War

Maral clung to the monument. As the hands of the mob clutched at her dangling feet, she heard an urgent whisper, Sing! She knew it was Wisdom. Wisdom had been there giving her instructions the entire time, but Maral hadn’t been listening. Quickly she sang as loudly as she could in the eternal language. The strange fire exploded from her lungs and swirled around.

The instant the strange fire appeared, the mob scattered. Maral climbed down from the arms of the monument. The powerful fire was consuming the city. She stared amazed, the strange fire had only ever destroyed dark things like Despair. Now as it licked the white buildings, they crumbled to the ground.

The next moment, echoing down from the treetops, the sound of a marching army could be heard. The east wind arrived. It raged through the streets of the city, rushing toward Maral with terrible speed. The fire became a solid wall protecting her.

The battle between these extraordinary elements began. Buildings were crumbling and debris were being thrown like large bullets by the wild wind.

Maral heard a call which woke her from her dumbfounded state. Wisdom was calling her out of the city, away from the supernatural war. She ran blindly toward the voice. As she ran, she heard Wisdom calling out the Scribes. The entire city was fleeing the destruction.

Maral ran into the safety of Wisdom’s arms. “You did it,” Wisdom whispered and kissed Maral on the cheek.

“I did?” Maral asked confused. But froze when she looked around and saw hundreds of Scribes staring, slack-jawed at Wisdom. Maral stepped back, unsure of what was going to happen, but confident she was safe with Wisdom.

Wisdom called out each Scribe by name.

On many, the expression of shock turned to joyful smiles. Maral watched astonished as the age and wrinkles of those Scribes melted. The years, ravaged by the locust of artificial-intellectual-bondage, were being restored. These ran into Wisdom’s open arms, as if they were children seeing their mother for the first time in years. The reunion was beautiful.

Only a few near the rear of the group looked upon Wisdom with skepticism. These longed for their laws and places of power which had just been destroyed. Their names spoken by Wisdom, sounded to them as harsh grinding noises that clawed at their hardened hearts. They gave the slightest nod they could manage to Wisdom, limiting their respect to almost nothing at all, and turned away.

Maral turned to the city. From this perspective, she could see the fire was attempting to burn the city while the east wind was defending it. It was no use. The fire had the advantage and soon the wind retreated, defeated.

Maral knew it was not logical, but, before the east wind left, she felt that it looked at her. She felt a shiver go through her entire body. Wisdom placed her hand upon Maral’s shoulder. She immediately felt strong and safe.