by Jeremy Finn
The light cast by the rhema pierced the watery shroud around him just enough that he thought he could make out a dark form cutting silently between the massive tree trunks. In an instant, James tried to reach out with his mind and feel his rhema. It seemed as if he was going to get the chance to practice after all. Hopefully that was all this was – how could he be sure? Either way, he concluded, he better make the absolute best of it.
Just when he expected to see the running form flash into full view through the curtain of mist, it dashed to the side and was lost behind a tree. Silence followed for an awful second or two, and then a sound drew James’ attention above. It was not really a sound but more like a feeling that the air above him was compressing on his eardrums. He dashed to the side and threw his hands above his head just in time to deflect a dark body falling through the air toward him. The shock of the collision knocked him to the ground from where he could see a human form wrapped in tight, black clothing had fallen next to him with his liquid black sword drawn. James jumped to his feet and lifted his own sword, but before he could move toward the slowly recovering attacker, he caught movement out of the corner of his eye just in time to notice another similar figure jumping out from behind a nearby tree. James pivoted on the ball of his right foot and threw his blade out before him in a wide arc that cut through the air with a sizzle and delved the approaching enemy in two at the waist.
By this point, the initial attacker regained his senses and attempted to hack off James’ feet at the ankles from his position on the floor of the forest. James jumped to avoid the cut, but had to react to another rushing attacker who was already upon him. He had just enough time to make a feeble yet barely effective block with one hand on the hilt of his rhema and then use his other hand to grab a hold of the attacker’s coat at the chest and use his momentum to send him tumbling down onto the first attacker still attempting to rise to his feet. Again, though, before he could finish either of them, two more came charging toward him with blades held high. James threw them off by charging toward them just as they were closing the distance, and reached both before they were able to bring their swords down on him. He crashed into them and quickly turned, grasping his sword with both hands and bringing it down powerfully into the backside of a pair of the black-wrapped legs. The man’s torso fell backwards and landed on top of his severed legs. As he turned to face the other man, he darted behind a tree to elude James. James held his sword before him and attempted to round the tree and face his opponent, but the enemy seemed to be playing a childish game by circling around the tree to avoid him. This brief delay drew too much of James’ attention, and he paid the price when he suddenly felt a bolt strike him in the back and shoot through his stomach. Looking down, he saw an evil black blade protruding from his midsection and embedded in the tree before him.
Before the pain could completely register in his mind, everything began to fade. The very real feeling in his gut, the fog of the forest, and the bodies lying in heaps around him dissolved rapidly. In an instant, he was standing in the garden again, and Arcturas was resting on a rock nearby.
“You started off well,” he said, “but you quickly forgot to use the advantage of your rhema.”
“I don’t know,” James puzzled and paused to catch his breath. “I think I felt a little of what you were talking about. I mean I almost sensed that guy coming down out of the trees on top of me, but then the fight was intense with so many coming at me at once and I had to focus on one at a time.”
Arcturas stood and replied, “That is true, you had to focus on one at a time because you were limiting yourself to your own abilities. If you open yourself to your rhema, it will guide you and allow you to react in ways you would never be able to on your own. You must meditate on this more and face this trial often.”
“More!” James exclaimed. “I don’t know what else I can puzzle out on my own. Shouldn’t you teach me some swordsmanship or something?”
“This is why you must meditate and train. You do not understand yet. I will teach you some forms, but understanding is much more important.”
With this, Arcturas retired to the little house, and James was left to contemplate in the endless night once more. For what must have been weeks thereafter, James continued to sit and rack his mind for understanding. Sometimes he would be drawn back into the garden and face the same trial again. Although he seemed to be making some progress by staying alive longer and killing more enemies, Arcturas remained unsatisfied. The guardian also took time to run through some forms with him, and even spent long hours training him in the regional language to build on the very basic foundation James learned over the year he lived here.
One night, as his thoughts drifted astray during another long session of meditation, Arcturas surprised him as he approached silently. The guardian’s vivid image appeared in the pond alongside the reflection of the clear moon hanging in the deep night sky.
“Will I ever learn enough to be prepared for this mission?” James asked doubtfully as he turned toward the being. “I mean, I don’t feel like I am improving, and even if I was, how could I ever be trained enough to face people and…things that have trained their whole lives?”
“That is the point,” Arcturas explained. “You will never be prepared to face them and you can never achieve the skill of many of the dark ones. But in this impossible dilemma comes the answer to your struggles – you must learn not to rely on yourself and gain your confidence through your assessment of your own abilities. You fail because you have not let go of your reliance on yourself and trusted in the Light to guide you and strengthen you.”
“You make it sound so easy,” James said with a sigh. There was a brief silence as James wondered what he was missing. His thoughts drifted to the Intercessor as he wondered what was happening to him at the hands of the rebel servants. “If servants look to the Light to guide them and the Light is a universal form, why have some of the servants at Hanasan Hold turned against the Intercessor and DaNyang? Don’t they all follow the same Light and act under its guidance?”
Arcturas walked slowly to the edge of the small, lotus-strewn pond and gazed across its surface. “This is the weakness of the Light in men. While it is true that there are impostors in our ranks who have not the Light in them, the real damage comes with the many others who are truly servants, but who fall under the charisma and temptations of those evil intruders. They are drawn away from the pursuit of the Light in purifying the world and lured into ceremony and hierarchies that convolute the purpose of the Light and do little good for the world while feeding their leaders insatiable hunger for power and control.”
“What do you mean by ceremony and hierarchies?” James asked. “I mean, Hanasan had hierarchy with the Intercessor and the chief servants, and there was at least some ceremony in the dinner I attended. Is this part of the evil you are talking about?”
“No, in the hands of men who are able to resist the lust for power, these are habits that strengthen the servants. It is their perversion that endangers the cause of the Light. This you have witnessed yourself when you returned to Hanasan with Lomas. Many of the chief servants have developed a desire for authority that has blinded them to their role as servants. That is, after all, why men have taken the name of Servants of the Light. In order to wield the Light, one must serve it. In order to lead others in this cause, one must be the paragon of humility. I am afraid that in the case of Hanasan, and thus the Servants of the Light in this my city, pride has torn them asunder and drawn a few to unimaginable compromise.”
“Then is the Light finished in this city?” James asked with concern as he rose to his feet. “Is there any hope for the Intercessor and the rest who still follow him?”
“There is always hope for a city when even a few remain true servants,” Arcturas said encouragingly. “You, James, are part of that hope.”
“But all I know is that I have to change some politician’s mind about this business with Joshin,” James protested. “What good
will that do for the scattered servants or the Intercessor who is imprisoned in his own hold by servants he once called brothers and sisters?”
“That is why I said you are part of the hope,” Arcturas corrected. “Others are at work to bring about the renewal of the Light here. You may not see how your role fits into the whole picture, but if you are led by the Light, be assured you are fulfilling an essential role in the greater work at hand.”
“Well,” James sighed and continued with a touch of sarcasm, “I guess I’ll spend a couple hours contemplating what you have shared with me. Thanks.”
“On the contrary,” Arcturas said as he paced back toward the house, “You might want to get an early rest. I sense you may be called into the depths of the garden again tonight.”
“What, a warning this time?” James said playfully. “Why are you suddenly being so nice?”
The guardian of Haniang did not reply, but dissipated as he glided back toward the house. James decided he was tired anyways, and took his advice after a draught of cool water from the little spring running into the pond.
He woke so suddenly that he had to wait for his mind to catch up before he was sure he had actually been asleep. The garden was exactly the same, and he could almost believe Arcturas had disappeared into the house just minutes before. He felt the garden calling him once again, so he checked his rhema, rose from the thick blankets on the floor of the porch and strode briskly into the garden.
Everything seemed the same as usual – almost like a recurring bad dream in which you know you are dreaming but cannot do anything to affect the dream’s course. Again the garden turned to forest and the mist began to gather. Just as he began to see the movement of dark shapes in the distance, though, James paused and reflected. He thought about his piece of the puzzle – about getting to this politician and persuading him to listen. As he finally decided to just accept his duty regardless of what sense it made to him, he realized what it meant to let go and allow the Light to lead him.
Fine then, he told himself, I’ll just do the same in here and let go of my attempts to understand the fight.
“You’re in charge,” he told his rhema as he drew it from its invisible sheath and waited for the first attacker to come. He closed his eyes and exhaled as he prepared himself. Then he felt a very tangible presence approaching rapidly on his right. He threw a wide slash out level with his waist and opened his eyes midway through the action. Sure enough, the first attacker was nearly upon him, his sword held high above his head in preparation for a downward thrust. James’ unexpected move took the attacker by surprise, though, and the blazing white rhema halved the dark figure before it could even begin to bring its blade to bear. What followed was a constant melee of murderous swordsmen much like all the previous experiences James endured. This time, though, something was a little different. Perhaps it was that he was growing tired of the same exercise over and over, or maybe he actually finally took to heart what Arcturas had been preaching about the rhema. Regardless, although he felt as if he was not trying or concentrating as hard as he should, the fight was coming more easily to him. Things seemed to flow as if he was a single player in an orchestra who was playing a part that fit naturally into the entire arrangement of instruments and sound. Almost as if he had memorized the music, his moves nearly came naturally to him. Just when he thought he would not know what was coming next, the right move or reaction would pop into his mind so he did not need to distract himself with the future, but could dwell in the immediate present.
Thus, as he danced to the song of the movement around him, bodies fell rapidly and the forest floor became a tangle of limbs and torso segments. Then, one of the attackers pulled a ruse similar to the move that cost him earlier – he ducked behind the cover of a tree in an attempt to allude and distract him. This time, though, James did not try to outmaneuver the enemy or reason a way to trick him into a fight. Instead, he suddenly realized what to do and, grasping the hilt of his blade with both hands, swung his unearthly sword through the massive tree trunk and delved the enemy behind in two without even slowing the speed of his swing. This saved him as the twist of his body allowed him to barely elude a thrust from behind. James turned to face the backstabber, but just as both men squared off, James realized the tree next to the enemy seemed to be slowly moving. His slash decapitated the tree from its base and, as the top of the tall conifer began to pick up momentum in its fall to the earth, its severed base suddenly shot out at an angle and caught the enemy in the jaw. The force of the blow knocked the masked man to the ground and James finished him with a rapid thrust.
For a blessed moment, silence filled the air and James had a fleeting hope he had completed the test. Then out of the mist came a roar that threatened to tear away his confidence as the glowing curtains of haze all around him were suddenly darkened with approaching enemies. With the quick realization that he was about to be surrounded, James leaped up onto the fallen tree now laying on its side and scampered up the inclined trunk held off the ground by its thick branches. The tree was now a ship floating in a sea of moving black figures. Some of them followed him onto the trunk while others threw their swords at him in desperate attempts to cause him to lose his balance and fall into the deadly living whirlpools below. James was able to fend off the men on the trunk since they could only come at him one at a time, but he was still relying on his instinctual feelings for the flow of the battle as he ducked under and swatted away whirling blades cast at him. No matter how many bodies he sent plummeting toward the ground, though, the enemy was making progress by slowly forcing him farther up the trunk. Eventually, James found himself stepping around branches and brushing pine needles out of his face as he reached the top of the slain behemoth. He was standing about seven meters off the ground and rapidly running out of room to retreat. Then, the tree began to jerk erratically. James grabbed onto a nearby branch to steady himself and looked down to find the cause of the movement. The black clothed bodies crowded below him were chopping off large portions of the branches holding the heavy trunk off the ground and providing James with his tenuous sanctuary. He did his best to hold on and fend off the endless line of opponents coming up the trunk, but the swarms below managed to cut off enough branches on one side to destabilize the tree, and all at once they pushed against the remaining branches causing the whole tree to turn on its side.
James could not keep his balance as his foothold turned beneath him. He latched onto a nearby branch, but as the tree rolled and jolted, the branch broke and he fell into the dark mass below. As he was falling, he could see the other dark warriors falling off the tree as well and crashing into their companions. He only had enough time and ability to twist his body so he faced the enemy as he fell, and he lashed out with his sword in a desperate attempt to block any blades hoping to skewer him in his fall. He hit the crowd without suffering any penetrations, but he cracked heads with one man and twisted his knee as he landed awkwardly on top of several others. James tried to jump to his feet, but his sword hand was pinned under a fallen body and his twisted knee buckled painfully leaving him kneeling on the ground with one arm outstretched in a vain attempt to ward off attack. What seemed like thirty oily black blades seemed to rush at him at once, and he knew he was going to experience a new level of pain. Before they pierced him, though, they seemed to turn to smoke and vanish in puffs of black dust against his chest and face. Likewise, the men, tree, and forest around him followed in dissolution. He was kneeling on the ground in the garden and Arcturas was standing beside him. The pain in his knee and head were gone and his rhema glistened on the ground at the guardian’s feet.
“Well done, James,” he congratulated. “You have learned much and are no longer a novice. Will you join me in a meal?”
James accepted with a delayed nod and followed silently behind the guardian as he drifted toward the house. The meal that followed seemed exceptional as Arcturas produced a large clay pot full of chunks of fish and bean sprouts covered with a dark red sa
uce. As James lifted a piece of the fish with his chopsticks, rubbery skin dangled down from the solid white meat and dripped spicy red sauce onto the table. His mouth was on fire in no time, but it was a delicious dish despite the odd consistency and fiery spiciness. While they dined, James took the opportunity to question the aged city guardian concerning some thoughts that had come to him during the long hours of meditation he enjoyed.
“If you don’t mind my asking,” he began after a sip of cool water quenched the fire in his mouth long enough for him to speak, “have you ever seen the Father of Lights?”
“Yes,” Arcturas confirmed. “Malakin have seen him and some even stand in his presence, waiting to do his bidding. No man of this world, however, has directly seen the Father of Lights. This does not necessarily mean you have never seen Him, though. He works through the Malakin, servants, and even the very fabric of this His world to reveal Himself to you. Before you knew of the existence of Malakin, they were involved in your life and influenced you. Servants also play a role in your everyday life. Joe and DaNyang were instruments the Father used to bring you into the Servants. You saw shadows of Him through their welcome and acceptance. Even more fundamentally, you can see him in the world around you. When you stood atop the peak of Hanasan Hold and cast your gaze upon the sun rising in the East, didn’t you see the Father there? Even in the raging storm and seas you suffered through, the Father revealed his power and might, and His mercy too in sparing you to serve Him. Though you may never observe Him directly in physical form while you live here in this world, open your eyes, your ears…all your senses, and you will observe him in a deeper way than you ever could if he merely formed a solid, visible presence before you.”
