Bloodless

by Roberto Vecchi

  But such was not the case for Intellos. He remained awake well past the hours when even the nocturnally active creatures sought the comfort of their lairs. The mention of the name of Jesus returned him to the vision he had when he was deeply submerged in the presence of the Great Dragon King, Lacorion. Standing there, in front of the all-encompassing divinity, he felt so sure of everything. Even when he was given the mission to find The Scribe, in that moment, he felt no doubt that what was given him was simply a matter of time. But so much had happened since then. So much had been taken from him that he never thought would be taken. Indeed, the very foundations of his identity had been ripped from his soul as if they had been only illusions leaving him stranded and empty in the middle of the desert without an oasis in sight.

  But what was sight now? What could he see for himself and his future? Was it still the same? Was he still tasked with finding The Scribe even though he possessed nothing now of what he did then? When he still had use of his talent, he was convinced he possessed everything he needed to adequately complete the mission he had been given; however, without it, he felt unworthy of completing that which he was given to complete. Such was his self-pity that his mind had not the room to consider these questions until now. But that name, the name of Jesus, had a way of triggering things, focusing things, and allowing things.

  His thoughts, having explored the totality of his doubts and newfound lack of identity and ability, had now settled upon the multiple effects of the woman he had met only a short time ago, but had given more to than those he had known for much longer. In the middle of his spiral, and he was spiraling, she had given him a focus to distract him from the inadequacy plaguing his mind and working its way into his heart. Though he did not possess his magic, he still had his mind and its instinctively developed self-understanding. He knew and fully accepted his self-destructive cycle, but that did not mean he wanted to change it, or even that he could. All it meant was that he knew it and did not care.

  And that was it. She had given him something to care about; something to end his downward progression and, at the very least, level it off. He had been driven by so many external cares and worries that stood great and glorious in their scope that when they had all been dissolved by The Severing, so too had his ambition. You see, he was so used to the impersonal inclusion of goals and deeds far beyond anything mortal or personal that he needed something to catalyze his connection with the smallness of life. And she had been it. But much like any reaction, should the catalyst be removed before it has had adequate time to develop and continue on its own, it would end before it really began. And regardless of his growing, self-spiraling pity, he did not want to end. He wanted to live, to continue, to be. Yet to finish it, he still needed her. However, hope was fleeting in these times. Yet this new encampment provided a continuance to his hope. Yes, they might still be able to catch the Acolytes before the reached their journey’s end, but not without help. So, he placed his hope in the unknown encampment, and in doing so, he was able to find the illusive peace he needed for sleep. So, he slept and waited for dawn to break. For with the dawn of the morning sun rose not just the warmth of the land, but also the warmth of his hope, a hope he needed, a hope they all needed.

  The four of them woke well rested and firmly set on their goal of collecting any and all information the leaders of the encampment might possess regarding the caravan of Acolytes. They decided, against the advice of Intellos, but aligned with the suggestion from Borinth, to approach while carrying their weapons. They would not be brandished, but neither would they leave them behind lest a trap was sprung. By the fairly accurate estimation of Aglascio, who had been well trained by his father, they reached the camp just three miles away. There was already activity as some of the gray robed individuals were seen preparing breakfast. Pots were steaming and pans were sizzling. Judging by the amount of them, they were feeding much more than just the eight and twenty. Borinth was well acquainted with estimating food provisions for large groups along with its preparation and judged they were preparing for an excess of one hundred mouths. Though there was no evidence suggesting the presence of a group that large, Borinth was fairly confident in is estimation.

  As they approached, close enough to be within shouting distance, they began to see, filtering in from the opposite direction, a steady stream of travelers. With closer inspection, they all appeared to be destitute with varying degrees of dirt, grime, and disease covering them. Soundlessly, the stream of people walked through the encampment to its far edge where the food was being produced. They formed a line without any guidance or jostling of position to be first. There were an equal amount of men and woman, children and adults, youths and the elderly present, and all of them appeared to be members of the dredge of society. But they were treated with nothing by the sincerest of warmth and compassion from the men in the grey robes as if they were members of the Royal Family itself.

  The four of them had reached the interior of the encampment and made their way to stand in line with the rest of the gathering people. Though their appearance was much different, they were offered the same treatment as the rest having been treated with the same aspect of worthiness. After the four of them had been served their food and had taken seats next to a family of four, Intellos decided to begin their attempts to gather information.

  “Excuse me, we are travelers on a rather long journey; but I’m afraid we have lost our way. Is there anyone here who can direct us to the nearest town or even village? We have grown unfortunately low on our supplies,” he said.

  “There is not a town or village for a long distance yet. Nor is there a drinkable source of water except that which they provide,” answered the man in between bites.

  “What about the castle we saw?” asked his daughter, a young girl of approximately seven or eight years of age.

  “There is a castle?” asked Borinth.

  “Yes, there is a castle, but it would not be advisable to seek solace from your journey there. Nor would I seek provisions there either,” answered the man.

  “Why is that?” asked Intellos.

  “Because it is evil!” blurted the young girl.

  “That is enough from you, Losucia. Mind your tongue,” said her mother.

  “Evil?” inquired Intellos.

  “I cannot speak to that. But it does have a strange feel about it,” said the man.

  “Was it always like that?” continued Intellos.

  “No. It used to be our home. Well, not the castle, for we are not royalty. But the city around it we used to call ours,” he said as he seemed to sink into the depths of his now empty bowl.

  “What happened?” asked Borinth.

  “We do not speak of such things any longer,” answered the man. “Come, let us go. The morning devotional is about to begin,” he said to his family who dutifully picked up their bowls and followed him.

  “But Drahin, I am not finished yet!” protested the young girl named Losucia.

  “You are never finished,” teased her older brother.

  “Hush you!” retorted Losucia, obviously conscious of being embarrassed in front of new people.

  “Morning devotional?” asked Intellos.

  “Yes. The only price for our food is our attention. And it is a good thing that because we cannot afford anything else. Come, listen, and be fed,” he said.

  The four of them stood up and followed the family, carrying their bowls as they saw the others do. The young girl grabbed Borinth’s hand and said, “You have to wash your own bowl. Follow me. I know the way.” Spurred on by her enthusiasm, no doubt resulting for the presence of new people, she skipped the whole way. About fifty feet away, they saw two large barrels of water. Losucia let go of Borinth’s hand and ran the last ten feet.

  “Here. You have to wash your bowl in this barrel first. And then you have to rinse it off in this one. Like this,” she said as she excitedly demonstrated the correct procedure for cleaning bowls. When she finished, she grabbed Borinth’s
had and said, “Now you try it.” After each of their bowls held up to her inspection, she announced that everyone was ready to walk to the shade tree.

  About one hundred yards away, standing as a lone stoic warrior who had seen more than his share of life’s storms was a single, tall oak tree. Its branches were tall and wide reaching as far horizontally as they did vertically. Its trunk was larger than most other oak trees any of the men had ever seen. Its leaves were full, green, and thick providing more than adequate shade from the brightness of the late rising sun’s rays. They saw that everyone else was also walking over to the tree. Borinth estimated the final count of people who had been served to exceed two hundred and fifty hungry mouths. As they approached, they could see there were no formal seats, but that did not stop anyone of those fed from attending as each of them seemed more than happy to sit on the plush grass. After everyone had been satisfied with their spot, a single man stood up and walked to the front of the gathering near the base of the tree.

  He turned around, looked up to the sky, and spread his arms, palms out. He paused as if in contemplation. Shortly thereafter, he lowered his head, opened his eyes and spoke, “Before there was the land we walk upon, the stars we sleep under, or the sun that rises in the eastern sky; before the first of us breathed the freshness of the newly created air and held the hand of divinity itself, there was love. This Perfect Love looked into the vastness of Himself and saw the fabric of reality He would create. His sole motivation: to share Himself with those He would name His children. For in Him was a dynamic and continually flowing river of ever sustaining love that could not be denied. So, He breathed and spoke. And out of His words came the dirt, seas, water and wind. Indeed, all that which was necessary for us to live abundantly was born from Him and Him alone. Armed with nothing more than His identity driven faith powered by His insurmountable love, He spoke, and the world became. Once this garden of perfection was completely fashioned, resting in wait to be experience by His children, He created us. Men, Elves, Dwarves, Orcs, Ogres, indeed, all the races graced with lives to touch their feet upon the ground, arms to swim in the seas, and eyes to behold the splendor of the Sun, were all given part of His very Breath of Life. As such, we were then, are now, and forever will be, equally worthy of His grace.

  “But in the eyes of mortality rested the potential for judgment. And with judgment comes jealousy. Out of jealousy is born division, and from division breathes hate. It was this potential that inspired a second presence, a presence of darkness, to exert its deceptive influence. For its only goal, standing in amazing contrast to that of He Who Created All, is nothing more than destruction through its replication. And while we were created from a love-powered faith, he who deceives would seek to destroy though his hate filled illusions. Insidiously, he crept into the minds of men through what the eyes were allowed to see. And what gains entrance to the mind through the eyes eventually seeps into the heart. And once in the heart, the very soul is polluted. So, we left our glorious covering of grace and love and were deceived to believe in the illusions of self-professed entitlement. We questioned His love, preferring to utilize our own limited logic as the defining point of reason. We questioned, we judged, and we fell.

  “We turned our backs on our Creator and worshiped other gods, other feelings, other aspects of life seeking to place our worthiness in them. And in our idolatry, we lost the greater truth of Him - that we were created for no other reason than to feel loved every day of our lives by the Greatness of God. We were created to feel an overwhelming worthiness without connections to anything apart from Him. Indeed, we were created to be loved, and then to love.

  “As lost as we were, we were not forsaken to live the darkened life of the whims of every subjective emotion. We were not abandoned to our own disbelief, and we were not suffered to breathe the thickened air of pain and neglect. For He Who Was and Who Will Always Be, is still with us, even if we are not with Him. So, out of his complete Love that knows no conditions or endings, He left his divine existence and created Himself in the very same way He created us; through His Love. He created Himself to be one of us, one of mortality, to feel everything we feel, to live the way all of us live, so that He could bear all of our sins. So, he could bear them and render the price of our transgressions as paid in full.

  “But it was not a simple life He lived. The darkness was not without its own resolution. Steeped in his rage propelled hate, this presence of evil, this Satan, exerted his control over mortality and resisted. The divinely descended man, the Son of God Himself, inspired hearts to change, minds to believe, and the eyes of the soul to see. He led a return to the Love of God, and for that, He was whipped, beaten, and bled. At the height of His influence, He was ridiculed and crucified. He died, and Satan thought he had won. Believing he had condemned all of mortality to rest inside his realm of pain and torture, he accepted God as Man into his realm of hell. This man named Jesus, stepped through the gates of liquid hate and for three days felt the totality of condemnation for the summation of our sins. He carried the burden of us all. Then, on the third day, while Satan and his evil hordes were still celebrating their victory over God, while the demons and other denizens of lost souls were joyously dancing, God moved.

  “Having gained entrance into the realm that stood to separate mortality from divinity, He raised his mighty hand, inspired by His endless faith in the power of His unyielding love, and split the vale that stood to separate each of us from all of Him. As His hand cut straight through the very control of Satan himself, Jesus stood in complete defiance to hate and rage. Glowing as if the sun had risen from his own eyes, He rose from darkness and into the Light. He rose and rolled away the stone covering his tomb. No longer was He subjected to the condemning admonishment of sin and death. And because he bore all of our sins with him, neither are we.

  “But our inclusion into His realm of Heaven is not automatic. Though He did pay the cost for us, we still need to receive it. We still need to reach out our hand and grasp the redemption He has promised for us. Already qualified, all we need to do is accept Him into our hearts, once again, and speak it into existence the same way He spoke each of us into existence. For through speech is the power of faith extended from the spiritual into the mortal. So, I ask each and every one of you present here today, is it your wish to receive your inclusion into the Body of Jesus, the Christ, our Messiah and Lord Who Will Return again? Is it your wish to be redeemed? If it is, I would ask you to stand up as a reflection of the defiance Jesus displayed as He rose from the dead to defeat death and Hell itself. Rise now! Stand now! Stand and claim your acceptance! Claim it and be redeemed for all time!”

  At the completion of his speech, both Uuntule and Aglascio stood up without hesitation and started walking toward the base of the tree, tears streaming down both of their faces. Intellos watched them, but his eyes were drawn to many others who had mimicked their actions. Those answering affirmatively formed a line in front of the speaker taking turns to standing before him. As they did, he place his hand upon their heads and spoke a few words to them, each time the person indicated his or her agreement. After a few more words were uttered in unison, the brief conversation was ended by either a hug, handshake, or the person falling from sheer joy. Aglascio and his father returned to their seated position next to Borinth.

  “What was that about?” Borinth asked.

  “Life,” said Uuntule as he wiped his face of tears, “That was about life.”

  Unspeaking, they sat and waiting until the rest of those who had stood up had completed their turns in front of the speaker. Intellos watched each one of them as they returned to their seats. Some of them were shedding tears, some wore broad smiles, and others were walking with their heads bent; however, they all shared one aspect in common. Each one of them, regardless of anything else, shared a reflection of peace in their eyes.

  When the last person had sat, the speaker moved to the base of the tree again, faced the crowd, raised his hands in the air, and spo
ke “Brothers and sisters in Christ, those of you who gave your lives to Jesus, let me be the first to welcome you into His Glorious body. Let us all rejoice and praise Jesus for the miracle He just did!” Hands shot up to the sky, voices raised in thanksgiving, and hearts were opened to praise. Most of those gathered were openly taking part in the celebration; however, there were still those who preferred to remain silent in their worship. After several minutes, the selfless worship subsided. The leader lowered his hands, offered a broad smile to the crowd and said, “Thank you. Once again, may the peace of Christ follow you throughout your travels. Go now. Go now and spread the word of what has happened here today.”

  As the crowd began to disperse, Borinth turned to his companions and said, “Well, if there is someone here who would have information regarding a potential evil, it very well could be him. Let us go introduce ourselves.” He stood and started walking toward the base of the tree where the man was currently standing. As they approached, they had to wait for a moment while he finished shaking hands with a family.

  After saying his final good-byes to them, he turned toward Borinth and his companions, “Welcome, travelers, in the name of Jesus.” Extending his hand toward them, he looked at Borinth and said, “Borinth, is it not?”

  “Yes, it is,” he said as he grasped the man around the forearm. “But I am afraid you have me at a disadvantage. I do not know your name as of yet.”

  “Forgive me, friends. My name is Thendin. Thendin Dorin to be precise,” he said with a broad smile.