City of IF

[Thunderbird]

Heavy Metal
Prologue


And the LORD said unto Aaron, Thou and thy sons and thy father's house with thee shall bear the iniquity of the sanctuary: and thou and thy sons with thee shall bear the iniquity of your priesthood.
-Numbers 18:1



April, 2002


“Awaken, foremost descendant of Aaron.”

A distant gentle voice sung out from the darkness. Despite its peaceful nature, it invaded the indulgent tug of drowsiness that beset the man who lay in slumber.

The man’s sky blue eyes flickered open upon hearing the voice. His heart picked up a beat, pulsing charged blood through his veins to shred the last vestiges of lethargy from his limbs.

Bolting upright in his bed, a twin mattress that had been slapped down onto the cold concrete floor of this rented basement, he backed against the stone wall behind him. Brushing his shoulder length, nut brown hair out of his eyes, he pulled a lone sheet up to his chin, his breath coming in shallow gasps.

Darting from one corner of the shadowy room to the next, his gaze flicked rapidly about seeking the source of the voice that had roused him from slumber. Only a sliver of moonlight pierced through his diminutive, dust stained window, casting its lone silver beam across the base of the mattress.

“Who’s there?” he asked in a forced whisper.

With no answer forthcoming, he reached to the side of the bed. His hands brushed past the reading lamp which could have illuminated his dark bedchamber. Instead, he instinctually grasped for those relics which provided yet more comfort, his Bible and the finely crafted wooden cross he always left atop it. Without hesitation, he clutched the holy text to his breast while brandishing the symbol of his faith towards the shadows.

“Be not alarmed, man of God.”

There it was again, that voice, so soothing, seductive and confident. Whether masculine or feminine, he could not be sure. Nor could the location of its origin be perceived. It seemed to come from all around him, echoing through him.

Thomas Forsythe inhaled to ask, once more, whom had intruded upon his premises. Before he could speak, however, he exhaled in awe as a beautiful apparition shimmered into view before him, bisected by the piercing moonbeam sparkling through the spiritual manifestation.

An azure glow surrounded the figure, a tall comely woman with billowing dark hair and pure-white feathered wings outstretched behind her shoulders. He blinked as he noted she was garbed in nothing more than flowing ribbons for clothing.

Both hair and ribbons swayed in an unseen breeze, her feet levitating inches from the surface of the bed, giving the apparition the appearance of floating in an underwater realm.

Innocent and demure, her face was more beautiful than any he had seen. Her large, luminous eyes watched him with an expression blending loving compassion, admiration, and indisputable authority.

“Who… who are you? You are… an angel?”

“Yes, descendant of Aaron. I have been sent by the Lord to bring you tidings of what is to come and to enlist you in his struggles. You have prayed for God to show you how to best serve him and I am here to answer your prayers, Thomas Forsythe.” The answer was simple and direct, leaving little to doubt. The ethereal quality of her voice left him wondering if he had actually heard her speak, or if her words had been placed directly into his thoughts.

“Certainly I am not worthy,” Thomas pleaded, crawling to his knees on the bed, “I have sinned.”

“All men have sinned, Thomas,” the angel explained. “Few show such faith and devotion as you. And none but you may lay true claim to the blessed bloodline. You are the foremost descendant of Aaron. It is most fortuitous that you have embraced such faith. For these reasons, God has chosen you.”

“Chosen me? Chosen me for what? Aaron - he was a Hebrew. I know no such connection in my family lineage…”

“Knowledge of your ancestry is not prerequisite for its reality,” the Angel explained. “Nevertheless, it is true. First born of the first born of the first born and so on through the generations from Aaron to thee. While records have been kept, such are in error due to the oversight of an illicit affair. He has ordained for the true blood of the first priest of God to carry through to the last preeminent priest of God.”

“I would have thought such a man to be an Israelite,” Thomas interjected.

“Were but the people of God still true and pure in their assembly,” the angel expressed with great sorrow.

Thomas nodded, some understanding dawning upon him. Long had he suspected something had gone wrong among the Hebrew faith, perhaps in their rejection of Christ as the Messiah?

The angel responded as if hearing his thoughts. “Neither acceptance nor denial of the Christ Son is the issue at hand, Thomas Forsythe, though your dedication to the cross does not divert your honest faith from the Lord. Such faith does strengthen you, as it does for all who hear the words of the Messiah and accept Him as savior.

“The matter you shall address is far more immediate.

“Long ago, the Lord placed the destiny of the world in the hands of the Red Shield, a family of Hebrew peoples. Now, they have allowed the unclean to enter their highest orders, and in so doing have turned away from our Lord Yahweh. God chooses you, Thomas Forsythe, to bring this to an end. Wars are afoot, both in the Heavens and on Earth. God has sent me to make you his spear, to be thrust into the hearts of the enemies of Heaven.”

A sense of pride and humility washed through Thomas, unsure how to gracefully accept such a role. Despite having skeptically maintained, throughout the course of his life, that such a destiny was impossible for a mere mortal, in his heart, he’d sensed it all along. Dreams of this moment had been visiting him since childhood.

“I’m ready to serve the Lord however He deems me fit,” Thomas nodded in faithful reverence.

For hours thereafter, the basement apartment that the impoverished pastor, Thomas Forsythe, had rented with his last dime was filled with a glorious holy light. A single beam escaped from his humble bedroom, striking back towards the sky to caress the Moon in return for the light it sent.

[Tikanni Corazon]

I have to say, TB, I've never felt that HM was lacking in anything for not having a prologue, but this really does add a new dimension to the story. It great to discover how Thomas started out on his mission for God, and what compelled him to do so and sparked such dedication in himself, to constantly be putting himself in harms way for his cause. It's fantastically written, as always, particularly liked this paragraph...

Quote: The man’s sky blue eyes flickered open upon hearing the voice. His heart picked up a beat, pulsing charged blood through his veins to shred the last vestiges of lethargy from his limbs.

...and I thoroughly enjoyed it! Very well done! :)