I Am Courage

       Draped in robes of white satin, Lotus serves Yirah. She captures Yirah’s prey, the Reeshaw tribe who live in the valley below Yirah’s mountain, and brings them as sacrifices before his throne. When the Reeshaw see even a glimpse of Yirah, they fall to their faces, trembling in fear. Yirah does not take their lives in the way one might think but captures their life in perhaps a worse way. His servant Lotus imprisons the Reeshaw in impenetrable iron cages. Hanging from the ceiling of the castle dungeon, the rattling cages swing back and forth. Lotus does not bother with a lock and key, for she knows her master would not want the Reeshaw to have any opportunity of escape. The Reeshaw always moan in agony and pain, for Yirah absorbs every negative emotion from them. These emotions not only serve to make him more powerful but also serve to strengthen his soldiers: Anger, Depression, Fear, and many more.  

        I am Courage, and prophecies of old have foretold my birth since the beginning of time. Many prophets have spoken of me, but Vir is the greatest prophet of them all. Without fear, old and wise, the old stories say Vir climbed the treacherous mountain Yirah calls his own. Lotus captured his weak old bones easily and brought him before Yirah’s throne. Yirah sought to absorb Vir’s negative emotions, but the only feelings he exuded were peace and wisdom, for Vir was closer to Adonai then any Reeshaw had ever been. These emotions were displeasing to Yirah, and he brought down his staff to smite Vir, but Vir held up his hand and spoke the name of Adonai. Yirah shrieked in anger, but neither he nor Lotus were able to move. Adonai held power over Yirah, and Yirah hated him because of it. Yirah believed one day he would grow more powerful than Adonai–powerful enough to kill Adonai and take his place as God over the Reeshaw.

        Still paralyzed, Yirah and his servant Lotus listened as Vir spoke clearly, his voice resounding across the castle walls.

         “I bring you a message from Adonai himself. As stated by prophets of old, in ten years a boy will be born halfway into harvest time on the night of a blood moon. He shall be born from peasants, with no nobility attached to his family name. No other Reeshaw has been or shall ever be born on the same day as this boy. When he reaches the age of eighteen, according to the custom of my people the Reeshaw, he will receive his name. He will be given the name Courage and will be sent by Adonai to destroy both you and those who serve you.”

A great weeping and gnashing of teeth rose from Yirah and the hordes of his servants. Yirah grew angrier and angrier when he regained movement, swirling in the form of wind around the room. Vir was caught in the spirals of Yirah’s movement, and Vir’s brittle bones rattled as he flailed pathetically around the throne room. Finally, Yirah ceased moving and dropped Vir to the ground. Yirah looked down upon Vir and found him to be almost dead with a peaceful expression upon his face which surpassed all understanding.

Vir’s face glowed brighter and brighter as he shouted, “I SEE HIM! I SEE HIM!” 

Furiously, Yirah struck him down with a bolt of lightning.

After the prophet’s death, Yirah would not only take his human sacrifice’s negative emotions but their names, too. The priest of Reeshaw says Yirah chose to react in this way to counter the prophecy Vir told him. According to Yirah, if no one had a name, then I, Courage could never exist. My name is my most prized possession, and the priest told me I must never lose it or I would truly cease to exist not in body but in mind.

I received my name two days ago on my eighteenth birthday. Most of the Reeshaw call me “Spineless,” for I am afraid of everything. They laughed when the priest named me, saying, “This cannot be the one prophesied, for he is afraid of his own shadow. Courage! Bah! This is a joke!”

Jeering, my people threw sticks and stones at my head. I cowered underneath the stage, wriggling in dirt with the dogs. I felt lower than the dogs themselves, for at least they were fed the scraps from the Reeshaws’ table. It seemed like an eternity, but the Reeshaw grew tired and left me to tend my wounds. I was left hurt, alone, and hungry because my people had rejected me. At least the dogs helped me by licking my wounds.

         A strange man clothed in purple came to me while I lay in the dirt. He held out his hand to help me off the ground, carrying himself like a king and speaking like one, too. Despite his obvious nobility, he was kind and talked with me graciously. Never before had a person been so kind to me besides the priest. He walked with me down the stone path to the temple where I had always served the priest. The temple is full of silk, velvet, gold, silver, and other luxurious things. The fragrance of oil filled my nose and left me impressed with the feelings of glory and holiness. The priest has taught me in the ways of serving Adonai ever since the age I attained manhood. A child is considered a man by the time he turns twelve, and a great ceremony is held to commemorate the event. At this age, a man starts his apprenticeship and family.

I, however, was not allowed to start a family because my occupation is holy. 

The priest always believed I was the prophesied one because I was born on the night of a blood moon halfway through harvest time. My parents died two nights later in a fire believed to be from Yirah or Lotus. The priest took me in and raised me as his own son. Throughout my childhood, the priest told me stories of Adonai and his prophets of old. Mostly, he talked of Adonai and Vir. I always aspired to be like the prophets of Adonai, especially Vir, but such aspirations ceased when I realized how feeble I truly was. My head was full of

knowledge and my heart full of faith, but I lacked strength.

         The priest saw the strange, purple-clothed noble and me walking from afar, and his face filled with shock. He tore his robe and fell to his face before the kind stranger.

         “This truly must be a king,” I thought to myself.

         The temple servants brought repast to the noble and the priest bid me to wash his feet. The king rested in the richest room in the temple that night and told the priest and me to meet with him in the orchard the next day. We met with the noble during sunrise in the old gazebo between the grove of apple trees. He recited the tradition of the Reeshaw where every newly named person must make the dangerous trek up Yirah’s mountain as a show of faith to Adonai. It was a ceremony which took place every year; some returned, but others were claimed by Yirah. The prophet Vir had returned when he was a young man only to be killed by Yirah in his old age when Adonai sent him to warn Yirah of his upcoming doom. The king turned to me, looked me in the eyes, and gently said, “Courage, Adonai has a special task for you on the trek up the mountain. Yirah has taken land and people that are not his to claim. According to the prophets, Adonai chose you to destroy Yirah and make him pay for the consequences of his crime.”

I looked at the king in despair. Although I wanted to be the prophesied one with all my soul, I could not possibly be Courage. The priest, and apparently the king, too, had made a grave error in judgment. Then I trembled before him and told the king he and the priest must be mistaken.

         “I am weak and fearful. The Reeshaw are right when they call me Spineless. May Spineless be my name now instead of Courage.”

         “You forget, servant of Adonai. Did you think the priest named you Courage? No, Adonai gave you the name Courage, and with courage you will face Yirah and his servants on the mountain. Fear not. Though you cannot see Him, Adonai will be guiding you through your journey. But be warned, you must not take your trust and faith away from Him, for then you will surely die,” the king replied to my feeble complaint.

         One week later, before sunrise, I began my trek up the mountain. I brought only a few pieces of bread bundled in a red knapsack and a canteen of water hung from my shoulder. The dogs from Reeshaw followed me, and no matter how hard I tried, I could not drive them back to safety. So I walked up the mountain with my army of flea-ridden dogs. The sun shone, the birds sang, and my dogs chased anything that looked like a squirrel. I thought the trek was going to be easier than expected, but I happened to peek across a ledge and saw a giant staring down at me. His body made of large boulders, he had red hair and orange eyes. When I crawled closer, the giant started to shoot arrows from the fiery pupils in his stone eyes. A flaming arrow struck one of my poor, mangled dogs, and she fell to the ground.

        I dropped to my knees, petrified, and barely managed to gasp out the name of Adonai. The giant simply stared at me and then pelted sharp rocks and large branches more vehemently than he had shot the arrows. Flames surrounded me, the earth shook around me, and dense, flaming objects whistled past my head. Nonetheless, I began to feel a strength I had never felt before, managing to shout Adonai’s name louder than I was able to the first time.Watching the giant growing more and more perturbed, I repeatedly shouted the name of Adonai louder and louder. I was losing hope that Adonai was listening when I looked up and realized that in his anger, the giant had burst into flames. Of course, I naturally believed Adonai really was ignoring me, and my fight with the now fiery giant would grow worse. However, much to my surprise, the angry giant exploded at the mere mention of Adonai’s name.

        I climbed up the ledge, choosing my footholds wisely. The mountain was peaceful now, but I was not naïve enough to believe this peace would last. Even so, I did not let anxiety about an upcoming monster stop me from enjoying the present. Coming across a plateau, I drank from a sparkling stream, catching and eating the silvery fish along with a few pieces of bread. Following the ripples and splashing in the stream delighted both the dogs and me. I did not believe the plateau could get more enchanting than it already was, but then, the loveliest fairy appeared before my eyes. Her hair was made of shimmering water and her eyes of sparkling diamonds. When she spoke, her voice sounded like music. Regardless, the more we spoke to each other, the gloomier I felt. I closed my eyes, wanting to melt into her cheerful melody, but the rhythm grew despondent. I felt faint as my strength slowly slipped away.

The fairy softly urged me to sit against a tree. She said it would make me feel better, but my condition did not change. I tried to stand up, but some unknown force kept me locked to the ground. Everything was foggy, and I was exhausted, but I could not succumb to sleep. I looked up at the beautiful fairy again, hoping to find solace and comfort within her. She looked different now, and it frightened me. Hovering above me, the fairy was now white as a ghost with a murderous look upon her disfigured face.

The ghostly figure continued to mock and laugh at me before saying, “I am Lotus, servant of Yirah, and this is Yirah’s mountain. Adonai has no power here.” As she spoke, the water in the stream rose up behind her and drenched her hideous appearance. The droplets seemed to whisper to me, “I am with you always, my son.” Then the water formed itself into a sword and seemed to hand itself to me. I knew it was a sign from Adonai and used the sword to smite Lotus. The sharp edges of the water like blades slashed across her ghostly body; she died looking at me in fear.

My dogs and I continued hiking up the mountain when I spotted an orchard in the middle of a dry area. Guarded by a circle of cactuses, this orchard was the most beautiful sight I had ever seen, even more elegant than the orchard back home and more beautiful than the tainted fairy. Finding a gate hidden by moss, I entered into the breathtaking orchard and ate from the apple and pear trees, smelling all the blossoms in between. I found a waterfall to drink from and ate from the berry bushes next to it. Knowing Adonai provided this place for solace and rest, I sent prayers of thanks to Him. The mountain was now dark, gloomy, and cold as I left the garden. My dogs and I huddled together more for comfort than warmth. From my vantage point, I could see a tall black castle with spiky steeples. The castle was aflame, but it did not burn or explode.

“Adonai, help me,” I whispered under my breath as I opened the heavy doors.

I walked straight into the royal room and faced Yirah. He looked me in the eyes, and although he was a man and looked like me, he was the most intimidating person I had ever laid my eyes upon. I thought the giant was horrifying, but Yirah was much worse. He did not keep his human form for long but turned into a great big thundering cloud. Lightning flashed on every corner around me, and I fell to my knees in fear. I trembled before him just as I knew I would before I started on this long journey. I could sense the fear, anger, and other distressing emotions emitting from his cloudy form. All of his emotions began to pelt me as raindrops, hail, and the like. I could not possibly believe Adonai could be more powerful than Yirah at the moment, but I still shouted his name. I was afraid, but I had learned there was strength to be found in the name of Adonai. He had not failed me before, and surely, he would not make it a habit now. When I shouted Adonai’s name and prayed, the cloud became smaller and smaller until Yirah began to devolve into an old weak hunchback.

Yirah thought he had power on this mountain, that this mountain was his. He was wrong, for this land and everything in it belonged only to Adonai. Lighting fell from the heavens above and formed  a sword much like the water had in the battle against the deceptive fairy. I used the lightning sword to remove Yirah’s head from his body. I watched in shock as he disintegrated into dust. After the dust vanished, I heard not only metal falling to the ground but also people cheering and shouting prayers of thanksgiving to Adonai. At last, exhausted from my long journey, I collapsed on the cold ground.

When I woke up, I found the king staring down at me. I suddenly understood who he was in that moment. “My servant, Courage,” Adonai said. “You have done well. You have carried out my will and completed the task I sent you to do for my people, and now, you will be rewarded greatly.”

“Where am I?” I asked. The room shone brighter than the temple itself. I could look outside the window and see people of all ages playing and laughing. They even played with the foxes and bears. “We are not in Reeshaw, are we?

“No, my son,” Adonai said. “You reside where I and your ancestors abide.” I finally understood what he meant, and I had never been more joyful than when I walked outside with him. My mission was complete.