Hadassah's Watchman Trilogy, Evangheline Farcas [red scrolls of magic .txt] 📗

king gave him an envelope with a crimson seal on it, on top with her elegant flowery writing she had written his name.
He turned to leave the room, but was once more stopped.
“Also Philip, we want you to know that we treasure her as well, she is not only like a daughter to us, but her value has become even higher now because of this.” The King stated pointing an object on the grand desk.
“What is that?”
“It is a book, a very old book, and it tells us who she is exactly.”


CHAPTER EIGHTEEN


Psalm 73: 23-24 Yet I am always with you; you hold me by my right hand. You guide me with your counsel, and afterward you will take me into glory.

Denver, NC, United States of America


“This year it’s different, I can feel it Alin.” stated Daniel.
Alin just wrinkled his nose at Daniel’s enthusiasm, “Yes I’m sure it is, we know God will work as He always does.” he replied as he got the copies of the songs they would be practicing today ready, satisfied that there were enough for everyone Alin moved on to his guitar to make certain it was tuned.
Daniel shook his head in annoyance. “That’s not what I mean, of course He will, that’s true, but what I mean is I feel that so much will depend on us this year, something good, or maybe bad I don’t know but our own souls need to be prepared for this.”
Alin responded with a little smile, still not grasping what his friend was saying, “What are you a prophet now?” his tone held a hint of mockery which Daniel could sympathize with, his friend had a few run-ins with wana-be Prophets which at times blinded him to the fact that God still spoke through the real thing at times, although the real ones were indeed fewer and fewer. But Daniel made no such claims, nor did he want to be a prophet, the burden of one was so heavy, yet this feeling was nagging at him.
This year was indeed different. Each year the Romanian youth from the Denver, North Carolina Church worked tirelessly to put together what they called Winter Fest. Romanians from all over the United States would travel to this small city for three days and nights of teaching, singing and fellowship for the younger generation. It always left a huge impact, inspiring those who attended to serve not only God but their communities, to love, to strengthen the weak. But this year Daniel was certain it would be different, He felt more then heard a still small voice in his soul trying to be heard clearer, but he didn’t fully grasp the meaning.
Youth began to stream into the small church where practice would begin for the songs that would be sung. Each year they had to rent a larger church to fit the hundreds who would attend, but until then this would be enough space for the practice they needed.
Alin was doing sound tests on the microphone as a new face stepped through the double doors of the sanctuary, we both looked up.
Tall, yes she was tall, with long chestnut brown hair and green eyes that shimmered and could be seen from where we were standing. She was slim and dressed in jeans and a crimson blouse.
“Buna seara, good evening. Daniel is right, this year is different, and I am here to help you prepare.” she said in a melodic voice.
Both Alin and Daniel starred not finding words very easily until finally Daniel asked, “How do you know my name?”
Her laugh was just as melodic as when she spoke, “I am a watchman, do you know what that is?” she asked and waited for a reply at which they both shook their heads showing how puzzled and baffled they now were.
The other youth were much to busy chatting and catching up on the week’s events to hear the conversation now, as she had drawn close to them. She extended her hand first to Daniel then to Alin, “My name is Zipphorah.”
“Well, you are not a man, yet you say you are a watchman, and no we are not entirely sure what you mean by that.” said Alin matter-of-factly.
She sighed but patiently began her explanation, each word was spoken slowly so that neither of them could misunderstand. “I am a Watchman, in Isaiah God speaks of us, there are many of us, yet you don’t often meet us until a battle has begun. We are the ones who sound that battle cry, or alarm.”
Once more she paused, to make sure each understood, then continued, “We are very old, most of us have been around since the time of the Prophet Isaiah, some even longer, I am one of the few who have been around for even longer.” she said with a smile.
Alin held up his hand for her to stop, “Wait, wait, what are you trying to pull here, you don’t look a day over twenty. We are not fools.”
Zipphorah didn’t even seem to hear him, she walked around him to the keyboard, turned it on and began to test the sound of it, then looking up she said, “Be still, and listen, listen very carefully.”
Her hands moved gracefully across each key and the melody produced sounded more ancient then time itself, it was mournful with many lows and at times cheerful with sweet highs, then there were the pauses that caused each breath to stop in anticipation of what would come next, would the silence never stop? Would the melody continue. Each pause cause a yearning for the melody to go on. But what was more amazing were the images that filled the vision not only of Alin and Daniel, but of each person in that sanctuary, and with each image, each Thomas was made a believer.


CHAPTER NINETEEN


Revelation 3: 15-18 I know your deeds, that you are neither cold nor hot. I wish you were either one or the other!

So, because you are lukewarm-neither hot nor cold-I am about to spit you out of my mouth.

You say, ‘I am rich; I have acquired wealth and do not need a thing.’ But you do not realize that you are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind and naked.

I counsel you to buy from me gold refined in fire, so you can become rich; and white clothes to wear, so you can cover your shameful nakedness; and salve to put on your eyes, so you can see.
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Remember, you may choose your sin, but you cannot chose the consequences.
-Jenny Sanford

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"People need loving the most when they deserve it the least."
-John Harrison


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They came, and the drive resumed, with picturesque country sides zipping by, then cities, then small towns, all passing by in a blur. Soon they reached Timisoara, found a hotel and checked in, through all this Hadassah was in a trance of whirling thoughts that would not abate. She studied Raphael closely, his eyes that were a greenish blue if that were at all possible, his dark hair, his Roman nose, his strong jaw line, everything about him radiated strength and faith, yet at times she caught traces of doubt, or perhaps lack of confidence in his own self.
Images, so many images would not abate, and she wished they would, at least some of them. Those of the guard faithfully protecting her though she hadn’t known him as a person, and she wished she had, he had deserved that. Who has such love that they lay down their own life for a stranger? What greater love was there then that? She thought. Then there was what she had seen, or thought she had seen, a fearsome man, no not a man at all, his height was enough to convince her of that, and the translucent wings that became more focused and clear as her eyes were being opened to the true world around her. Those wings, they turned from translucent to white, or was it a silver white? There had been so much light coming from them, and those eyes were a blue not of this world, firm on its mission yet filled with compassion, and perhaps with burden that this being bore with every soul it carried away to God’s throne. Yes, she had seen the gentleness with which he had taken hold of that soul and that decreased her own fears and doubts.
Seraph was always calm, trusting, yet Hadassah knew that kind of unwavering faith had wavered at least once, she knew somehow that such character had been formed by much hardship, and most likely even much loss. His eyes were a golden brown that shined with warmth at times and at other times with a fierce protectiveness and dedication to each one around him. Hadassah smiled when she thought of his hear which was so blond it was almost white, seeing that it made her feel that he was the one, the one who kept these watchmen in line, focused and never giving up, reminding them why they were going on, why they were fighting, and what the prize would be. She wondered, what exactly was that prize? Would all this pain be worth it? And why, oh why was she part of this? Why did she matter at all? Yet here they were insisting that she was crucial to saving her people. But who were her people? She couldn’t even remember this country.
A knock came on her hotel room door, and her heart pounded, ever since Johan’s appearance and showdown each knock on any door frightened her.
“Who is it?” she asked trying to keep her voice from trembling.
“Seraph, may I come in?”
With a sigh of relief she moved to unlock the door and opened it motioning for him to enter. A tempting aroma greeted her nose like a sweet kiss, something warm was in that bag held by Seraph judging by the steam still rising from it. Carefully he walked to the glass coffee table and set the bag down, taking from it clear plastic boxes filled with food. There was something firm and yellow, though she didn’t know what it was it smelled good, in another box there was what looked like sausages and in yet another there was sour cream.
“What is this?” she asked pointing to the yellow concoction.
“Mamaliga, trust me its really good, it’s made of cornmeal as such found only here in Romania, very traditional for breakfast or dinner here,” he began to explain as if he were speaking to a school child who must understand a very important lesson, “it is eaten with sour cream on top along with the smoked sausages.”
Hadassah’s stomach grumbled demanding the food. She and Seraph sat down on the comfortable leather couch and began unwrapping the plastic silverware.
A smile filled Seraph’s face, “Oh and if you are a good girl and you eat everything there are also some crepes filled with home made raspberry jam, and also milk to calm your nerves.” He said with his mouth already full.
They ate in silence, Hadassah cherishing each bite, indeed the food tasted like heaven and