Chapter 17: A Different Character

       It had been nearly a month. Flieshiv looked around at his torn tent and sighed as he heard the cries of wounded soldiers. Arthea was rapidly falling to the hands of the Kreton invaders. These invaders had no respect for the legacy of Arthea: for the kindness which it had always shown its neighbors, nor for the refuge it had always provided to any who needed it. No other nation had ever dared to truly launch an attack here, and especially not a full scale invasion. The other nations, even those far away, had all heard of Arthea’s compassionate reputation and had often wished just to preserve the beauty and safe borders that that reputation brought. Not these Kreton though. Flieshiv slammed his fist down on his travel desk. These monsters called men had nearly burnt the whole land: only pockets of safety and refuge remained. They’d killed thousands on thousands, dragged others into slavery, and left the remainder to rot without food, shelter, or anything else. They seemed invincible. Nothing Flieshiv nor the other commanders had done seemed to even slow the invaders. Everyone prayed and begged God for help, but nothing seemed to change. This nation, which had so long depended on and worshiped its creator, was now wondering what it had done to deserve this fate. Many were losing their faith.

The truth was that there wasn’t hardly anyone left to help the people keep faith. Many of the monks, nuns, and others set apart to God were dead or enslaved. Several of those left were beginning to lose their faith. Nearly all of the monasteries, churches, and other places of worship were destroyed and along with them the copies of God’s book. Flieshiv shook his head sadly: there had been few enough of them to start with and now there was only a handful of copies which the monks had managed to save.  Why was God allowing this happen? What had the Arthean people done… or not done to deserve this? What could God possibly need to show them that called for such a monstrous event to occur? Or did it have anything to do with them at all?

Flieshiv stared blankly ahead for a moment and then sat back in his chair with a sigh. It had been almost a month, and there was no sign of Peace. He worried for her and never ceased praying for her safe return. He knew she had said three months, but he was starting to wonder if Arthea had that long. The land was burning away so fast. The people were dying. Everything was being destroyed. Flieshiv shook himself again and stared back at the torn tent wall. Slowly his thoughts drifted back to Peace. He knew God would guide and protect Peace. Flieshiv wondered what or who God would guide her to. How would God choose to use Peace, and would he allow their salvation to come that way? Would He allow it to come from a foreign land, or would He send help some other way?

Flieshiv shook his head again: he missed her. He missed her warm, though sometimes sparse, smiles… and laughs. Her gentle heart and courageous soul. Her tanned and worn complexion, which seemed to him most beautiful. He missed her flowing hair which, though rarely seen down, was breathtaking. After nearly 20 years of battles and trials in the army and who knows what in the 21 years before that her hair had still retained its gentle golden color. Flieshiv smiled a bit to himself as he remembered Peace. She had always been a fierce one, though in a gentle way. She was strong too: always able to hold up to any challenge no matter what it cost her. She could persevere through any trial too, and she always attributed it to God. She understood that she couldn’t have gotten through any of it without Him and her continuous faith had always helped to strengthen Flieshiv’s. He had helped to strengthen her’s as well. When he was weak: she was strong. When she was weak: he was strong. And when they both had no more strength: God was strong. God was always there: lifting them up, showing them the way, drawing them closer to Him, and to each other…

Flieshiv smiled a bit and then shook off the thought. Now was not the time for that. He then leaned forward and bent his head. He depended on this talk with God, this time of prayer, to keep him strong and on track. Tonight though, he needed to let his heart out. He needed to pray for Peace, and for himself, and for their whole world which seemed to be slowly burning away.