chest as he entered the mill yard, but he dared not stop for breath. He hoped he could lose his pursuers among the maze of log piles.
His father’s men sweated and strained in the summer heat while they moved the massive logs to the mill and stacked the boards and timbers. The noise of their labor didn’t drown out his pursuers’ thundering footfalls. Their footsteps echoed like drumbeats through the dusty mill yard. I must make it home before they catch me, or I’m done for this time.
Each breath stung and burned in his throat. His heart hammered against his breastbone as rapidly as hummingbird wings. Nearing the limit of endurance, he raced past the stacked logs in front of the sawmill, toward River Road, home, and safety.
He streaked homeward, past the inn’s woodshed, and headed down the alley toward the trail to Dun Dale and safety. His feet raised clouds of red dust as he skidded around a last corner. Workmen paused from their labors and watched the pursuit of a small fellow by two others as they thundered past. Both the little fellow’s pursuers towered over him by and outweighed him by at least two stone.
One laborer looked up from the log he and his partner had just hefted onto a wheeled cart, and spat into the swirling dust, as the trio thundered past. The pursuers, hulking brutes, with almost identical stubble covered undershot jaws, long hairy arms, and sloping foreheads gained on their smaller prey.
“Well, Flin, What’cha reckon the little bookworm done this time to get Radik and Ogun so riled?”
“Like as not he cheated them again an they got wise to it, Ferl. They looked set to give him a new set o’ bruises though. If he be smart, he be headin’ home to hide ‘hind his momma’s skirts.”
“Their Pa aint’ no help… eggin’ ’em on like he do. Says competition builds character, he do. Ain’t hardly fair to the youngest, no wonder his Ma coddles him.”
“Yup, but that only makes it worse fer Mato—He’s a crafty little bugger. Maybe he’ll talk his way out o’ a beatin’.” Flin stroked his chin in mock thoughtfulness.
“Would you care to put money on that?” Ferl elbowed his buddy and raised his eyebrows.
“Nope, I works too hard fer it, not gonna lose it on a fool’s wager.
Once the victim and his pursuers disappeared around the corner, the men returned to work. Common sense meant they wouldn’t interfere in a family matter.
Flin paused and prodded Ferl in the ribs when the sound of the chase stopped abruptly. “Mark my words. Ramya’s family ’ll come to grief…sure as day follows night.”
To be continued: