Author: Miles Rost

by

The Gathering (Part A)

The Gathering, Part A: The Introduction
(Story IV-A in the Warrior Series)
by Miles H. Rost

(NOTE: If you’re interested in the previous three chapters of the Warrior Series, please go to these links: Part 1 –  Unstoppable God, Invincible; Part II – Ambushed By Myself; Part III – Dull Swords. Also, please make sure to play the music at the appropriate spots. Finally, a warning that this is going to be long and have lots of description. It may be split. Be forwarned. -Miles)

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“”Seven days you shall celebrate a feast to the LORD your God in the place which the LORD chooses, because the LORD your God will bless you in all your produce and in all the work of your hands, so that you will be altogether joyful. Three times a year all your men must appear before the Lord your God at the place he will choose: at the Feast of Unleavened Bread, the Feast of Weeks and the Feast of Tabernacles. No man should appear before the Lord empty-handed.” – Deuteronomy 16:15-16

—-

It was here. The moment that we all had been waiting for.

We had traveled many days to get to the location. A long journey, going around various obstacles to the appointed place and time. We encountered many wagon trains, ox-carts and other sort of sundry delays. The time in which we were to go to the gathering was also a big time for many of the other people of the lands to celebrate their own festivals. Many of us were tired already when going there.

I was riding in the back of an ox-cart with two people who I befriended a long time ago when I was in the Sunlight Lands, far far to the south. They traveled many weeks, after receiving my note by carrier that this gathering was happening. The simple reply of the note was “We. Are. In.”

Cassie was a woman of stout resolution, with a playful yet sometimes stubborn streak. Even a broken leg didn’t hamper her efforts to get to our camp and travel onward. Further, she brought with the joyous Clarissa, a woman whose humor was considered legendary if not disarming. And we all ended up in the back of an ox-cart,  traveling over bumps and rocks on the way.

After a couple of days in transit, we finally crested the last hill. We gazed upon the area where we would be gathering, and our mouths dropped in awe. The area were we arrived was incredibly beautiful. We spotted the main stage and areas up on top of a gently sloped but wide hill  in the middle of the valley. This hill, as the locals told us, was called “Medicine Hill” in their language. They stated that the hill is where healing and rest was given to travelers through the land a long time ago, though it was only recently that it was being used for gatherings like this.

We noticed farther back from the hill, a giant lodge was tucked into the mountain lobes at the back base of the mountains. The lodge and adjoining houses would easily fit the entire congregation that was going to arrive, a seemingly massive complex that made us wonder what it would be like. We’ve been living in tents for a while, so having actual lodging was going to be quite different.

“It’s been 10 long years since I’ve been at a gathering,” I told Cassie, who was sitting up at the back of the cart with her leg stretched out in a brace, “I have no clue what to expect, and with everything happening lately, I am hoping some good stuff comes.”

“Things will do fine. There’s no reason to just hope. You’ve gone through a lot lately, and this is a way to process everything.”

Our caravan passed through a checkpoint, where a group of very hardy warriors searched the carts. Not only was this gathering well planned, but it was going to be well guarded as well. This made a few of us relax a bit more, as we descended the ridge into the hill valley below.

When we finally arrived at the lodge, we were given our orders as to where we were to stay. As per the custom of our warrior faction, men and women were separated unless they were married. I was to lodge in a modest lodge-hut with 5 other men, including one of my troopmates, Kazoyen.

A man of solid stature, and agile on his feet, Kazoyen was in a division of our forces, a division that dealt with fancy footwork and presentation that would distract and intimidate. They were kind of like our own version of ninjas. However, he would often be with our branch during the important struggles and enjoyed serving alongside us. He also knew where to forage for the best of our foods at camp.

“Hey, Kaz! It’s been a while! How’s the training with the crew?”

Kaz smiled back, as he put his stuff down in one of the bunks. He was sweating, which means he was likely done with a practice session.

“Doing well, Knight. We’ve been practicing three different footworks, and we’ll be presenting one of them this gathering.”
“I hope you’re not thinking about dropping a surprise on us. I heard that one of our leaders will be doing something crazy, as well.”
“Which one?”
“Carlton. Leader of the Harbor Crew.”
“Isn’t he known for doing crazy stuff every gathering?”

I chuckled, more out of unsurity than actual knowledge.

“You’d probably know more than me. I haven’t been to a gathering in so long. That was way back when I was in the Western Lands.”
“Ah! I forgot about that. You’re still a bit new to our gatherings,” he replied, while scratching the front of his beard.
“That’s okay. I hope to be fully initiated by the time the gathering has finished.”

After swapping out pleasantries, and getting our things unloaded, we both went out to the main stage at the top of Medicine Hill. Even though our caravan came in non-descriptly, I knew that other major groups would not be so understated. I also knew that this would be something I would want to see.

As both of us reached the top of the hill, we both saw Ilya. Besides him was Erika, his wife. They were standing amidst the makeshift chairs and benches, looking off towards one of the three main gates. We walked up, and I gave Ilya a slap on the back.

“How’s it going, sir?”

“Ah! Knight! Things are good. How has training gone?”

I hesitated, drawing a sharp breath through my teeth.

“Well, I have a lot of work to do. My handling is sloppy, and it doesn’t help that my sword is balanced right, but that I am not.”

“It’s okay. You’ve been out of the saddle for a while, so it’s going to take a while to get your bearings together.”

I looked over to Erika and smiled.

“Erika, how are things going with you?”
“They’ve been really well. It’s interesting when you are waiting to see what will happen. I have a feeling that this gathering is going to be very special.”
“How so?”
“I’m not sure, Knight. I just have this feeling that there will be lots of revelations, that there will be a time of change for some of us. I also heard we’re getting some special visitors coming in from a land far away.”

I gave her a raised eyebrow, and gave her a querying look.

“You mean, you didn’t hear about the small contingent that’s been forming down in Mill Stream?”
“Mill Stream? You mean, the city with all those artists and creative type folks?”
“Yep! The same ones. Apparently, there’s a very small band of warriors who are coming up to join us for the Gathering.”
“Who are they going to be doubling up with when they get up here?”
“The Harbor Division. They already met them a week ago, and they’re on the way up.”

I was about to give a response, when we heard a loud horn blow. It sounded deep and guttural, but beautiful. I ran over to the side of the hill’s plateau and looked towards the southwest. Almost immediately as I recognized the caravan that came in, I bust out laughing.

Carrying the red and blue colors of their army, the Harbor Division rode in relatively quickly. Their commander, a hardy commander named Carlton, was standing with his second commander, who also was his wife, Mari. She was blowing on what looked like a didgeridoo, as he was standing like a captain. He had one leg bent, while the other was straight. He had what looked to be a yellow-colored wig on and what I could only assume as a sports jersey of some sort. As the rest of the caravan came in, he started playing what looked to be Spanish bagpipes. I could recognize the music he was playing instantly, and it just made things all the more hilarious. It was a spectacle that was likely not to be topped by any other caravan, as the Harbor Division was known for being on the humorous and outlandish side of the warrior spectrum.

I laughed heartily, until I could barely even breathe. Erika and Ilya were getting ready for me, in case I keeled over from laughing too much. After a few moments of gathering my breath,  I stood again, ready to see more of the main caravan.

However, as the caravan finished passing through the gates, I noticed a blue standard with red and white stars following behind. I tapped Ilya on the shoulder and pointed, asking him which one that was.

“Oh, that’s the Mill Stream and Southern Harbor divisions. They’re currently under one banner while the Mill Stream folk get their training done.”

They were a small continent, all on one big wagon, but they were waving their standard with gusto. I realized that I absolutely must meet these people before the Gathering finished.

A movement out of the corner of my eye caught my attention, and I turned towards the western gate.

While quieter than the Harbor Division, the Forest Division were still a force to be reckoned with. The contingent was about the same size, maybe a slight bit smaller than the Harbor Division, but the deep green and blue of their standard was unmistakable. The commander, a slim man who carried respect and authority, stood atop the main wagon. Everyone simply referred to him as “Mikhail”, even though he did not look Russian at all. He held onto the hand of his second commander, who everyone simply called “Dream”. From the stories I was told of, she was someone who knew about the power of dreams, and many of our contingent spoke of her with high regard.

The contingent came in at a moderate pace, not looking at a lot of pomp and circumstance, but looking quite humble. It was as if respect was the main characteristic for their branch. They were the understated of all the divisions, but the power they held in their ranks was formidable. It would be foolish for any enemy to underestimate their resolve; that much was evident.

As both of the caravans cleared their respective gates, I turned my attention to the northern gate, where I heard the ringing of a bell. This was the newly re-christened Antioch Division. The bright yellow on their flags contrasted the deep blue also found on them. Being the largest division, they had the longest caravan. This was the flagship Division, the one from which all the others came. They had a lot to overcome in recent months, and the taking of Fort Antioch was a turning point for them.

At the front of the caravan was the commander of the division, and the major general to the entire group of divisions. No one has ever heard his real name, but everyone always just referred to him as “P.S.” To those who would look at him, they would think that he was a more rigid of a leader. But, once a person got to know him, they would see the humor come out almost quickly.

At his right hand was his wife, the brigadier general of the division that everyone just called “P.I.” Legends stated that she was given a heavenly blessing at the last Gathering, a memorable blessing, and that she had been taking time off. It wasn’t expected until the last day when in transit we found out she was going to be arriving. Needless to say, I was very excited that she was going to be around, as her words were very powerful.

The entire Antioch Division was a mix of all sorts of soldiers and warriors. There were so many different mixes, there was no way to really put in a theme or category for them. Which made them a category of their own, in certain ways. In the back of the caravan, I could hear crying out the words of someone that sounded very Latin or Spanish. She kept crying out behind her as the gate closed, and I looked to Kaz to find out what she was saying.

“Do you know?”
“I’m not sure, my romantic languages are rusty, but I think she’s saying ‘You do not come back to my house making noise with your pesky dancing shoes’. ”

My eyebrow went up, as I sat and thought about what was just said. I decided to file it away in my mind until later, hopefully to find out what it meant.

Last, but not least, I saw my crew. Coming through the western gate was our division, the Freedom Division. The caravan had our commander, Morgan, smiling and some small movements that one might have called dancing. He looked like a man who would have fun, and knowing him like I did, I knew he was a fun guy. I also knew that he took business seriously, which made the fun image a bit more unique.

I continued to look at the caravan, with Kaz, Ilya, and Erika giving waves to all those who came in. We waved at our compadres, who were looking around the gated compound with eyes full of wonder. Chesley and Siobhan were the first to see us, and they waved with bright, broad smiles on their faces. Brian and Kristi were guarding the middle. Brian kept watching around the caravan, while Kristi seemed to be jumping up and down with joy.

As all the caravans got into their places, I returned to our lodge with Kaz. He had to go and practice, but we would talk later. I decided to take a nap, in order to get things together for the night to come.

——–

Five hours later, while still tired, I awoke in time to hear the call to gather. Putting on my cleanest garments, I rushed out of the lodge to join my brothers and sisters in the Gathering.

I got up the side of the hill, and I was met by Chelsey, who was bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet.

“Knight! You made it! Tia’s been looking for you. She wants you to join her up front!”
“Up front? Well, it’s where I usually am for the monthly mini-gatherings. I may as well! Care to lead, sis?”

She beamed up at me, and walked me over to where Tia had taken a seat. Tia looked up at me, and gave me a bright smile. She jumped up to give me a hug, grinning broadly.

“Are you ready for this, Knight? Are you ready?”
“Uh…I hope so. It’s been 10 years since, and I really don’t remember how this all works. But I’ll do my best.”
“You’re gonna do fine! You’ve got the Spirit in ya, and that means everything.”
“Are you sure? I’m old hat. I’ve not done a lot of the stuff that you all have done before. I mean, I have danced…”
“Knight, don’t worry. Old and young have no worries. There are folks here approaching 50 who will go crazy in worship for our Lord. The optics are nothing, just pour it out and worship extravagantly.”

I was about to respond when we heard the call. We heard the voice of the second head of the martial corps, a lady of small stature but large heart whose name I had forgotten. She was one of the leaders of the Antioch Division’s martial corps, and they were ready to get us moving.

“People! Warriors! Let us rise to give praise to our Father! We have a lot of good things happening tonight, so let us prepare our hearts to give praise and receive His grace!”

As we started singing, I felt all of the self-consciousness start to slip away. Like dirt that was being washed away, all of the old thoughts started to drip off. The self-consciousness of many years, the worries about whether things were authentic, doubt, fear, all dripping off like water off armor. The beat poured into each and every heart in the assembly. While I could feel what all was going on around me, all of the sounds and feelings faded away until it was just myself, dancing and singing to my Lord.

In a glance, I was able to look around at so many different folks. Different warriors from the different division, all worshiping in their own ways. I saw a few fighters bouncing and jumping, and even one doing backflips. It was truly a show of freedom. I even saw Brian, my mentor and accountability brother, calling on his roots in his dancing. This was a blessed event, indeed. And this was only the first song.

We spent many minutes in worship, using movements that showed our reverence and thanks for His grace and his presence. I could easily see all of the warrior, all our divisions, their spirit becoming stronger with each bar.

Even as the music transitioned into slower musics down the line, the devotion that each warrior showed was incredible. Battle hardened warriors giving their all in worship. I saw Tia, sitting on the ground, raising her hands with her eyes closed. She exuded a peaceful, yet glorious reverence for our Lord.

After a good while of praise and worship for our God, we all saw P.S. walk up onto the stage area. Many of us moved to go back to our seats, when we heard him cry out.

“Stay! Let us continue to celebrate! I call for the new recruits of our divisions to come forward.”

As I started walking towards the front of the stage area, I didn’t know what to expect. I was a new recruit, but I knew that there was so much that I had yet to learn. I did not know whether I would be reproved for my failure, or whether I would have been rewarded, or even whether I would be passed over.

All of us, a great multitude, just stood with our eyes closed. We would be listening to what P.S. had to say, but we would also be spending more time in communion with the Great General himself.

To Be Continued…

 

 

 

by

Dull Swords

Dull Swords
by Miles H. Rost
(Part III of the Warrior Series)

(For parts I and II, please visit Unstoppable God, Invincible and Ambushed By Myself at their respective links

I had a long recovery after being beaten up and subsequently healed. Morgan, our leader, had taken the time to look at my sword and the armor that was carried off of me after I arrived back at the camp. He relayed a message to Brian, a message that would inspire a lot of worry and challenge. This was all in the space of a few days before the big Gathering that we were going to be attending.

“Hey!” Brian said to me, as I slowly started jogging around the camp, “We just got done with your assessment of your equipment.”

“What did you find?” I asked back, not looking at anything but the path in front of me.

“I don’t know what happened, but your equipment hasn’t been maintained very well. Has it not been given the proper upkeep?”

I just shrugged as I continued to jog. Brian put a hand on my shoulder, giving me the indication to stop.

“You don’t have to worry if you say yes.”

I stopped, and turned to face him at underneath a large oak tree. He continued to speak, as I looked at him.

“We get people in our camps all the time with equipment that’s falling apart. They try to take in battle, and they get thoroughly knocked around because of this. You, my brother, are not the only one who has to deal with severely corroded gear.”

I looked up at Brian and just couldn’t take it much more. I sat down at the base of the tree and the tears started flowing from my eyes.

“I’ve had that equipment for 18 years,” I cried out, “I’ve not had to use it much except in the last few months, when I joined with your crew.”

“That’s okay, brother. We’re not here to condemn you. As I said, everyone’s got corrosion on their armor. The difference is, are you going to work to repair your equipment, or will you be working to get new equipment. If you’re needing new equipment, do not be surprised that you will be able to get it. We walk by faith, and not by sight.”

After I told him that I would talk to him a little bit later, I just sat at the bottom of that tree and cried my eyes out. All of that frustration from being knocked around, and all of the pain of knowing I could not battle because I was exposed without armor, it flowed out like a raging river.

As I had dinner at the camp, Morgan sat down next to me. He looked out over the camp, over his army of warriors, then looked at me.

“You know, what’s happened to you is going to make you a stronger man. To fight heartily, it takes strong leadership,” he said, with a stern yet comforting edge to his voice, “With leadership and the coverage of our camp, you’ll be able to do a lot more. But you gotta listen, and you need to get in with our Father.”

I started in on the training the following morning. I spent all day trying to swing my dirty and pitted long sword, to spend time developing the skill. It kept slipping out of my hand after a while. I was so rusty, I couldn’t even understand how I could have withstood all of those Legion those weeks back.

I felt frustrated with each day of practice, each day where I kept losing my sword and losing all of my focus. The week was just incredibly hard, with attack after attack on my own confidence. I could feel many parts of it falling like a crumbling brick wall.

After one of my day long practice sessions, I sat in my tent silently. How could I get myself ready for the upcoming Gathering when I was so lost about everything. I heard a scratch at my tent, and looked up to see Brian poke his head in.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“Come on in. I’m really having a tough time today, to be honest. I just can’t seem to do my work, well or otherwise. I’m just concerned about a few things.”

He took a seat next to me, folded his legs, and put his hands under his bearded chin..

“So, tell me about it.”

“I feel like all this stuff with my equipment has just eroded me down. I mean, how am I to do the fighting against the enemies like I’m supposed to do if I still have all this corrosion on my work?”

“Well, soldier, you need to just remember that our assessment of your equipment just gives us an idea of what needs to be repaired. And we have a session of repair for you to experience coming soon.”

“Session of repair?”

“Yeah. See, we have an attachment with what we use for offense and defense. It’s a part of us, and just because it gets tarnished or corroded, it doesn’t mean it’s unfixable. In fact, if things get done right, it could be made as good as new.”

“Will this happen before the Gathering?”

“I’m not totally sure, but I have a feeling it will be done soon. In the meantime, I think you need to get some sleep. You need to rest as much as you can.”

I looked over at him, and gave a small sigh.

“Do you think the corrosion was affecting some of my other skills, as well?”

“I think lately, no. You were pretty good at the river battle. You just need to be mindful of where it starts, and how to take care of it before it gets too bad.”

I nodded, and I prepared my face for bed.

“Brian, thank you for being a great friend.”

“Don’t sweat it. I’m also your sergeant, so I have to make sure my people are well taken care of.”

The gathering of people would happen in two days. I needed to get my heart ready.

 

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Friday Fictioneers – Miss Ilene

No notes from the author. Let’s git it on!

© Marie Gail Stratford

Miss Ilene

by Miles H. Rost

“Welcome, Mr. President.”

“Alright, I’ve been brought here to find out about this Miss Ilene person that I keep being briefed about. Let’s go to her.”

“Well, we all have something we need to say before we let you in.”

The president looked at them squarely, as they pointed to the empty grain silo in the middle of the field, surrounded by numbers of guards at various intervals.

“Miss Ilene isn’t a person. It’s a thing.”

“Come again?”

The agent cleared his throat.

“Her full name is Miss Ilene Siloh. Miss Il Silo. Kinda get what we’re saying?”

The president glared at him, coughing slightly.

“Better not make her angry by standing her up. Let’s get inside.”

 

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Ambushed By Myself

Ambushed by Myself
(aka “I’ve Been Losing You”)
by Miles H. Rost

(Part II of the Warrior Series. For Part I, see Unstoppable God, Invincible)

 

We spent a few days at the rocky confluence of the two river, what we would later call the Ford of Light. We celebrated a major win there, repelling the legions back across the river and far away. Things were going well for all of us, including myself. We had victory, we were moving forward and taking territory that was once not thought possible to be taken.

A courier came to us with news that filled the masses in the camp with joy. Another of our divisions took over a fort, and were cleaning it up for a permanent use for all of our divisions. The fort was one of the Higher Legion’s forts, a difficult faction to drive out. It was done, however, and the fort was going to be rechristened Fort Antioch. An appropriate name, if I ever thought of one.

Eventually, our group had to make our way onward. We had more to do and didn’t want to spend too much time resting around. A small contingent stayed behind to secure the perimeter of the land and sanctify it, to make sure that the land would never fall back into enemy hands. They would later join up with us.

It was during our trek, through the high weeds of the plains that we would encounter, where things started to go a little haywire. At first, it was a mere stumble. One or two of us would walk a little too quickly and catch ourselves on some weeds. We’d stumble, but we’d eventually get back up. For me, I started to lag behind a little bit, as something was bothering me. Something wasn’t right with my body, and I told my fellow compadres that I may have needed to take a quick rest and get some water from the creek nearby. They asked if I needed someone to help. Chelsey even asked if I needed some help.

I told them no, that I would be back with them in a short while and that I wouldn’t be but a few moments.

I walked down to the creek to take in the water. Before I could even kneel down to lift some of the water, I felt the dizziness come. I stumbled to a nearby tree and held on for dear life, the vertigo and stuffiness in my face threatening to tear it apart. The feelings of helplessness and abandonment started to come quickly, and I held onto that tree for dear life. My life depended on that, and I screwed my eyes shut while dealing with all of the things that attacked.

That’s when I felt the pressure on the side of my belly, and the force that plowed me from the tree and onto the sandy ground. The forceful pain caused an ache to spread through my lower belly and down my thighs.

Suddenly, blow after blow rained down upon me. I barely was able to open my eyes, and when I did, I saw a large number of legionnaires ganging up on me and beating me something fierce. I knew each of the type of legionnaires that were hitting me, the color bands that identified their divisions.

A few of them wore red bands, showing they were trained in angry or lustful combat. A couple with yellow bands were trained to use guilt and shame, their blows hitting the soul just as much as the body. The ones that wore green were of the worry and envy wing, not as powerful but near lethal if left on a target for too long.

Each of them took turns beating. They used their feet, their hands, various weapons that they held. The beating was so fierce, I simply awaited my imminent death right there. But, just as it seemed like there was no hope left, I saw something magnificent.

I barely remember seeing it, but I saw fire at the end of a large log. I saw someone waving it around, and the legionnaires screaming in it’s presence. As the flaming club waved around, I saw one or two of the green-banded legionnaires get smacked in the face with a scepter.

The blows that were raining on me stopped, and the sounds of the legionnaires started to move away quickly.

I looked up at the people who had found me. I recognized the face of Chelsey, the scepter wielding woman of authority. The one who I liked to call “little sister”. She looked at me with a concerned and shocked expression, and looked over at someone else. I slowly moved my head, and I saw one of the guys who was in the backline in the last battle. I recognized Ilya, a man who was a soft-spoken man, but one of the firmest guys rooted. He looked down at me, and gave a smile.

“I’ve been where you are, man. We’ll get you taken care of.”

I felt myself get lifted up. I could barely see anything, my vision was so blurry. I could only feel things.

I was in the air, and I didn’t know which direction I was going. For what seemed like an eternity, I was on my back and being carried somewhere that I had no idea I was going to. The sun was beating down on me, and I felt my skin get quite hot as I was carried.

Suddenly, things got darker. I didn’t feel the sun on me anymore. I was able to perceive the sounds of different things around me, and small conversations.

“I need some help here. He’s been badly injured,” I heard Ilya say, “Maria, scrub up. I’m gonna need your help.”

I heard the bright voice of Maria, someone who I knew as a bright presence around the camp, reply in the affirmative as she moved around the area with what I could tell was an air of calm.

“He looks bad, want me to clear the air and make sure he’s surrounded well?”

The voice that I heard was one I recognized. He was my roommate in the tents when we slept within the camp. Nigel was a good man, someone who I knew as a healer of sorts. He was meticulous in his work, and put everything into it. When he told people that he was going to clear the air, he was not joking.

My eyes were barely open again, as I saw Ilya say a prayer of thanksgiving.

“Lord, we thank you for finding our brother here. We ask you for guidance, and declare that your hands will be on him as we work to help him heal. You are the great physician, and we ask you to guide us as we tend to our brother’s wounds. In your son’s name, Amen.”

I barely moved my head, and I saw Nigel close his eyes. He slowly waved his arms around, his hands like cups that moved the air around. A very soft green “mist” fell from the air around the surgical table, and a feeling of peace overflowed through the area.

Maria, the scrub nurse and the bright presence that helped to boost morale around, followed Ilya’s instructions, giving him the swabs with medicine and antiseptic on them. When he needed the healing balm, she was there to help him hand it.

I felt Nigel’s hand on my arm, firm and very warm. Ilya’s hand was on my other arm, hotter than Nigel’s and gripping very hard. Maria’s hand was gripping around my ankle, what I believe felt to be grounding me from all the other attacks that could have come.

A fourth hand came along to help grip my other ankle. I recognized the energy and scent immediately as that of my leader, Brian. I am not sure when he came along, but I just knew that he was praying and keeping me grounded.

I felt warmth, love, and understanding flow through me. I could feel understanding from Ilya, a combination of that and sympathy from Brian. I felt love and compassion flow from Maria’s hands into my system, and the friendship of Nigel mixing into the whole mess.

That was when I felt the intense heat that poured through my being, through my veins. The heat, and the peace that only came from the one I served.

I felt the muscles that were in knots and swollen from the beatings return back to normal. The puffiness of my face was reduced considerably. The internal pain I had felt slowly died down to a nothingness. My belly felt the rearrangement, the normalizing of my internal organs from where they were forced to where they needed to be.

Shortly thereafter, the heat stopped and the peace overcame the entire tent. I slowly sat up, my mind clear and eyes able to focus again. I felt forgiven, healed and nearly ready for battle again. Everyone smiled, as I swiveled myself off the medical table.

“Ilya, Brian, I need you two to do a favor for me,” I said, looking at both of them, “I need you to assist me if something like this happens again. I need you guys to make sure my accounting is correct and that if I don’t need something, I don’t get that something.”

Both men looked at each other, then looked back at me and nodded.

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Friday Fictioneers – When It Rains…

Here’s today’s work. Make sure you watch the video at the end…

 

copyright Madison Woods

When It Rains…

by Miles H. Rost

“The rain’s sure coming down today,” Kimiko said, flatly.

“Yep. Haven’t seen a downpour like this since the 2004 Hiroshima Superstorm,” Yomi remarked, with no expression on her face.

They watched as Gina, one of their friends, joined them on the steps of the old shrine, under the cover of the ornate building.

“Alright, I got the bucket.”

Kimiko’s face did not change one bit.

“What’s with the spigot?”

“Well, we catch the water, and we take only what we need.”

“…”

“Did I overthink it too much?”

“Yep.”

Gina sat down, the flat looks of the others slowly melding into her own face.

And they sat there for the entire day, watching their rain bucket fill up.

 

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Friday Fictioneers – Willy!

Author’s Note: Welcome again. Things were busy this week, and I’ve been confined to my bed due to a nasty head cold that my unforgiving students gave to me. So, nothing new came out since last week. Hopefully, things will change this week.

copyright Dee Lovering

Willy!

by Miles H. Rost

“I saw something like this in London.”

Margot Boyndon looked bored as her family zipped through the streets.

“Oh, really”, her brother asked.

“Yeah, it was in the center of this square. It looked like a willy.”

“Margot! Don’t use those words in the car!” Her mom screamed from the front, whipping her head around to glare at her only daughter.

“It’s true. It looks like some private part that’s been pointed in the air. Kinda like Dad’s.”

The car swerved slightly, her father trying to regain his concentration.

“Margot! How dare you!”

“C’mon, Mom. I walked in on you two dussying it up in the living room.”

The rest of the trip was quiet, as they made their way…in the car…to the Portugal/Spain border.

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Friday Fictioneers – Day After Day (The Show Must Go On)

Author’s Note: I want to give a thank you to everyone who has been reading, and especially the new readers that have come over to my blog due to “Unstoppable God / Invincible”. Quite happy with the response. Here’s today’s Friday Fictioneers offering for you all.

PHOTO PROMPT – © Douglas M. MacIlroy

Day After Day (The Show Must Go On)

by Miles H. Rost

“Cold weather astronomy. Nothing like it.”

Bob looked at his colleage, Dr. Benjamin, and smiled.

“Can you imagine seeing all of the different stars that we couldn’t see from even Tierra Del Fuego?”

“I’m glad we took up this chance to do so.” Dr. Benjamin replied, before pausing a moment. He pointed to the sky, tracing a bright object.

“Look at that! It’s a meteor!”

Bob looked up, and his eyes got wide.

“Dr. Benjamin, that’s not a meteor. That’s something totally different. The color pattern is not yellow. It’s bright blue. We have a UFO.”

He pressed the button on his radio, but only heard clicking and static.

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Unstoppable God, Invincible

Unstoppable God, Invincible
by Miles H. Rost

Legion upon legion, they stood. Oily, evil, sick looking and mean.

We stood upon a small ridge of crushed rock, jagged spears of basalt and hard stones. The place was the confluence of two rivers, and this area was relatively flat. The sky was a burning red, a late-afternoon sun that cast a red glow across this battlefield. The beauty of the trees and the rolling hills stood stark in the background behind the legion.

We faced these before. Each of us individually. We were caught off guard by them through the week, and we were in need of some real help. That’s when we took to the knees. As we knelt, focused, and raised up all of this to the Lord we serve, we landed at this battlefield. I saw many of my friends, fellow believers, and we were defiant. The legion below wanted to push us back again, and the captain of our army got us ready.

I saw some of my friends, the ones who have helped shepherd me along in my quick journey to this point in time. Many of the folks that I would call ‘compadres’, they stood with their eyes focused, they jaws squared, and their eyes burning with a passion and fight that one could never have seen before.

We heard a short squeal as the legion came towards us, taking the initiative to attack. As they got to the bottom of the rock pile on which we stood, we heard the words we were waiting for.

“Take it back!”

Our ragtag group of nearly 100 clashed with a legion. I waited just a moment before charging down the pile, hoping to help get in and take care of cleaning up the legionnaires that were inevitably going to fall.

Leaping from my right, graceful yet strong, was Chelsey. A short, but firy young lady, she became one of my closest friends in this congregation. I saw her leap from behind me, her normally dark hair looking a bit lighter, shouting a war cry as she lept into the foree. She had a braid down one side, which made her look very warrior-like. She wielded in her hand a mace, a heavy club with what looked like a crown at the top of it. Something in my soul told me that she was speaking with authority and with conviction. She was going to do some damage, believe me.

I looked to my left and I saw Tia. She stood with her left foot in front of her right, her face looking farther back than up in the front. Her neck-length blonde hair slightly moved in the light breeze, her face full of focus and intent. In her hands was a bow and arrow, stretched back and ready to let go. She was aiming for the reinforcements, the ones in back that would cause more damage as our forces started to wear down. Her arrows were prayerful, full of truth, and highly damaging to the legionnaires who liked to use trickery and lies. I was in awe, to say the least.

A little farther down the line to the left,  I saw Brian and Kristi, my close friends and leaders. They were on the charge, looking to get in and do some beating down. Brian’s dark hair was blowing behind him, and behind his trimmed beard lay a mouth that was gritting teeth. Kristi, his wife and a veteran of many harsh battles, ran right next to him. The scars up and down her arms indicative of the previous battles with entities very much like the ones we were battling. Both of them were bearing down upon the legionnaires with gauntlets on her hand and forearms. They are our protectors, getting into the melee and taking the fight to the enemy rather than just sitting back and waiting.

On the other side, the right side and a little farther down, I saw Siobhan. A great lady of the Lord with a voice of passion, she looked intense as she ran right into the throng of legionnaires. She was swinging only what I could have thought was a two-handed axe. She was someone who wasn’t afraid to get into the thick of the battle, and I was quite proud that she was on that side.

Our commanding officer, Morgan, was standing up top. He was giving out the orders. A strong man of faith, a big man of action, he was someone who you definitely wanted to have in your corner. His words were coming out strong, and as they came out, there was strengthening of resolve among the ranks.

In my hands, I saw a short sword. It was sharp, made for cutting through and crying out for justice. This was the first major battle that I was getting into and actually remembering. I rushed past Tia and right straight towards one of the ugliest legionnaires I could have faced. It was quite a fearful one, and very much one that I knew could have hurt me had there not been protection. As I brought the sword down across the legionnaire, crying out the Lord’s name, I knew that it was from the tribe of Fear. It’s only words as it was being cut in half were, “You can’t be a leader”.

The battle raged on for a good long while, and many of our ranks were wearing down and getting worn. Some of my friends stayed back up on the rock pile, spreading their hands and with the Lord’s grace, healing those on the frontlines. Refreshment and restocking came throughout the long battle. Legionnaire after legionnaire fell to the various weapons that we all held, given to us by our Lord and general.

The great legion that had been provoking and attacking throughout the week, who were trying to do a full onslaught this time, were losing their numbers quickly. The ground became black as the legion lost their ranks. But as quickly as it became black, the blackness was washed away. While the rocky bar we fought on was wet, none of us seemed to slip. We stood firm, and we were fighting very very hard.

The battle raged on for what seemed like hours. By the time it finally was done, the leftover legionnaires ran for the hills. Their numbers were decimated. We walked back up to the rock pile, victory in our hands and fire in our veins. We looked into the sun, which had cleared the side of the mountain and shone upon us. The aftermath of the raging battle was quite different.

—

Chelsey’s hair was slightly messed up, but her expression was one of satisfaction in the job that the Lord had given her.

Tia stood strong and with fortitude. The string of her bow was a slight bit frayed from the vast number of arrows fired, but she exuded a strong calm that only the Lord could give her.

Brian and Kristi reached the top of the rock pile, arm in arm, smiling broadly as they lifted their steel gloved fists in victory

Morgan, our chief, looked solemn but pleased. He knew this battle needed to be fought, even if his plans had said otherwise. But as he looked at all of us, he made certain to drop a word of prayer to each one who returned to the top in victory.

Siobhan’s hand was wrapped in a brace, but as she held her axe up, she smiled. The blackness on the axe gave way to the shiny steely sheen of her weapon. She leaned over, and rested her arm on her knee, as she looked into the evening sun.

I slowly reached the top of the ridged rock pile, putting my right foot on a rock, bending it and resting my sword on the knee.

—–

As we stood, looking at the territory that we had reclaimed, we heard one of the other soldier start singing. It was soft, but as time went along, the song gained more people’s voices. Like a wave, the song rang through and soon everyone was singing:

Unstoppable God, let your glory go on and on
Impossible things, in your name they shall be done

Nothing shall be impossible
Your kingdom reigns unstoppable
We’ll shout your grace forevermore
Jesus our God unstoppable

A few moments after we were done singing, we started walking down the hill again. All close to 100 of us, walking together in victory, walked to the edge of one of the rivers. We stood on the shoreline of the river, in a line. The legion were not going to be getting this piece of earth back anytime soon.

This was Christ’s land. His blood won it, and his grace allowed us to defend it. That is something we are proud of.

 

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Friday Fictioneers – I Am The One And Only

Author’s Note: Very busy this week due to Australia stuff. Hence why no posts since last weekend. Got some downtime coming up, meaning more posts. 6 more weeks, and I’ll be able to post a lot more. Here’s your offering for today!

Copyright – Roger Bultot

I Am The One And Only

by Miles Rost

“Hey! Whitey! You look like you’re burning up!”

“C.H., just leave me alone.”

“But why? You are in trouble. you need help.”

“You’re the reason why this has happened!”

“I didn’t tell my tenants to come to you and start you on fire.”

“No, but I’m sure you did something to get them to do it.”

“Well, I did tell you that you should get yourself checked out in case something did happen. Gotta keep your health in good shape.”

“Yeah, and now your advice is going to kill me.”

“I did tell you that I’m the one and only on this block. Should have listened to me!”

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Friday Fictioneers – Train of Thought

Author’s Note: Welcome aboard yet again! Most of you have noticed that today’s offering is a bit late. That’s because a lot of things have happened this week regarding my potential move to Australia. Things should be stable, and because of that…here’s your story for today! 

copyright Jennifer Pendergast

Train of Thought

by Miles H. Rost

Obedience.

Lucas Milford hated hearing that word, in the modern context. His commute and his job, though, were the biggest forms of forced obedience for him.

He looked around the subway car, seeing all the gray and black suits and dresses. He wondered for just a moment whether he would be able to survive it all.

“Pulling into 92nd Street. Next stop: 112th Street – Broadway Station” the speaker droned out.

Lucas sighed as the train pulled one stop closer to his home. He started to close his eyes.

A flash of yellow streaked by him.

His eyes shot open, and he looked around. He spied the lemon yellow dress of a beautiful woman, whose green eyes bore into his, and red hair screamed out “different!” to him.

“Such…color…” he said, as the woman started moving closer to him.