Wind in the Hands (31 page)

“I have to find the Hermit. Don’t worry about me. The Soldier will stay with you. We need to talk,” he addressed to his friend.

The Soldier turned, pulled out a cigarette, sighed and looked at him expectantly.

“I have to leave,” the Stranger started. “My heart will be easy if you stay here. These people are very important, they need to be protected but try not to kill anyone.”

“No. I’m here to be with you. I don’t think those people will come to this house again. I’ll explain how to defend and leave the riffle,” the Soldier smoked nervously.

“I need you here. Trust me.”

Limping severely the Seer came to them.

“They won’t go on rampage again,” he said quietly, “but the Soldier shouldn’t go, and you too.”

The Bird ran to the Stranger and held him tight.

“Don’t go,” she whispered. He put her aside. His gestures became accurate, his face estranged, he exuded calm and confidence. The Bird sagged down on the floor.

“Promise that you’ll be back! Promise!” she shouted.

“We’ll see each other again,” the Stranger said quietly.

The girl nodded happily. She trusted him. The Seer just sighed heavily.

Chapter 49. The Reason

The old lamps, houses made of stone, pavements with pebbles: the Hermit’s vision has become alive. The street was empty. A grey cat tossed aside and hid behind the bushes. The old man startled, looked around and made his way on the pavement. Suddenly he felt somebody’s look and quickly looked back: nobody was there. It seemed as if he got trapped, somebody made an ambush. He needs to leave this deserted street. He hurried away without looking back. There appeared a shadow in front of him, the Hermit slowed down straining his eyes. He came closer, then closer.

“Oh, that’s you?” drawled the Hermit. “Let me go. You have no power over me. I am not under the protection of your cloak.”

“I don’t need you. Your life hangs by a hair, a wind blows and it breaks,” he blew some air and smiled, showing an even row of white teeth. “I need another one.”

“It’s not you who should meet him,” the old man looked at him in contempt.

“You are in a square and you can’t get out of it. You can’t help anyone even yourself. Warn the Stranger, tell him to leave. He isn’t the one who should be fighting with me. You will stay here. It has to be like that,” he said in a well-wishing voice.

After casting a glance at the windows, the Stranger realized that he will never come back to this house. “That’s it, my time is up,” a thought flashed across his mind. “It’s weird, why there is no fear? Hermit, where are you? What do I need to understand?”

The Stranger was walking down the streets of the City, he was passing through the crowd and nobody touched him. There were gun shots constantly heard, the houses and the shops were on fire. The streets were filled with cries and shouts for help. The preachers tried to stop the slaughter but they made good targets of themselves for those who love to shoot, as they stood at the high places. Coming closer to the Kings’ square, the Stranger heard a familiar loud voice.

“Repent, repent while it’s still not late, change your clothes, cast off the old once and put on the new and clean once. It’s close, it’s coming. The horror that is hanging over the City. Let him come, our Saver, and our Enemy, the ancient opponent, who has covered the whole land with his cloak, will run away.”

The Stranger was filled with the Wind at these words, his body became light, as if the laws of gravity disappeared, and he felt he could fly. “Let’s fly,” he said to himself firmly. The most important is not to doubt and not to be afraid. The most difficult thing is to pass the barrier of disbelief, but the Wind increased, got stronger, sweeping the last doubts away and he believed in the impossible. He took off, came up higher, but sudden doubts pulled him down. “No. I can. It’s not hard!” fiercely, desperately he told himself, as if pushing off the air, and flew up.

“Look, look!” shouted people around, pointing at the flying man. An old preacher, the elder of the order “Power of Light” recognized him.

“The prophecy has come true! A servant of the Enemy came, and his name is Stranger. He got the power from the darkness, and now he deceits the earth with false wonders. He is an opponent of the ancient truth and ancient traditions. This man has incurred the curse onto the City.”

“It’s the Stranger! He is the servant of God!” shouted the desert warriors. “He passed the death tunnel, he fulfilled the ancient prophecy. He is the promised forerunner of the Prince.”

“He stood up for a witch! He is not from God!” insisted the preacher.

People underneath were shouting, arguing, somebody wanted to shoot at the Stranger, but he didn’t pay any attention, stretched his right hand up front, took it aside, bowed himself a little bit side, held himself and it seemed that he swam in the air. It’s important to hold balance: as soon as he lost it he fell into. The frozen and charmed crowd was left aside.

After getting rather high, the Stranger got suddenly scared of the height; the fear seized his trust and his muscles. He started to fall down. The earth seemed to get closer very fast. “No!” he shouted. “It’s not hard!” He was able to stop the fall a few meters away from the earth after he remembered how he swam in the air. After that, he decided not to get too high and instead fly a little bit over the three–story houses. If you are not afraid of the altitude, you won’t fall.

He landed softly on one of the most ancient streets of the City. He walked around as if in a fog, and found himself near the ruins of a fortress, made of uncultivated stones. This tower was the first barrier on the way of intruders coming from the north in ancient times.

The Stranger set on the stones, looked at his body, listen to his pulse and… realized his weakness. “Any miracle will be interpreted wrongly. They honor the power and the fear. Who am I here for? They didn’t fit in the Prince and they will not understand me. There will come another one who will show this land wonders. How do we distinguish them? Only by his deeds, the true messenger of the Lord reveals a lie and hypocrisy; he tends to justice, helps, cures… What if the disease has been neglected? Doesn’t the surgeon cut dried with gangrene limbs for the sake of saving the rest of the body? Doesn’t the Man of Law destroy those who give trouble, in order to stop the wave of violence that threatens to burn the whole country? Who will judge him? Only the one who hasn’t seen a cruel and merciless rebellion.

Will a kind teacher throw a careless pupil out of the class even if he messes up the lesson to the prejudice of the other pupils? To the contrary, the laws of the World System, the laws of nature aren’t like these: get rid of everything that is weak and not useful, and leave what is strong and promising. No, this is a trap for us, representatives of another world. We cannot destroy weak, we have to help them and care for them. What if it’s too late, and there is no time to drag the one who is behind? Those, who were able to reach it, will get a ticket for the train, but those, who could not, will stay on the platform.”

“Hermit,” called the Stranger loud. “Why did you come into the City?”

The Stranger was sitting and talking to himself without paying any attention to the people coming close to him: three women and two men.

“Why are you here?” asked a short woman with blond hair.

“I am looking for the Hermit,” calmly responded the Stranger.

“He isn’t here. Have you come here for his sake? I can see the light of God in you.”

“Who are you?”

“We came to the Prince,” said the woman tenderly.

“Is the Prince here?” The Stranger quickly rose to his feet.

“He is in the City.”

“Where? How can I find him?”

“We don’t know. We are waiting for a sign.”

“How did you understand that the Prince is here?”

“We’ve been called,” explained the woman.

“Do you know the reason?” asked the Stranger.

“No. But we know it anyway. We are waiting for the Prince every day. The signs of his arrival come true.”

“Misfortune befell the City,” reminded the Stranger. “Do you know how to stop the disaster?”

“We can’t,” said a man. “We aren’t here for this. You also shouldn’t try, you can’t help them anymore. The City is doomed. It’s a sign. If the people don’t understand and turn away from their sins,” the disaster will come to the whole world.

“Is the Prince going to come secretly? Only for chosen ones? May be he came to save the City?”

“It’s the beginning of the end here now. The Prince is present in the beginning and in the end. He came to judge,” said the woman confidently.

The Stranger didn’t like these words. He didn’t want to be an observer. “If I find the Prince, he will stop the disaster.”

“It’s safe here. They won’t come here. This place is closed for them. Stay with us,” offered the blond haired woman.

“I didn’t come to the City to search for a safe place.”

The Stranger slowly dragged himself away. “Is the Seer right and the chosen ones don’t care for the fate of the people? The most important thing is for the justice to triumph and the prophecies to be fulfilled. And the suffering is a fair payment for the sins. They aren’t trying to stop the disaster, for they know that all the attempts are in vain? But to be indifferent and not to participate? What if there still is a chance, a slight chance?”

The City was filled with rumors. The old preacher who insulted the Stranger was cruelly beaten. The warriors of the desert have announced coming of a prophet and they were sure to take a leading position among a large number of religious communities. People kept passing away. A horror grimace froze on the faces of miserable and they fell onto the ground in agony. People were afraid to come close to them, fearing that they are affected by a deadly virus, that’s why a special team in waterproof suits gathered corps and burned them behind the city gates. The Stranger tried not to think about his friends and he only asked God to protect them from the disaster.

The news about the Prince arrival has astonished him. “Why does he need to be present at the City’s destroy?” he asked himself. “Something is not right here. I have to find the Hermit.” The Stranger shouted: “I need you!”

“Where do I search for the Prince? Will he preach in the squares? Is he hiding in deserted places or in the ruins? Maybe he is waiting till somebody comes to him? Or he will knock on the door himself?” The Stranger listened to his feelings, and his heart was filled with joy: “The Prince is really here.” He turned around hearing some noise and saw the Hermit. The old man was hardly holding on.

“I am so happy to see you!” the Stranger exclaimed. “I see that you are very tired. Here you can have some rest.”

“Did you understand the reason?”

“I’ve been explained.”

“You have to find him.”

“Do you think we are here for this? He came for our sake?”

“Listen to this prophecy! I wrote it twenty years ago, but I keep forgetting to share it with you. Looks like it’s time.

February is in the air, the winter has come down to the land,

It promises us no hope.

The plague is no longer in the air but

Some alive are still in the land,

We will live and death is not around.

Let’s endure, the lonely two will say

The two lonely remnants of great cities.

But how can we endure, for the power belongs to those,

Who lived, who died and those who have gone.

While those who are alive,

They wish for the death to come,

But it will not come for a long while,

The debts bring it to another shelter…”

The old man held his heart, the Stranger reached to the Hermit in concern, but he only breathed and continued:

“Hey you! Soaked in mud

You draw shame in wantonness.

You won’t find His favor,

The servants of insanity and evil.

Give me Your wonderful Wind from Heaven,

Give me understanding of where from the rings of bell

in my heart was given.

For this lunar month

Is already giving vine to drink, giving vine to drink.

I’ve never seen you,

The One who is sitting at the throne up high,

But I know that at this holiday

A young messenger will come and speak of the dream.

He will say:

“Your sword is in the field,

Your enemy is standing

And he is as high as a thousand of deaths.

Take your bag and rush to the road

And take everything you need for kids.

All the pearls, gold wrap up in wool,

And you go to cut somebody’s hands-legs,

Knock down the bridges, get ready for death.”

Here I am forging a cruel king,

Whose step is like thunder,

Whose look a sea reduces to ashes,

A cold wind from the mountains hides in his nostrils,

Sorrow and distress are in his feet.

I will give him success

I will bring each prophet in by lips,

Will bless his path not easy.

He will take his heart out from calculation.

For the sake of those plants of mortuary,

Where the people will bend their knees,

I will wipe sweat off his face,

But I will not let him fall asleep.”

“I don’t want to kill,” whizzed the Stranger. “And my Prince didn’t kill. I don’t want to become the sword. I will not cut down legs and arms. This is not about me. I know that for sure.”

“Calm down,” said the Hermit in a weak voice. “Nobody is making you kill. You are a human but don’t prevent the power from coming out.”

“Who is this cruel king?”

“I don’t know. He is standing at the threshold already… I have met the ancient evil but I haven’t met the Prince. He came in modest clothes…You will be able to… He is very….”

The old man shook front, his face became light-yellow, he gasped for air and fell on his side.

“What’s wrong with you?” the Stranger grabbed his shoulders. “Hermit, what’s wrong with you?”

The agony lasted just a few seconds. Accidentally he broke the fragile ribs of the old man while doing artificial heart massage, but all his attempts were in vain. A painful grimace on the Hermit’s face smoothed out, and there appeared a light, childish smile behind the old man’s beard.