Chapter 24
Infinity....
The enveloping womb of comfortable blackness and peace began to change. He heard a voice gently whisper, "Come now... my boy.... Your time has arrived. The sleeper must wake." His sleep muddled brain refused to listen. He was in a good place, a safe place. He'd found peace.
The whisper grew stronger... firmer. It began to nag at the edges of his consciousness. "Come... my boy.... Come to me.... Come to me, now."
He was compelled to respond.... Sluggish limbs were drawn, as if by puppet strings. His mind's eye opened and he saw a spiraling brightness... saw and felt a confusion of color and light far ahead... so beautiful... so enticing... so warm... so loving. He had to reach that light. He had to touch it... enter it... become one with it.
He began to climb... up steep stairs... pulling himself.... His hand grasped a smooth, wooden railing... hauled upward, out of the darkness... towards shafts of blue and gold... red and violet. They played about him and illuminated his way.... He wanted the light... craved it.... He wanted that resonant voice. He wanted to hear it more clearly... to understand it.
At last he saw.... His vision brightened... widened.... Home.... He was in his own home... on his own stairs.... God... it felt so good... to be home... on Angel Island. He was in the library.... He could smell the books... the leather... the wood. He'd know that fragrance anywhere.... He recognised the source of the light.... It was the stained glass window.... Impossibly bright sunlight flashed through the colored panes.... Rainbows danced on the surface of his eyes.... He physically felt their warmth... and the image... the old man became larger, brighter....
"My boy," the robed figure said gently. "I've been waiting. Do you know me, boy? I am your ancestor... and namesake... Myrddin Emrys... Merlinus Ambrosius...."
The colored panes seemed to break free of their leaded frames... to spin off in all directions. Merlin laughed as he stepped down from the window.... It was a good, jovial, wise laugh.... "Do you know what our name means... Emrys... Ambrosius?... It means 'immortal'. Bear that in mind, boy... but beware!... Immortality is not what it's cracked up to be." With an elegant hand he straightened the rough, henna colored fabric, smoothed his long, white beard.
At last, he stood tall and straight... towering and regal in the humble robes. His black, piercing eyes, hawkish... merlin like... in their intensity, looked down at his descendant. "Welcome home. You are ready.... Have no fear.... You are a worthy heir to my abilities.... God understands you.... He sees all and chooses his warriors carefully.... He chooses not those who ask to be chosen... nor does he choose those whom 'others' might think he should choose. He sees your obstinate, warrior soul... your thirst for the Light... your desire to protect... and he rejoices in it... for it is the Light. New battles await... more sacrifice... duty... but beauty, love, and honor too. You have learned what you need to know, though you know it not."
"But I sinned," said Derek. "I sold my soul."
"How did you do this terrible thing?" Merlin asked.
"I was willing to sacrifice Alex to save myself from my torments... to escape the mask. I had become Mr. MIM."
"Ahhh... I see," said the old man, again stroking his beard. "But Alex is well.... Is she not?... She survived in better shape than you, my boy. You did not sin. What has passed is past."
"But I consented to the sin," Derek objected. "I would have sacrificed Alex.... I would have done anything. As soon as I consented to the deed, my torment ended. My bargain was sealed."
"Oh... my boy," Merlin sighed in frustration. "You have such a stubborn soul.... God loves you for it, but you can be such a trial!... Why are you so willing to think the worst of yourself, when God does not. You were saved by Him, not by Satan. Tell me, boy, what does it take to commit a mortal sin?... How did good Sr. Margriet explain it in Catechism School?... Speak up!... Cat got your tongue?"
Derek cleared his throat, cast his mind back to formidable Sr. Margriet, who had prepared him for his First Communion. He recited by rote, "A mortal sin must be a serious offense... done, spoken, or thought... against God and his eternal law."
"And?" Merlin prompted.
"And... one must understand how serious it is."
"And?"
"And," Derek sighed, "one must consent to commit that sin.... I consented."
"Finish that sentence, Precept," the old man sternly ordered. "Finish what Sr. Margriet said."
"One must fully consent to commit that offense... without coercion."
"Bravo!... Exactly, my boy!... A sin is only committed, if a person 'freely' consents to the sin," he explained. "You did not 'freely' consent. That consent... that willingness to sacrifice your friend... was wrung from you by weeks of torment, horror, and desolation. How can you call that 'free' consent, when God does not?... Do you place your opinion higher than God's?"
Derek shook his head no.
"Just as a marriage is invalid when a bride is forced against her will to say 'I do', so was any statement... any promise... you might have made," Merlin explained. "It also calls for 'understanding' of that offense. You were nearly insane... as you have been for months now. You did not sin.... Instead, you offered yourself to the creature with the hope that your presence within the 'collective' might alter the balance, and you joined on the condition that Alex would be safe. You endured to put an end to an evil that had stalked the world for eons... and in doing so, you have been changed."
"Not for the better," Derek countered.
The old man smiled gently, enigmatically.... "All things pass... all things change.... So be it." He turned back to the stained glass and pulled away the banner which had rested at his feet. He read the lettering on the flowing ribbon, "Fides fidelem veritatem vult
," then placed it in Derek's hand. "The whole truth," he said, "faith... and the Almighty... have need of it... and of you... and you have need to see the truth about yourself.... Simply allow yourself to be what you are... what everyone else, including God, knows you to be.""But what good is the 'whole truth'?" Derek demanded. "Does God taunt me?... Why does he torment me this way?... Or am I a toy to be pulled apart in some great tug-of-war between Heaven and Hell. I'm shown horrors, then forced to watch them come true. I'm not strong enough to prevent them.... Was I chosen so that I might forever fail?... Those evils... those tragedies... become my guilt. I can't go back to that... not again. Please, don't make me."
The old man sighed. "That is what life is for people like us. You've always known this." He placed a large, warm hand on the precept's weary shoulder. "Because of my 'Sight,' I was called the 'Devil's Bastard'.... I heard it so often that when the dark times came, a part of me believed it.
"Do not fret over the disasters you cannot prevent.... Sometimes you are simply allowed to 'see' what Providence has decreed... not so that you may prevent, but that you may be prepared for what comes afterwards... or simply that you may bear witness. My 'Sight' helped me give Arthur victory over the Saxons at Mt. Badon... and in all the battles following. He allowed me to 'see' a righteous kingdom and to help make that vision come true... but I was also given vision of the destruction of all our works... all our glorious achievements... and was rendered powerless to prevent it.... I went mad... and pulled myself from that madness. I was there for the destruction, but I've also been there to see the good that has come of that tragedy... all the good that Camelot gave birth to. For every darkness, there is light. Such is the way of Providence.... Such is our fate... my son... our destiny."
With a long finger, which bore a signet with a great, blue stone, he touched the precept's brow... and Derek Emrys Rayne woke.
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Library Window capture courtesy of The Desert House.
