But as Tyran’s arms slowly released him, Ochi realized the intimacy of their embrace had become one last tragic divergence. Tyran’s red, lost, and distant eyes searching the ground proved it to him. Looking over his son’s shoulder, Ochi saw his cedar box opened and turned over on the ground where Tyran had been standing.
“Do it, Tyran,” Father Prodido called out.
“I’m sorry, Kala,” Tyran whispered under his breath as he lunged forward and stabbed his unresisting father in the chest.
Falling to his knees, his hands over his broken heart, Ochi stared up at his son’s pained and grieving face. At that moment, he did not see a monster who was too far gone or damaged beyond repair. He instead saw the little boy who used to follow him and imitate his every move, but whose original goodness had become so obscured he could no longer see it for himself.
Ochi reached for his son’s bloody hand and repeated his own father’s words.
“I love you and forgive you, son,” Ochi said, laboring to speak. “Find the … ”
The body of Numa and Sophia’s son collapsed backward into the labyrinth. His bloodied arms extended outward and splashed in the flow on each side. A cloud of blood moved through the crystalline waters away from Ochi’s body.
“Tyran! No! What did you do!” Thura screamed as Odigo held her back with all of his strength.
Falling to his knees on the bloodied grass, Tyran pulled his father’s lifeless body onto his lap and stared into his eyes.
All around, chaos and pandemonium ensued. Instinctually detecting the void in leadership, Father Prodido marched across the inset stones forming the rays extending from the labyrinth’s outer circle. He barked for the Patridian guards to cleanse the village by fire and eliminate every person in Salome. The guards rushed from hut to hut with their torches, setting everything ablaze and cutting down everyone in their path. The religious leader looked around wildly to locate Thura, who he saw run in between two inflamed huts with Odigo.
“Get the boy,” Father Prodido barked at Fovos. “Leave the girl for me.”
With no detectable sense of urgency, the religious leader walked through the flames, calling out for Pali and Machi to seize Sophia, who was standing behind Tyran with her hand placed on the young man’s bowed head.
“Thura!” the religious leader shouted amidst the chaos as he picked up a torch and walked between the huts. “Your brother killed your father, not me! I am not the monster here. He is. I just want to talk to you.”
The wind howled as Father Prodido walked into the open and unfamiliar space behind the village. The backdrop behind the religious leader appeared as if the village’s flames were emanating from his pitch-black figure. On Father Prodido’s left side, he heard a struggle and recognized Fovos’ voice shouting at Odigo but did not hear Thura’s. Continuing to walk patiently in that direction, he supposed she had to be nearby.
“Thura!” Father Prodido called out again. “Your running is futile. There is nowhere for you to go and no one left here but you and your grandmother. Even your little friend Odigo is dead now. Come talk to me, Thura.”
Flashing his torch madly from side to side, Father Prodido saw the figure of a young woman standing by herself where the ground ended and faded into a dark void.
“Looks like you have blood on your hands, young lady,” Father Prodido said as he approached, his flame aglow on Thura’s body. “Is it not tragic how your one decision to flee Patrida has led to the ruination of so many.”
Thura stood in front of the religious leader, holding back tears without saying a word.
“But alas,” said Father Prodido, “all darkness has been exposed to the light. The Lord certainly continues to provide on this day.”
Fovos ran up wildly from behind the religious leader, yelping like a hyena, as Pali and Machi approached with a nonresistant Sophia.
“Those are the most truthful words you have ever spoken,” Sophia said, who had been close enough to hear what the religious leader said to Thura. “The darkness has finally been exposed to the light.”
“Silence!” Father Prodido shouted, turning toward the old woman.
“She’s right,” Thura interrupted. “How you understand darkness and light is twisted! There is nothing good in controlling people with fear! And there is absolutely nothing holy in using power and threats to manipulate people for your own purposes. You are a monster!”
“Enough of this heresy!” Father Prodido screamed. “Grab her!” “No! You are going to listen to me for once,” Thura yelled, undeterred by Prodido’s threat. “My father was going back to guide Patrida along a different path. And he knew the only thing that could bring Patrida back to life was love. Not fear! Not control! Not threats! Not you!”
“Enough!” Father Prodido demanded.
“You enslave people!” Thura shouted louder. “You make them bitter and angry and divisive! My father was going back to undo the damage you have done to those people! He knew it would cost him his life, but he wanted them to know real peace and freedom!”
“Yet, here we stand, don’t we? Your wayward and apostate father died in vain chasing after God knows what. And now, you are going back to Patrida to die in vain as well,” Father Prodido said in disgust, but then started laughing maniacally. “Your little idealistic fantasy is burning in flames while Patrida alone rises as the holy community of this island. Everything you have pursued has been wasted.”
“It may appear that way, but tell me, which flame burns with more intensity?” Sophia asked aloud, commanding the attention of both the young woman and the religious leader. “The flames of these temporary huts or Salome’s fire now burning within you, Thura?”
Before the young woman even had a chance to answer the question, Father Prodido turned toward the old woman with hostility, his face ablaze from the distant inferno.
“The flames of your village burn with more intensity, you blind fool!” the religious leader screamed, pointing to the destruction.
“It burns brighter in me,” Thura said, disarming Prodido with her quiet response that cut through the whipping winds. “This fire will never be extinguished by you or your hateful religion. There is something good in me. There always has been.”
The religious leader charged the young woman and grabbed her delicate wrist. But rather than resisting, Thura pushed back violently into her aggressor’s chest, causing him to lose his footing and fall to the ground. As she watched the religious leader scramble helplessly and pathetically in the dark to regain his position, Thura looked up one last time and caught the peaceful and approving gaze of the old woman.
“I love you, Sophia,” Thura said, slowly falling backward off the cliff into the charcoal expanse.
As the young woman dropped toward the ocean, Father Prodido’s screams quickly faded into oblivion. With her hair blowing wildly, wind wisping all around her, a rush of adrenaline shot through her body. Before hitting the water’s hard surface, Thura thought of her father’s death, but then of Tyran falling to his knees and holding him.
Thura hit the surface with significant impact, submerging without movement. As she floated beneath the water, the young woman suspended in slow motion with the graceful appearance of a ballerina, her hands and delicate fingers above her head, her dress swaying from the force of the current above.
After nearly a minute underwater not moving, Thura opened her eyes. Her lungs burned like fire. The young woman began kicking her legs violently as she held her breath to the surface. Gasping for air and splashing her arms to keep her head above water, Thura saw the faint flicker of what must have been Father Prodido’s torch as he peered over the edge in stunned disbelief.
The unrelenting waves crashed over Thura’s head, taking her under and burying her each time. She knew immediately something was not right with her, as she felt like she was going in and out of consciousness. Each time her head surfaced, she desperately gasped for more air. One moment she would temporarily have awareness and see a light moving
above her, but the next moment she went dark.
“Thura!” Father Prodido called out from above. “Thura! Are you there? Can you hear me?”
Thura went below the water but then surfaced again, coughing and gasping because she could not get enough air. The young woman went under, again and again, only to come back up for the last time hyperventilating.
“Thura! Are you alright?” a voice shouted as the young woman opened her eyes in terror, attempting to focus on the flickering fluorescent swaying directly above her.
Thura’s eyes then began to dart around frantically at the dirty bathroom and then at her legs, her arms, and the rest of her body submerged below the full bathtub. Still desperate to find her breath, she began to touch her face and head searchingly as if to find the cause of her panic. Finally reaching behind her right ear, the young woman ripped off a small, white module attached to her skin and threw it across the room. Splashing uncontrollably and screaming, Thura attempted to get out of the water.
“Thura, it’s okay. It’s okay,” the young man said.
Confused and trying to make sense of her situation, Thura lunged out of the bathtub as if there was still an imminent threat surrounding her. As she fell face down onto a clean, white towel, the young woman began to cry inconsolably and breathe heavily.
“It’s okay, Thura. You’re back, you’re back,” the young man said.
Thura raised her head and stared at the square, white tile floor, her red hair dripping wet, attempting to ascertain what she had gone through.
“How long was I out?” Thura asked, still gasping for air and crying but slowly putting things together.
“Fifteen, twenty minutes max,” the young man said. “What happened? What did you find?”
“I don’t know how to describe it, Odigo,” Thura said, as she sat up and looked into the young man’s dark, compassionate eyes. “It was horrible, just horrible. But it was also the most profoundly beautiful thing I have ever experienced in my life. There’s no way to put it into words. No one could ever comprehend what I just went through. No one could possibly understand unless they experienced it for themselves.”
NAME MEANINGS
GREEK ( ANCIENT / MODERN ) T O ENGLISH
patrída: fatherland
páli: fight
máchi: battle
óchi: no
thura: open door of opportunity
prodido: betray
tyran: tyrant
phémi (Fayme): effective contrasts which illuminate
phóbos (Fovos): fear
vélo (Velos): veil
monon: only way
odigó: guide
sophia: wisdom
dipsaó (Dipsa): to thirst
kalá: good
pneuma (Numa): spirit, breath, wind
kaleō: to call, to invite
salōme: shalom, peace
edó: here
tóra: now
aléthés: undeniable reality, what can’t be hidden
For more information about Brandon Andress, or to contact him for speaking engagements, please visit www.BrandonAndress.com
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