The Blackwood (The Door Within Trilogy Book 4)

Aidan Thomas sat on a hill overlooking a valley of rolling grassland bordered in the distance by deep green forest. King Eliam’s Glory had just gone down behind the trees, and the darkling sky above danced with tendrils of blue, purple, azinth, and ril, the latter two, colors that mortal eyes had never seen. The unicorns and woodland lions played and chased as a thin mist began to crawl across the valley. It was pleasantly cool, and a delightful mix of honeysuckle and myrrh scented the air.

Aidan sighed. He’d never felt such contentment. How long had it been? It wasn’t that he couldn’t remember. Far from it, Aidan could vividly recollect every detail of every moment since he’d come to the Sacred Realm. But he could not explain the duration. Time itself had become such a peculiar concept.

A melody whispered, “When we’ve been there ten-thousand years, bright shining as the sun…” That song had been close, Aidan thought. But the ten-thousand years part just didn’t apply any longer. The passing of moments, the relentless ticking of the minute hand, alarms, and deadlines—all so desperately counted on before—were absolutely alien now.

Warmth washed over Aidan, and he smiled.

King Eliam asked, “Are you ready, Aidan?”

“Always ready,” said Aidan. He swung his legs around so he could face the One True King.  “Uhm..ready for what?”

“Why for adventures, of course.” King Eliam wore a dark blue tunic over a billowy, long sleeved great-shirt of pristine white. Charrend, his sword, hung at his side. “You remember my promise, do you not? Adventures…”

“Beyond my wildest dreams,” Aidan finished as if reliving the memory. “I hear your words ringing in my mind. But, King Eliam, you’ve already given me such adventures. Every breath of my life here in the Sacred Realm has been an adventure beyond my wildest dreams. Every day I find new trails to explore, new people to talk to, and new things to do. New sounds, new colors…funny creatures I never would have imagined before. I have leaped from cliffs, flown across skies, swam in the depths of oceans beyond my imagination. More than those, I have begun to explore your castle—that is a never-ending adventure in itself. It’s a very big house with a surprise behind every door. I have played in your fields, I have sung in your courts, and I have dined at your table—even each meal is an adventure. Ah, I am so thankful, King Eliam. No, better than that: I am overflowing.”

The king folded his hands beneath his bearded chin. Then he laughed. And his laughter was like a swift wind in a forest canopy or the roar of a waterfall. He laughed long and hard, and his bright blue eyes glistened when at last he stopped. Then, he said, “Aidan, my cherished son, you are far too easily pleased. Do you not know how long I labored on this place for all of my children…and for you?” He laughed again. “Nay, lad! There is more. There is always more.”

Aidan laughed. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, but you always do surprise me.” Aidan frowned in thought. “It’s strange though. Now that the chains have fallen away, I don’t think of adventures like I used to. It’s hard to explain. Before…there were villains, there were evils, and dangers. There was so much at stake. And now, well…what I mean is, can there really be adventures when I am completely and utterly safe?”

“Tell me, Aidan,” said the king, “when you were in the Realm before Paragor’s ultimate defeat, was there ever a time when you were not utterly safe?”

Aidan’s eyebrows shot upward. “Lots of times! There was the time when I went for the treasure in the labyrinth and Falon almost ate me. Oh, and that time when I was lost in Paragor’s castle and some guards—”

“But all that time, you were still in my hands. You were never alone. Even if you had fallen, what harm could have come to you?”

“I could have died.”

“And you did die, Aidan,” said King Eliam. “…valiantly. But for my children, death has no sting, no lasting bite. Before your final breath ended there, your first breath began…here.”

“I see that now.” He paused and thoughtfully ran his fingers through the lush grass. “But, back then, I didn’t understand. I was afraid of death…even afraid of pain.”

King Eliam nodded knowingly. “And yet…?”

“And yet, I was safe all the time.”

“Yes,” King Eliam replied. “Do you understand why you were afraid?”

Aidan was still very much getting used to the way his mind now worked in the Sacred Realm. It was so easy to make connections and recognize truth. But even so, he thought long and hard before he answered. “There are two answers to that question,” he said at last. “One is that I was afraid because the world I lived in, even my body, was poisoned with evil.”

“Yes, Aidan, and the other?”

“The other reason is that…I didn’t trust you…not completely.”

Something changed in King Eliam’s expression…really just in his eyes. Aidan saw it glint there like sun off of a sword blade dimmed momentarily by a cloud, but then it was gone.

“Trust was elusive at first,” King Eliam said. “But you found a deep, abiding trust in the end.” King Eliam smiled broadly, and for a moment, it was as if a new sun had risen, casting all the land in morning gold.

And Aidan was not ashamed.

He was, however, still very curious. “But so many of our adventures—before—were us going out to defeat evil. But here in the Sacred Realm, there can’t be any evil.”

“No, of course, not,” said King Eliam. “Not here. Evil cannot exist here.”

“Good,” said Aidan. “I don’t want there to be evil. But, when you spoke of adventures just now, beyond what I’ve experienced so far, you seemed to speak of something different. If not the sort of adventures we had in the Old Realm, then what?”

King Eliam smiled. “Aidan, you know I am so very fond of stories. You have been here but a glimmer of glory, and you have only just begun to realize the palette from which your imagination may now create. You have not yet begun to guess at the size of the canvas upon which new stories may be told. Adventures await…Sir Aidan.”

“I guess I’m ready,” said Aidan. “What sort of thing did you have in mind?”

“I was going to ask you that very question, Aidan.”

“Me?”

King Eliam winked and there was a hint of playfulness in his frosty clear blue eyes. “When I asked you just now if you were ready for adventure, what made you think it would be something created solely by me and solely for you?”

Aidan blinked and found his thoughts swimming in circles. He stood up and brushed a few errant flower petals from his tunic to give his thoughts time to coalesce. “Uhm…” Aidan mumbled, “I…uh…” So much for the whole coalescing thing.

“I create, and all of my children draw their individual nature from me. So, in a myriad of ways, every single one of you is endowed with a desire to create and a measure of the skills to do so. This truth is amplified here. In your eternal home, each one performs the task he was born to do, the thing that fulfills him like no other activity ever could. Some teach. Some make music. Some perform athletic feats. Some build. And there is no end to the pleasure my children give to me by doing what they do best. Come with me, Aidan, and, if you have not already guessed it, I will show you, what you do best.”

Thrill percolated in Aidan’s veins. He stretched and flexed the muscles in his neck and shoulders.  Then, he asked, “Can we fly?”

King Eliam nodded. “Shall I summon Gabby?”

Aidan shook his head. “I meant the other kind.”

“If it pleases you,” said King Eliam, and his face began to glorify. The blue in his eyes twinkled more brightly. His long white hair and beard shone like snow under bright sun. And his skin glowed warm with gold. “Follow my Glory,” said the One True King. “If you can keep up.”

There was a sound like clarion horns and thunder. The king was gone, but a sparkling trail of gold raced away from the hilltop, looping and curling far, far into the unknown distance.

“Ha, ha!” Aidan yelled. He charged toward the edge of the hill where the ground sloped suddenly, hundreds of feet down. But there was no fear. His legs blurred beneath him, and his arms pumped too quickly to be seen. He reached the edge of the hill and dove into the air.

[Insert Hiatus Marks]

King Eliam led Aidan past the farthest borders Aidan had yet explored and much farther still. The shimmering trail of gold went on and on, and Aidan followed. At last, he approached a strange sight. A single castle tower sprouted from the peak of a snow-covered mountain. And beyond it lay an undulating sea of gray. But it was not a sea in the sense Aidan was used to. In fact, it was not water at all, just whirling surging gray.

“Do you see, Aidan?” King Eliam asked. Aidan still couldn’t see the king, but his voice was as clear as it would be if the king flew right beside Aidan. “Do you understand?”

“I…I think so,” Aidan replied, slowing to a hover. “It will become real?”

“Yes.”

“And I can create a story…a story about anything?”

“It is my power that creates, but it will be your story. And, Aidan, I cannot wait to see it.”

“In that case,” said Aidan, soaring a loop around the king’s golden path. “I think I could use a little help.”

“I thought you might,” said the king. “Look once more.”

Aidan was now very close to the castle tower, and as he circled around it, he saw that there was a broad balcony on the far side. Upon the balcony stood King Eliam and two others. One was a young, handsome man with blond hair and piercing green eyes. The other was a young woman wearing a purple tunic. Her long, strawberry blond hair drifted with the breeze, and her large blue eyes followed Aidan all the way to the balcony.

“It’s about time,” said Robby.

“We’ve been waiting,” said Antoinette.

Author’s Note: I’ve often thought the popular concept of heaven is absurd. As if Christians might spend eternity flopping around on clouds or strumming away on harps! The purposeful God who created all things in seven days has been at work, designing our home for two-thousand years. We’re told that no eye has seen, no ear has heard of the glory He is preparing. I am convinced it will be adventures beyond our wildest dreams. Speaking of dreams, this epilogue was inspired by one of my fondest daydreams. In the dream, I sit on a hillside at dusk (like Aidan in the story), and Jesus himself comes to me. And HE actually wants me to create something for HIM. It thrills me to think that might be possible. It is, after all, what I do now: I create for Him. More than any accolades, awards, sales figures, and bestsellers, I desperately want to please the One True King with my stories. Whatever you do, do it all for the Glory of God.

-Wayne Thomas Batson, Spring 2013