Once upon an exiled time, I lived under
the power of a terrible curse which robbed my life of both love and light. The
nature of the curse was this: every morning just before sunrise I died; and
every night I awoke in darkness. My life was void of illumination and warmth.
Strangely, I
did not know the depth of my own despair for because death robbed my days and
darkness blackened my nights, how could I know that such miracles existed as
the faithful rising sun, the purity of color blue or the beauty of a smile?
Still, I felt a sense that there was something missing like bread baked without
salt or the loss of an old, family ring.
Then, on a
day woven on the loom of destiny I saw it—coming from the forest toward me, bobbing
bright and blinding. As it drew near I felt fear at its foreignness. What was
it?
“Hello!” A
voice called flavored with music.
I jumped to
my feet and pulled at my coarse, wool tunic that had knotted itself about my
ankles. “Stop right there!” I demanded fiercely. “Who are you? What is that
terrible thing in your hand?”
She laughed
a light, jovial laugh. “I am Etsmey,” she said. “And this fearsome thing in my
hand is a lantern,” she shook it and the light danced off the bare trunks of
the withering oaks, swept bare with late autumn’s cold.
“What is it
for?” I asked suspiciously.
“For? Well,
to see by of course! I was hunting chestnuts and I won’t be able to find them
in the dark,” she held the lantern aloft and the light caught her angular
features. “You’re not a fool, are you?” she asked curiously, drawing near to
investigate my face.
“Of course
not!” I clipped, brushing a tangled strand of hair from my lip. “I’ve just
never seen one—it makes my eyes hurt to look at it—put it down.”
She lowered
it a little. “You are a strange girl—I’ve never met anyone so strange. Let me
guess, next you’ll be saying you’ve never seen the sun!” Etsmey mused
sarcastically.
I frowned. “What
is that?”
“You’re not
lying to me, are you?” she asked suddenly serious.
“No, I
swear on the darkness I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“The sun is
what gives this land life, it makes the wheat grow, the trees change and
the soil warm. By it we see…well, everything!”
I had heard
of people, poor peasants mostly, who worshiped the different elements: wind,
water and air. I wondered if Etsmey was one of the exiles who practiced these rituals.
“Is the sun your god?” I asked.
She
laughed. “Of course not that would be ridiculous! There is even a greater Light
than the sun and that Light commands the sun like a servant. Why, compared
to the Light the sun’s glow is like the tiniest ember.”
I leaned forward
intrigued. “What is the Light?”
“You mean Who is the Light?” her voice grew
gentler. “He has many names, but my people and I call him Abba,
Father.”
Abba. That
name reached in and touched the darkest, driest places of my
soul as if with a glowing, liquid hand. Something about the idea of a Father
both frightened and fascinated me. “What is he like?” Unconsciously, the
thought of him brought questions on the current of my mind.
Etsmey
sighed wistfully. “He’s a fierce warrior yet he is peace. He’s a lion yet a
lamb. He is the most excellent One—the fairest of all men.”
“How can I
meet Him?”
“You must
ask him to come with his light to touch your eyes to see. Then you will be able
to see him as the rest of my people do.”
“Will it
hurt me?” I asked. “His light I mean...”
Etsmey
considered. “Perhaps a little at first but that will pass. You could ask
him to come now if you want. He can pull back the veil of darkness from your
heart.”
I was used
to the darkness. I’d grown accustomed to it, at times, it even a comforted me.
“Will I
have to walk in light?”
“Naturally,
all his people do.”
I thought
of how Etsmey’s small lantern had hurt my eyes, how much more the One she
called the Light. I shook my head and as I did the feeling of death began to
grip my body, cold and paralyzing as poison. “It must be nearing dawn,” I
thought through the thick heaviness that wrapped itself around my mind. My
legs gave way and then...nothing.
I awoke alone
in darkness. There was no sound. No familiar wind whispering secrets to the shivering
trees. No night owl lording over the forest with his watch. Suddenly,
a cold sweat leapt to my pores and my heart began to pound. I wasn't alone.
“Etsmey? Etsmey,
is that you?” I whispered shakily as my soiled fingers groped for my staff.
“No…it’s
me,” a masculine voice replied on my left.
“Who are
you?”
“One who
will give you your heart’s desires…” he said on my right.
“How do you
know what I desire?” I challenged the darkness.
An amused
chuckle burst from him and echoed through the naked wood. “Correction: desires, for there are many of them. You
desire to no longer be in exile. You desire the curse
removed. But above all, you desire love.”
“How—how do
you know that?” I asked. I had never voiced my longings even to the darkness.
“I know
many things,” he said. “Things about you: your past, your future, your exile,
the curse, even about your enemy.”
I stopped. “Who
is my enemy?”
“One who
would hurt you. His half-witted followers (like your friend Etsmey) think that
he ‘loves’ them. They lead others astray by their deceived doctrines of the ‘light’
he brings. Do you want to know a secret?” He drew nearer and I could feel his
warm breath in my hair as he whispered, “He’s the one who exiled you. He’s the
one who cursed you. Do you want to belong, wandering one?” the voice asked softly,
his strong arms embrace me. It felt good to be in his arms. I could belong
there. “I will take care of you. I will be your father. We can live in my
kingdom and perhaps I will even give you power to rule.”
“Really?” I
asked, intrigued.
“ I promise.”
“Ha! Father
of what lies?” It was Etsmey. Her
small frame stood planted in the clearing holding her lantern. She was glaring
at us, teeth clenched like a wild, barbarian.
“Etsmey,”
he exclaimed like a pleased show master. “I hoped you would join us. I have been
waiting to have a little chat with you.”
“I don’t
want to talk to you,” she snapped. To me she said, “Come on I’m taking you home
with me.”
“Do your
people know what you did, Etsmey?” he asked then clucked sadly. “If they did,
they wouldn’t even want to touch you. Filth is what you are.”
Etsmey
reddened and swallowed. “I’m not that person anymore. Abba says...”
“Abba-says-this-Abba-says-that!” he
mocked in an annoying singsong voice. “Come now, when are you going to think
for yourself? He isn’t any of the things he says he is!”
Instantly,
Etsmey’s eyes flashed the color of boldness. “I may still be learning who I am,
but I know his nature is love and truth,” she held the lantern higher and began
to walk forward. “I know you to appear good and handsome only in the darkness,
but when his light shines on you…” she shoved the lantern forward.
I saw for the first time the wretchedness that
held me in his arms. Putrid ugliness wreathed in rotten distain, not a man at
all, but a monster of a creature.
I screamed
and struggled but he held me tighter his broken teeth grinning evilly upon me.
“You will be mine,” he hissed venom in my ear. “You will live with me forever!”
“No!” I shrieked,
clawed and twisted, even bit him, but I was powerless. An image flashed into my
minds-eye, chained in one of his reeking dungeons, no water, the floor a bed of
red coals, starved rats gnawing my toes and fingers, evil monsters torturing me
with hot brands. Forever. “I never said I wanted you!” I shrieked.
“But you
never said you wanted him either.” His
reminder was like a boulder falling in my stomach.
“Call upon the name of Abba—ask him to rescue
you!” Etsmey’s voice roused me.
I tried to
find my voice, but even that failed me. Nothing came out. I closed my eyes.
Only my heart whispered and somehow its cry was louder than the confusion.
He heard.
Instantly,
the darkness and all evil fled the earth. Suddenly, we were standing there in
the light bathed forest. I was looking at him and he was seeing me.
“Daughter,”
his face—his wonderful, satisfying face—broke into the most generous, smile
that man had ever known. He said it as if there was no word in the world he
liked better; nothing that pleased him more than to say it. “Daughter,” he
breathed again, eyes glistening as though he could hardly believe it was true.
“I see you,
Father!” I sobbed with joy and fell into his arms happily, willingly.
Once upon an exiled time, I lived under
the power of a terrible curse which robbed my life of both love and light.
But now, because of him, I am changed
forever after.
The End
