The Witness

"Alif!"

The words echoed of stone walls to whom voice was as much a stranger as light. They traveled deep within the caverns, reflecting and losing breath with each leap. By the time they reached the ears of the intended audience, they were scarcely more than a whisper.

Yet, whispers are oft heard better than shouts, when the message is of this nature, especially by Illial, The Witness. There was no doubt, as would be common to mortal men, there was conviction in action as old bones slowly started to walk their pre-determined yet scarce wandered journey. But had it been a mortal listening, his doubt would have been removed by the constant repetition of the Word.

"Impatient." thought Illial, sourly. It was always a sign of things to come, a telling sign...a sign of ill omen.

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It had all been a lie, and Raziel felt like a fool. And perhaps, a fool he had been, for was it not folly to chase after the whims of senile men, men dead long before his time? The wind cut deep up here, as if the Mountain itself was furious that a mere mortal had defied the odds and scaled the Cliff of Sath-ah. Sath-ah, Raz mused, well-named for scaling it was surely an act of madness. His fingers bled, bone stood exposed on his elbows and knees. But Raz felt hope through the pain, what was love if not mad?

Once again he searched through the engravings, wondering whether he could have misinterpreted. No! It couldn't be, the first of the trinity, the first of the three words of Power, that was the final part of the Key. He had shouted the word again and again, until his throat had become hoarse. Breathing now felt like swallowing coals, and he wondered if that would not be easier than what he had set out to do. The cliff edge, beckoned to him...

Come, come, my sweet...

He felt his sanity slipping away as her thoughts consumed him. Her eyes, drowning him for the world.

There is sweet succor, in my teat...

He felt his body act without his volition, lifting, turning, walking.

Embrace death, therein we meet...

One more step and he could fly, like the Phareesh of legend and lore, spread his wings and fly home. The last step is the easiest to take, for it but follows the others, each step doing the same except the first. The first, Raz thought, ahh but if we always knew where our first steps would take us. But those were thoughts for another life, for now death awaited him. He felt his foot lift out into oblivion...

"Do you have wings, jawaan?"

The spell broke, almost in disbelief Raz spun around to stare at the strangest hunchback, that had seemingly materialized out of thin air. Raz could not quite distinguish the features of the broken man, since they were secreted away in his cowl. Yet, he did not need confirmation as to the nature of what stood before him. The silver hair gleamed beneath the cowl, even without the presence of sun-light. He waited.

"I come seeking fulfillment for my wishes?" Raz spoke, forcing himself to speak calmly.

"All wishes are one." Came the calm reply.

A more cautious man, would have pondered his responses. A more patient man, would have coaxed his tongue into silence. A sane man, might have actually leapt of the cliff. Raz was none of the above.

"Then I seek, the One Wish."

"To seek, is to falter, you must find it." The answer came, without pause.

"I will find it, if shown the way."

Illial sneered now, and looked a little more than crazy. Fool! he thought, that is what I have here, lovesick, half-witted fool. Alas, my watch is not over. Maybe, it is just beginning.

"The way is lost, it cannot be shown." Illial all but spat the words out.

He turned away, and started to walk away. Despair was not an emotion his kind would tolerate, there was only the wait. But these blind, sheep grated on his patience. He began the incatation to put an end to this charade...

"We all start as fools, with fool's dreams such as mine. But the greatest folly is not to follow what you believe, the greatest sin is disbelief."

It cannot be! And yet, it was...the Truth had been spoken, and the what must now follow was out of his control. With a slow turn, Illial regarded the young man again. The life was bleeding out of him, yet his eyes golden yellow still shone with defiance, daring Illial to reject what he had heard.

He does not know, of that Illial was certain. Yet the signs were all around, On the youths bared chest the Mark of the Beast raked across, and he had found the Way. Illial looked up at the clear red sky, longing to see different hues. Whatever else the young man was, he was no fool and it was not Illial's position to deliberate over matters.

"Come, your zenith has not yet come. But like the dawn begins with the first rays breaking the horizon, you may yet be the Shua that we have awaited."

No, his watch had not yet ended, but it may finally have begun.