Bryan Davis - Eye of the Oracle

“And I have returned your kindness by guarding your offspring. Shem and Japheth and their families do honor to your name. You have every reason to be proud of them. You are a father among fathers.”

Noah averted his eyes. Shining tears formed in each one. “You honor me too highly. You know that one of my sons has brought this new evil into the world, and I was unable to stop him.”

“Ham would not listen to your wise counsel. That was not your fault.”

“Wasn’t it?” Noah shook his head slowly. “How many times have I asked myself that question? What did I do wrong? What could I have changed to steer him toward faith and righteousness?” He clutched his vest with both hands as if to rend it, but his arms fell weakly into his lap. “After all these years, I have even lost the strength to grieve.”

“You have nothing to be ashamed of. You told Ham the truth.”

“You’re a good friend, always willing to console the bereft.” Noah shook a finger at Makaidos. “But you would do well to remember your own words, for a time is coming when you will need them more than I.”

“A time of grief, Master Noah? Are you prophesying doom?”

“Merely an observation. Japheth has given me details of his conversations with two of your sons and your eldest daughter, and he and I are both greatly concerned about where their hearts lie.”

“Their hearts?”

Noah tapped a finger on his temple. “Actually, their wills. Their allegiances. What is the driving force that motivates their actions?”

“It is supposed to be service to the Maker, who has assigned us to help those still faithful to you. That is why Nimrod’s armies have not overrun you already. We have kept the perimeter free of his invaders.”

“Free of the squadrons, yes, but not free of the smaller kidnapping bands. I assume you know who was guarding us during the first of those raids.”

Makaidos dipped his head toward the floor. “That was my fault. Roxil was too young and inexperienced. I should not have assigned her that task. She is much more qualified now.”

“That was the most tragic night for Shem, to be sure. Losing his firstborn son brought him grief beyond description. But there were other nights, other raids.”

Makaidos bent his brow. “Are you implying, Master Noah, that I have been complicit with the invaders?”

Noah waved his hand rapidly. “Not you, my friend. I do wish, however, for you to ask yourself this question. You have patrolled our perimeter yourself, as has your mate, hundreds if not thousands of times. How many of those nights have we suffered a breach?”

“There have been none, but we are more experienced. We have battled evil forces for centuries.”

“It is not your experience that keeps our homes safe, Makaidos.” Noah stood and laid a hand on the dragon’s chest. “It is your heart, your passion. You believe in what you are doing. You feel your love for humankind in your blood; you taste it in the air; you dream about it at night; you wake up with passion spilling from the very fire in your breath, for this righteous obsession has enflamed your heart with unquenchable desire to fulfill your vision. But, although you have taught your brood to follow in your footsteps from the time they were younglings, they only go through the motions. Obedient and willing, yes, but they likely don’t feel it burning in their souls.”

“But they are supposed to feel it,” Makaidos countered. “We dragons are made to serve humans. There is no other choice.”

“True, but don’t make the mistake of projecting your own passion on them. Just because they seem to be following, don’t assume that their hearts burn with your vision for love and service.” Noah sat back down and opened the scroll, angling it toward the lantern. “For I fear that their loyalty could easily be turned.”

Makaidos stretched his neck toward the scroll, but not so far as to read it uninvited. “You are implying that there is something I need to know.”

“Yes. May I read a summary of a conversation between my son and your daughter?”

Makaidos nodded. “Please do.”

Noah’s eyes shifted back and forth, scanning the text. “Here it is. Shem had just summoned Roxil to the ledge after her night’s patrol.” He cleared his throat and began reading. “The she-dragon seemed distracted, nervous. I asked her about the movements of Nimrod’s troops, but she said they had camped quietly all night near the riverbank. I then mentioned that our own scouts had seen a pair of Nimrod’s bowmen stealing through the thickets near Enoch’s grove and asked if she had seen them. She grew irritated, seemingly insulted that I would imply that she had been derelict in her duties. She just flew away without another word. That’s when I decided to go from home to home and check on our people and property.”

Noah rolled up the journal. “That was this morning, Makaidos. We lost a girl in that raid, so we summoned a council of war. I insisted, though many were skeptical, that we call for your help. I knew you would come, but now that Roxil has arrived with you, there will be great concern among our troops.”

Heat surged across Makaidos’s scales. “Roxil will fight for our cause valiantly. I will see to that.”

“Oh, I believe she will, as long as you are with her. My concern is for what she is doing when you are absent.”

“Speak frankly, Master Noah. Do not hold back your thoughts.”

“I will, my friend, but first I must give you some warning about what you are going to face, and this is a prophetic word. In the coming days and decades, you will suffer greatly, and you will suffer alone. With the exception of your dear mate and perhaps an offspring or two, everyone you love and cherish will turn against you. They will claim that no one else agrees with you, so you couldn’t possibly be right. They will call you arrogant, tyrannical, and even mad. They will say that you are so obsessed with your insane version of truth, that you have abandoned all reason, that you have forsaken logic and clear thinking, that you have given up on those you love because of your neurotic fixation on a divine light that no one else can see.”

Makaidos lifted his brow. “Why would loved ones do this to me or anyone else? They know my character. They have seen my integrity.”

“Not just your loved ones, Makaidos. The entire world would do it, because character and integrity are not as important to them as acceptance from the masses or as comforting as the false security they receive from not examining their lives.” Noah leaned back and sighed. “I know this all too well. My sons and I worked like slaves on a boat for a hundred years while people laughed at us and mocked us. Just as I prophesied concerning you, I was obsessed with obeying a heavenly voice that no one else heard. I saved the future of the planet, but in the process I lost one of my sons. I do not regret the years of coercing my sons to build that monstrosity of a boat. Though even their eyes at times seemed to question my sanity, I have been completely vindicated.” He shook his head again, and a tear coursed down his weathered cheek. “But being proven right does not lessen the pain of my loss, for it seems that, in spite of all my efforts, my ark did not keep my own son from drowning.”

Makaidos guided a wing tip over Noah’s shoulder. “A father cannot be held responsible for the sins of his son. I have heard you say this yourself.”

“Responsible?” Noah shook his head. “No. . . But am I completely innocent just because he has free will? Seeds of rebellion cannot grow unnoticed, and I ignored them.” He ran his wrinkled hands through his wispy hair, tears again filling his eyes. “Did zeal for God blind me to the rebellion of my own son? Should I have rebuked him every time he rolled his eyes, every time he grumbled when a parade of people passed by mocking us, calling us fools for wasting our lives on building an ark?” He reached for Makaidos’s neck and stroked it lovingly. “Emzara died in sorrow believing Ham was lost forever. Will I go down to Sheol with the same misery haunting me? Is there any hope that a son might turn his heart back to God when he has rejected a salvation he has seen with his own eyes?”