Wayne Batson - The Final Storm

A great winged shadow rose up among the trees, and Robby heard the cracking of branches. This thing was getting closer.

Robby shook uncontrollably. From the shadows came a long hissing intake of breath and then a deep, angry growl.

“Please, King Eliam…,” Robby cried. “I… I don’t know if you’re out there! I don’t know if it’s too late, but please help me.”

No sooner were those pleading words spoken than there was a blinding flash of blue light up ahead. The creature roared, but the roar was cut short by a crack of thunder. And then, all was still.

Robby’s mind raced, and he wondered what had happened. Had King Eliam rescued him? Robby tried to remember everything Aidan ever told him about the King of Alleble. But the thought that kept coming to his mind was to look at the Scrolls.

Robby stared at the Scrolls. It was impossible. Too dark to see anything. But then Robby felt a tingle in his right hand. And suddenly that page of parchment began to shimmer. Words began to appear written in bright golden light, as if an invisible hand was writing upon the Scroll.

Line after line appeared until, at last, there was a glowing block of text right there in front of Robby. He gasped and began to read:

There are passages and doors

And realms that lie unseen.

There are roads both wide and narrow

And no avenue between.

Doors remain closed for those

Who in sad vanity yet hide.

Yet when belief is chosen,

The key appears inside.

What is lived now will soon pass,

And what is not, will come to be.

The Door Within must open,

For one to truly see.

A poem! Robby thought. Aidan had said something about a poem. But it’s like a riddle. What is “The Door Within”?

Then, as before, in glistening golden light, two new lines of text appeared.

Do you see?

Believe and enter.

Yes! Robby thought. I want to enter! I want to go where Aidan went. I want to get out of here right now!

He waited a few heartbeats, wondering if King Eliam would just suddenly appear and whisk him off to The Realm. Nothing happened, and that, Robby thought, meant there was more to figure out.

Robby had never been very good at riddles. Still, he felt passion stirring inside, and he wanted desperately to understand. Realms that lie unseen-that’s got to be The Realm, he thought. Doors remain closed for those who in sad vanity yet hide. Robby knew that vanity was kind of like being conceited or prideful. His sister Jill and her constant primping came suddenly to mind.

“But no,” he voiced his thoughts aloud to the Scrolls. “I’m the one who’s been hiding, aren’t I, King Eliam? Aidan tried to tell me about you, but I didn’t listen. My dad came home, and I bought every one of his lies just because I wanted a father again. I figured I was finally getting life to go my way. Now look at me. I feel more powerless now than I ever have in my whole life, and I still don’t have a father!”

“My power can work through your weakness.” A voice spoke to Robby. Not the raspy, condemning voice he’d heard before. No, this voice felt warm and somehow wholesome. There was safety in this voice-and understanding. “No servant of Alleble will remain fatherless.”

Tears streaked down Robby’s face, and he stood up. The terrors of the woods were gone-vanished like storm clouds driven by strong wind. When belief is chosen, the key appears inside. It was all starting to make sense. One by one, the answers to the riddle began to appear.

“I choose to believe in you!” Robby cried aloud. “I want the key!”

A warm breeze flowed over him, and he stared down again at the golden text upon the Scroll. What is lived now will soon pass, and what is not, will come to be. Robby felt a yearning, an aching of his heart to let everything go-to leave all the frustrations, fear, and loneliness behind. To throw himself on the mercy of King Eliam and be a servant of Alleble.

The Door Within must open, for one to truly see. The final piece of the puzzle became as clear to Robby as the dazzling golden text upon the Scroll. I need to enter a door inside me! he thought excitedly, and he closed his eyes.

At first, Robby tried to imagine a picture of a door, but soon he simply relaxed and let his mind wander. The darkness lifted and before him was a cliff. A narrow, rickety-looking plank and rope bridge extended out over a chasm of unknowable depth and disappeared into the white haze far away.

Robby pictured himself approaching the bridge, and somehow it was clearer in his mind’s eye than anything he had ever imagined before. He looked warily down at the foundation of the bridge, staked down to the cliff. It seemed secure, as if it had been there for many ages past and would be there for many ages to come. Robby took a step closer, and peered over the edge. The distance fell away so quickly that Robby caught his breath and hurriedly stepped backward.

It was silly, Robby thought, to be afraid of something that he had just conjured up in his imagination. But there was little comfort in that thought, for the bridge-and the potential to fall-began to feel more real than the woods on the edge of his neighborhood. Tentatively, Robby reached back with his free hand to feel the large tree that should be behind him. But there was nothing behind him.

The bridge beckoned, and Robby knew he must cross.

A gentle breeze played with Robby’s long blond hair as he stepped out on the bridge. With the Scrolls clutched in one hand, he used the other hand to grip the rope guides and bring his other foot out as well. Slowly, one tentative foot after another, being sure not to look down, he made his way across. But the whole time, his legs were shaking and unsteady. C’mon, Robby! he berated himself. Get a grip. You’re a star athlete. This should be easy!

But it was anything but easy. Sweat poured down his face, his throat dried up, and he felt his stomach twisting in knots. And even though the planks beneath his feet had not even so much as creaked, Robby had a constant, nagging fear that his next step might break a board, and he would fall through… fall into nothingness.

He quickened his pace-all the while staring ahead into the haze for some sign of where the bridge might end. It seemed to go on and on, and Robby certainly wasn’t going to try to look back over his shoulder to see how far he’d come.

The wind picked up, and the bridge began to sway. Robby shook so hard he had to stop and crouch down. The wind increased even more, howling and gusting at times. “No!” he cried out, but it was too late. The wind took the Scrolls right out of his hand. He watched them fly away, and then he shut his eyes.

Robby wanted to turn around and run back to the safety of the ledge where he’d begun. Slowly he stood, and the idea came into his mind that if he turned back and made it to the cliff, he could open his eyes and find himself back in the woods near his neighborhood. His old life would still be there waiting.

“But I don’t want that old life,” Robby said aloud. He knew all too well the kind of life it would be. A life of uncertainty, a life of fear-his biological father would see to that, he felt sure. C’mon, Robby, let’s get going.

He took a step. Then another. The wind shrieked and the bridge swayed, but Robby held the guide ropes and coached himself as he pressed on. Four years of gymnastics-I’ve got good balance. Nine years of baseball, football, and soccer-I’ve got the strength.

He felt a subtle change in the incline. The bridge had bottomed out and now began to climb. I’m doing it! Robby thought excitedly. I’m going to make it!

He walked faster, with more confidence, and his hold on the guide ropes wasn’t as severe. He even released his grip a couple of times and walked more casually. The incline steepened, and Robby was so pleased with his efforts that he ventured to look over the side. Just once.