“BRING THE PRISONER FORWARD!” The command echoed from the far corners of the great coliseum.
Their echo resounded throughout the crowded coliseum a full minute before it finally diminished. As the echo subsided, the clatter of chains scraping across the polished floor reached every ear. Every laborious step taken by the prisoner proclaimed to all in attendance the conclusion of recent events. Slowly, very slowly, the prisoner inched his way down the aisle toward the intense Lights.
This prisoner did not bend under the weight of the heavy irons, nor did he shrink from the authority radiating from the throne. Instead, he held his head high. As he stretched to his full nine foot eight inch height, his square chin and pronounced features gave him the look of a heavenly prince, proud of who he was, proud of what he had done. The guards, however, continued their armed escort, weapons at the ready. Would he try something again?
The King, Chakam, and El watched every step the stately figure took.
The prisoner, once the King’s trusted bodyguard and most renowned steward, had been with Them from the beginning. He was there when El created time. He was there when El took an entire day to establish the laws of electromagnetism and took another day creating gravity separating the waters—drying the earth. The prisoner was there when El called forth every living plant. He stood beside El when El placed lights in the sky, set the moon in its orbit, and lit the sun. He was there when El created fish and birds. He was there when El formed the man, breathing life into the one called Dusty.
This prisoner stood beside El when El instructed that first man in the caring of His garden. He watched as El designed and built every creature, every crawling thing, and every kind of animal for Dusty’s benefit. He watched as El formed the woman from the man’s rib. They watched Dusty’s excitement as he named her Life. Together, all of Heaven watched as Dusty and Life played with the animals and tended the garden.
Then one day, this steward tried mimicking El. He made sculptures of clay and wood, then breathed on them. Disappointment crept across his face when the statues he had made did not come to life. El smiled, placing His arm around the shoulders of His friend, the steward.
That was the beginning. The admiration and respect this steward had had for the King, El, and Chakam, turned from curiosity to disillusionment. El had not given him the power to make life. Like a small discontented cloud, a wisp of envy billowed into puffs of jealousy. The dissatisfaction of limited power soon overshadowed the shine of wonderment. The gentle breeze of awe burst into gusts of rage. He flashed with the frustration of failure. Attracting other malcontents, he organized them into bilious pride. Updrafts of anger churned beside downdrafts of deceit until dissent echoed across the land. Rebellion cracked to life.
The King sent messengers investigating this disturbance. How was it spreading? How could the King stop it? He posted guards, shuttered the windows of His Kingdom, and reinforced the depths of His administration. He sheltered the innocent and stationed armies in strategic locations. The alarms sounded.
Then came that terrible silence: the waiting. Everyone waited.
That horrific impending doom soon arrived, raining havoc across the country. A green wall of suspicion stormed through the Kingdom. Accusations streaked across the sky. Rumbles of interrogations shattered the stillness. Hostilities erupted[R4] shaking all that stood in the way. The clash of two worlds swirled through each other, shredding structures, infrastructure, and personnel alike. A torrential hail of anger bruised the ground. Fury tore through the land, hurling carnage of lies. It pulverized the innocent and assassinated character. There was no escape. It decimated every corner of Heaven.
The echoes stopped. The prisoner stood before the King.
Next page: From Chapter Five