Within the blazing white light he saw four figures, from whom the light seemed to be emanating. Each of them knelt on the ground, heads bowed, eyes closed and arms folded. Together they formed a circle facing inward.
They are praying! he thought in awe. Even in the midst of this deathly blackness, they are praying.
And I shall join them!
He moved forward, intending to kneel just outside the circle, for it was very tightly formed and he did not want to disturb them. As he moved within a few steps, however, they shifted around on the ground, leaving an open place for him.
They can feel me. He knelt on the ground among them, feeling unworthy to be in their presence. For who was he to dwell among angels, whose light he could not, at first, bear to behold? Who was he to presume to kneel here among them, whose very presence kept the darkness at bay?
He folded his arms and bowed his head.
He could think of nothing to ask for; instead he gave voice to the gratitude brimming within.
…I thank thee for carrying me through the darkness. I thank thee for giving me the gift of song. I thank thee for the marvelous light which has saved my life. I thank thee for these, thine angels round about me. Always hast thou been near me. Always hast thou watched over me. May I in some way repay thee for all which thou hast done for me. May thy will ever be done…
He did not know how long he knelt there, pouring his soul out to his Heavenly Father. All he knew was that he wanted to pray, and to keep praying, forever. It felt like no other time he had prayed, for he felt closer to heaven in this ‘eye of the storm’ than he ever had in less dangerous circumstances. It was almost as if he needed the darkness to have the intense desire to cling to the light. It was also as if these shining beings, these angels filled with light were in as much need as he was to pray. And he felt certain that it was their combined prayers that held the darkness at bay, just as his song had kept him from fainting while he had traveled through it. As he continued to pray, he began to be filled with a desire to know the identities of these angels among whom he knelt. Who were these angels, and how did they come to have such a light about them? How were they able to sustain such a marvelous brilliance when it had taken all he had had to merely hold the darkness at bay? And who was he to wonder?
At that moment he felt a hand come to rest on his shoulder. His eyes opened in surprise.
One of the angels, a female, had placed her hand on him. Her eyes looked into his for a moment, and he felt that she could see deep into his soul. Her countenance was so bright, so beautiful, that his heart was nearly overcome with emotion. He could not speak.
‘It’s okay,’ she whispered to him. ‘It’s going to be okay now. You’re safe here.’
He smiled his gratitude to her. How had she known that his heart was filled with turmoil when he had not spoken?
‘There aren’t secrets here when we’re filled with the light,’ she said, answering his unspoken question.
At last his tongue was freed, but before he was able to give voice to the questions that burned within him, she raised a hand.
‘Let’s go over here where we can talk without being too noisy for them,’ she said, indicating a spot a few paces away.
When they had both retreated from the other three angels, Adialon gave his voice free reign.
‘How did you hear my thought, O angel? How are you able to keep the darkness at bay with such ease? Who are you, and where do you come from? How do you burn with white light without being consumed?’
‘You are nearly filled with it too, but you haven’t realized it,’ she said to him.
‘How can this be? There was a boy who was with me before I was engulfed by the darkness, who told me much the same thing.’
‘Was it that boy?’ she asked quietly, pointing back to where the remaining three angels still knelt.
Adialon searched their faces intently for a moment.
‘Yes!’ he exclaimed. ‘The angel in the center has the face of the boy with whom I spoke.’
‘Why do you keep calling us angels?’ she asked curiously.
‘Is that not what you are, in truth? How else could you shine forth so brightly? I find it difficult to believe that mere people could do the same.’
‘People can be angels, and angels, people,’ she told him.
‘Then you are angels,’ he concluded. ‘Whether you realize it or not.’
The angel shrugged. ‘Maybe. I guess to some people we are.’
‘Then you are closer to the throne of God than we are! Why do you not return to Him when you are so close? What is it that holds you here, when it must be said that you belong somewhere else? Could you not pray that He take you to him? Do you not want to return?’
Adialon noticed a subtle change in the angel’s eyes. He did not at first know what it was, but she seemed to be looking at him with new eyes, as though seeing him for the first time.
She was frightened! Adialon reeled in shock. An angel, frightened! What was there on earth that could frighten such a being?
‘I’m not an angel,’ she said shakily. ‘I’m just a girl. A girl with some special abilities, but that’s all.’
‘A girl,’ he repeated, unbelieving. He wanted to shake her. It could not be true.
‘It is true, Adialon,’ said another voice. He turned and saw the Boy walking toward him, his light hidden again.
‘Boy! How can you be anything other than angels? I do not understand it!’
‘You’re taking all of this in much too quickly. You need to take a break from it. I will take you back to the place you fell asleep in.’
Adialon took several slow, deep breaths.
‘Perhaps you are right. It is, no doubt, for the best.’
‘That’s right,’ the Boy said encouragingly. ‘Come on, now.’
They began to move away from the others. Adialon did not look back, for he was falling into shock. The darkness melted away as they moved through it. Soon it had all dispersed.
The Boy began to ask him questions about his homeland. How many people lived in his village? What sorts of things did they do for exercising, for working, for fun? Were there many animals? What kind of animals did they have? Was it warm there, or did the weather change with the seasons? Were there many lakes and streams, oceans and rivers? Were there great mountains and rolling hills, or were there great expanses of plains as far as the eye could see? Were there many children in their villages? How many children in each family he knew? Did they keep animals as companions?
Before long Adialon fell into a kind of half-stupor. He would stumble along beside the Boy, completely at a loss as to where to put his feet or how to steady himself with his arms. He had forgotten how to walk. At times the Boy would put a hand on his shoulder to steady him, other times he would give an encouraging word.
‘You’re doing great.’
‘Keep on going, we’re almost there.’
‘Watch out for that rock.’
‘Come around the tree this way.’
It seemed as though an entire age was passing as they traveled. Adialon felt so weak, as though he had lost all strength in addition to losing his balance.
He could not think of what he would do when he returned to where he had slept. He did not feel as though he had the strength to gather food, or to hunt meat, for he was yet loathe to go back to the village.
‘Don’t worry about it,’ the Boy said. ‘It will be taken care of.’
He accepted the answer without question.
In time they reached the grove.
There sat on the ground a large, hand woven basket, filled with fruits, herbs of the field, and nuts of various kinds.
‘The people of your village care a great deal for you,’ the Boy observed.
‘Yes,’ came Adialon’s simple answer.
‘I’ll leave you here to sleep. We’ll see you soon. Try to stay busy, okay?’
‘Yes,’ Adialon said again as he sat down upon the ground. After a moment he turned to ask the Boy when he would meet them again, but the Boy was gone.
He lay down as he had at the beginning of the dream, closed his eyes, and awoke. He sat up, looking around him. There on the ground before him was the basket of food.
He realized that he was ravenously hungry.
He took his time, feeling as though he was too weak to rush. He savored the sweetness of the fruit, peeling, cutting and eating each piece. He enjoyed the taste of the herbs, and the nuts. As he ate, his sensitivity to his surroundings, the scent of the trees and grass, the wind blowing in his hair, the sight of the late afternoon sun going down, returned. He was alive again, and more so than before.
Adialon found, for the first time in a long while, that there was something he longed for other than death.
He longed to dream again.
© 2010 by Adam Scott Campbell. All rights reserved.
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