Caleb's Journey

Awakening

“

No!” The young woman

awoke in the dark of night, emitting a piercing shriek. A heavy, dripping sweat covered her body, causing her white night shirt to cling to her young, slender feminine form. “It’s gone!” She screamed. “Somebody has stolen Uua’s Tear! We must get it back!” Breathing heavily, she sat upright in her dark oaken bed and began to sob loudly putting her hands to her face as she openly wept and the pace of her heart quickened

This presently emotionally devastated female made her residence in the Grand Church of Light in Bral, the capital city of the Golden Realm. In that splendid city, she served in the capacity of the church’s emissary to the king, advising him in spiritual matters, a high honor indeed. Truthfully, some members of the church were rumored to resent her for occupying such a lofty position at her young age. At the mere age of twenty-two, her rise to prominence stemmed from her inexplicable and powerful connection to Uua. A connection some doubted and others resented.

The Order of Light, the high council of the church, noticed her bond while Candellah was still quite young. All of the clergy have an ability to commune with the higher power in a very limited fashion, but none had such a link as her, for it far exceeded the talents of others. This gift manifested itself at an early age for as a little girl, while playing outside, she came upon a wounded bluebird. Her heart ached for the injured creature and she felt compelled to touch the little fowl. By the laying of hands on the bird, she healed its broken wing, but told nobody of the event.

Tales of her communing with the divinity spread far beyond the reaches of her small village and soon authorities of the church came to her modest village to investigate these stories. The Order of Light took special notice of her, marveling not only at her great talent, but with the positive effect that she had on others. When she attended church services, the ranks of the attendees swelled with people eager to catch a glimpse of the blessed prodigy.

While the high priests scrutinized at her gift, her growth in the church arose from the almost magical effect that she had on people. This insightful, extremely kind-hearted woman went through life profoundly touching the lives of others by the kindness that she exhibited. She adored flowers and was known to frolic in them with the children. After each mass she picked a family with whom to dine and then explained the joy of Uua to that family. She cared for others animals with her magical powers, limited though they might be. Oftentimes, she wept when she learned that a person was ill. Then, she traveled to that person’s home to pray for them and endeavored to heal them. Sometimes she succeeded, but more often than not, her prayers and efforts only soothed the family, but produced no tangible outcome.

In her short time she had spent a great deal of time, affecting the lives of others with her compassionate nature. Her jubilance, wide-eyed innocence, determined spirit, and bright exterior embodied her internal makeup. Externally she had silky blond hair, expressive, wide brown eyes that seemed to devour the world, medium height and a slender build. Her name, Candellah, suited both her interior and exterior.

The young woman’s scream woke Sister Miksa, who occupied the next room over. Miksa, a middle-aged matronly type with a fuller figure, a smooth, round face, and short, straight brown hair quickly roused herself from slumber. She raced down the hall, candle holder with lit candle firmly in hand and burst into Candellah’s room without hesitation to check on her friend.

“

Candellah, what is the matter?”

“Uua’s Tear….(sniff)…..it’s…..gone.”

“

Uua’s Tear? Child, that artifact is nearly forgotten and as I understand it, safely and securely guarded. Hidden in a secret, secure place,” the older woman spoke in soothing tones, “I am sure it is fine.” Her countenance became more pleasant as she continued, “Relax. It’s nothing more than a bad dream. You’ve had a dreadful nightmare, perhaps, but no more than that. I sense nothing amiss.” With warm tones she added, “Return to your rest, all is well.”

While Candellah gave her elder’s words consideration, in her heart she felt that she knew the truth. “Sister Miksa, it’s gone, I just know it. Why, I don’t know, but I know that someone has taken it.” Having given her thoughts utterance she buried her face in her hands and began sobbing. The gravity of what she believed to be true weighed heavily upon her. Her innate senses directly contradicted the words of her friend.

Miksa walked across the flower of the small, tidy bedroom and sat on the bed next to Candellah. She placed a warmed hand on the younger woman’s shoulder and continued her attempt to soothe her. “We all sense things and see visions in our dreams. I know, I see them as well. Some come to pass and others never materialize. If something so drastic as the theft of this legendary item had come to pass, while my powers pale in comparison to your own, I have no doubt that I would have sensed it as well.”

Typically, Candellah demonstrated a deferential and non-argumentative nature. In this instance her strong, but understated will exerted its influence in her reply, “Miksa, I’ve always felt some special attachment to this world. When it hurts, when things happen to it, it affects me. I’ve never felt so much sadness and pain at any given moment as I did in my dream and that pain lingers. I just know that somebody has taken the amulet for what I can only speculate is a sinister purpose.” Folding her arms a look of consternation showed on what had only moments ago been a tear-stricken face. Her blonde-crested brow furrowed and she spoke with a quiet, but firm resolve, “Tomorrow, at dawn, I’ll go to the Luminarch and tell him what has happened. He’ll order a detachment of soldiers to assist me and we’ll retrieve what has been stolen.”

Some people have a great sense of purpose and a fierce determination to achieve whatever task to which they set their willful minds. They attain greatness, not by the benevolent, random powers of fortune, but rather by the potency of their indomitable spirit which drives them to perform great feats. Candellah was one such person. Conversely, Miksa was not. Instead, she sort of floated on through life, ruffling no feathers and trying to smooth the feathers of the ruffled. She shied away from anything that even had the slightest hint of danger or trouble or adventure.

“

My lady,” spoke the cautious elder, “if what you say is true and I suggest you reconsider your belief, it is indeed a matter of great weight.” She raised a plump finger, “Our duty lies in reporting it to those

more, ahem, suited for such things.” Now, her nervous eyes shifted about. She had no desire to meet the gaze of one so resolute. Casting her head downward, she meekly continued, “It’s just that whoever performed such an evil deed must have great powers. Few know the location of the sacred artifact, we don’t know it, and fewer still have the means and might to

retrieve i Who are we to try and recover it? Neither of us, my sweet child, has seen any sort of combat.” Now she shook her head, “Candellah, it’s just not our way.”

There are those who, when faced with the prospect of a dangerous situation, let logic dictate their course of action. Many still are overtaken by emotion and instinct and those two constitute the influencing hand of direction towards an outcome. Candellah counted herself among the latter, possessed of a desire to prove her mettle in the face of adversity and to take an active role in restoring a lost treasure of the church. She also had a bit of a latent adventurous spirit that she sought to keep confined due to her chosen calling.

Resolute in her course of action, she gave her reply, tinged with a hint of delight, “My dear Miksa I cannot ask you to imperil your life. For me, I know that I’ll never have another chance to render such a service to Mithkre and Uua. Oh to think of it! To actually go on a quest!” Her brown eyes grew wider and more expressive. Her voice became louder. She actually unintentionally freed herself of Miksa’s friendly bonds and bounded off of the bed, “Here’s my opportunity to repay what has been given to me! She must have a purpose in having these events transpire. What an adventure! I trust in Her that all will be well.”

An expressionless look took shape on Miksa’s face. Stupefied, she knew not how to respond. In but a few mere moments she had witnessed her steady companion travel from one extreme of the emotional spectrum to the other. Candellah, having awakened in a gripping fright now seemed determined that she must somehow save the world. Moreover, she relished the opportunity. Conversely, Miksa had a deep and abiding fear of all things dangerous or potentially painful. If an activity involved the prospect of injury, she found every reason, sound or otherwise to avoid said activity. The presently proposed adventure frightened her to her core. Such is the case with life in that some chose to attack it and others, to merely observe it as it occurs.

Miksa rose from the bed and firmly grasped the brass candle holder that she had placed on Candellah’s nightstand upon entering the room, her thick fingers losing their pink hue and turning to a deep red as her hand encircled the illuminated article. As she rose, Candellah startled her by touching her and gently laying a hand upon her forearm as she asked, “Where are you going?”

“

Child, you can save the world all you like in the morning, but we both need our rest.”

“

What about our plans? We’ve got to have a plan.”

Miksa’s face flushed, ever so slightly, “Our plans? Humph. You need to have your plans. My plan is to accompany you to the palace and nothing more. I doubt they’ll even admit you as you talk nonsense to them, despite your role at court. I’ll not shame myself publicly. Really, child, I sometimes wonder at how much you know about our world. Good night.”

Poof! With a puff of air from a quickly drawn breath Miksa extinguished the candle. Exhibiting an unexpected amount of agility she deftly exited the room and closed the door with nearly the same degree of quickness with which she had put out the candle. Despite the darkness, she made her way down the hall she knew so well and returned to bed for the remainder of the evening.

Meanwhile, alone in the dark sat Candellah. Still, she felt warm and aglow. Left to ponder the possibilities of some heretofore unexpected and unknown crusade overwhelmed the golden-hearted young woman. She found it difficult to lie down, pull the blankets over her body, and to try and sleep. The physical execution of such an action posed little difficulty. The trouble lies in the deluge of half-shaped ideas and the marauding multitudes of questions that danced about inside of her head. As she drifted off to slumber Candellah’s thoughts evolved into dreams that performed in the theatre of her mind as her body rested.