Posted in Posted by Ania Gresham

Prologue

Mythrelné sat in a dungeon, surrounded by prisoners of Murzak. They crowded around him and listened to him speak of his life.

“I was of great importance to the land of Fragäthia, but I didn’t know it until I was in the action. I had done many things that I, now, regret. I had been a thief, a killer and on top of that I had been a kidnapper. If there was anybody who couldn’t be forgiven, wouldn’t it be me? I lived a hard life as a child, always hungry, thirsty, and dirty. Then He came in my story. He was loving, kind and sometimes strict, yet, I hated Him. He tried everything to bring me closer to Him, but I wouldn’t let Him. For months I was fighting against Him and trying my best to stay away. But He followed me wherever I went. I gave Him every part of my being and loved Him, because He was the Author’s Son. What else could I do? I couldn’t fight for what I truly didn’t want, so now, I fight for He who died for me, and rose again…”

Mythrelné was taken away after that, to be killed for his faith… They aimed fire arrows at him, and he stood there, expressionless and taking deep breaths. He raised his arms below his head, closed his eyes and felt his skin burn and the arrows piercing his heart. He fell to his knees and gasped, but he wasn’t dead. Everyone watching was outraged. They threw stones at him. The stones hit him at all sides and he gasped as each stone hit him, they kept throwing them at him but he was still alive that night.

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The guards threw him back into the dungeon, he was bruised, scratched and arrow-pierced as he limped to the window.

“Mythrelné, why don’t you just forget about the Author and move on?” asked the biographer, who wrote down Mythrelné’s story every evening he came back to tell it.

“Because… if you knew the Author’s Son the way I do, you would die for Him as well…” said Mythrelné, faintly, "Physically and... spiritually..."

“I don’t understand…” said the biographer.

“And you won’t until you actually know Him!”