Chapter 45. Power of Light
The headquarters of the ‘Power of Light’ was located in the lower part of the City. The entrance had been guarded by two people, with their guns ready to shoot. The Stranger was checked by a metal detector, after they didn’t find anything suspicious, they let him go.
The respected members of the community were sitting in the front seats of the gathering hall. The Mediator was speaking from the rostrum:
“There are alien people walking on the hills of the desert,
The mere sight of them makes one lose heart, and his loins weaken.
Repent, before the darkness comes.
Our sins expose us, but stand up for us. Protect us in times of troubles.
Why do You torture us? Why there is no healing? We were expecting peace when horror came! The City, who will take pity on you?
Who will cry after you?”
The preacher looked up, with his eyes full of tears, and saw the Stranger.
“Brothers!” the Mediator raised his voice. “Look! A man of God came to us. His name is the Stranger,” and he pointed to the man standing at some distance.
“The Stranger?” exclaimed someone from the front row. “Isn’t it the Stranger who passed the Tunnel of death?”
Everyone got up from their places, wishing to see the man of God. He looked around at the neatly cut and dressed in expensive suits members of the community. He saw perplexity on their faces, because a poorly dressed, blue-eyed man with long hair faded in the sun and long wrinkles and a nice tan, a man of uncertain age appeared before their eyes.
The Stranger slowly walked to the rostrum:
“The prophecies come true: ‘I will send the dwellers of the land timidity of heart, rustling of a withering leaf will chase them and they will stumble over one another and they will fall, although nobody is after them. And they will not stand against the Enemy’... But the biggest sorrow comes from us ourselves. The fear pushes us to search for the truth in somebody’s fault but it’s not there. I need your help, for my friends are in danger. I want to bring them here, under your protection.”
“Bring anyone you wish,” said the Mediator. “Just not the servants of the darkness, for this is a holy place. Their presence will desecrate it. The Medium is our enemy. People like her open the door to the Enemy and his servants.”
“The Medium and the Seer helped me. God tells us to do good, and to forget evil. You can’t bring a defenseless woman into the temple, but can bring a weapon? Each one of you has a gun under his jacket. If you believe that God has sent me, listen to His messenger. I have passed the test of the desert warriors, but they still searched to kill me. You are waiting for the one who will approve your path. If the Prince comes, you will not accept him either. You say that you are the servants of God? On what grounds? Maybe, due to your seniority or due to your own testimony? Spiritual gifts aren’t proves of righteousness. In such a case the Seer is the most righteous of all the people.”
A grumble rolled down the hall, angry shouts were heard.
“He was right,” the Stranger remembered the warning. “I came here in vain.”
“Brothers,” shouted the Mediator. “Calm down, please. God wants peace, not a war. The witch will not enter our temple, but let’s respond to the request of the man of God, let’s send people to guard her house.”
“No,” said the elder firmly. “This man is of alien spirit, I can clearly see it, but let him leave in peace. We let you go. We forgive your pride and ignorance.”
The Stranger was boiling with anger; he didn’t need the forgiveness of impostors. He was filled with the Wind. The Stranger held the power, gasping air convulsively: “Just a few more seconds and the power will come out, and then something fatal will happen.”
“Mediator! Come with me!” he shouted and ran out of the building. The preacher hardly caught up with him.
“I have one question for you,” said the Stranger. “Do you remember what the heavenly messenger looked like?”
“He was dressed in light clothes, or of light-grey color. I don’t remember exactly.”
“Do you remember the cut of the dress?”
“No. No, I don’t.”
“Now eyes. Remember his eyes.”
The Mediator weary sat on the ground. The Stranger confirmed his worst fears: what if the Enemy has pretended to be the heavenly messenger and the vision is false? Then all his revelations are a deception?
“I don’t remember,” moaned the Mediator. “What is going on? What is going on with all of us? Why is it all so scary? We predicted. We were waiting. And here is this day, on the threshold, knocking at the door, but nobody is ready to let it in. Fevered conscience prompted wild solutions. Can you help?” he looked at the Stranger in hope.
“I don’t know. Nobody is listening to me. People will start killing each other in a short while.”
“They are already killing. We are ready to seize each other’s throats because of this fear. Why did you ask about the heavenly delegate?” the Mediator hung his head.
“Not everything that comes from heaven is from God.”
“Don’t say things like that. Who can we trust then?”
“I don’t trust anyone but the Prince,” said the Stranger.
“How do you recognize him?”
“I will… What have you decided? Are you coming with me?”
“No. I will go to ask people to repent. I will try to stop this slaughter. Maybe, God will give us mercy. You are my brother,” the Mediator gave a reserved smile.
The Stranger shook his hand; a lump came to his throat. He was seized by a bad feeling.
“Hold on, brother!” shouted the Stranger to the Mediator who was walking away.
What a pity, that they have not met earlier. The Stranger couldn’t understand how the Mediator maintained sensitive soul, being in an environment where they don’t stand another opinion? What was he doing in a community that is not able to accept the truth, and disregards the regulations? Probably, he realized that the elders were mistaken, he preached under the protection of the order to have some access to the congregation?
Stranger didn’t rush to judge people without finding the reason for their deeds.