Book

The ground began shaking, a violent seizure that disoriented Karaj. He watched as a few of his men fell to their knees in fear, beseeching Almighty Jiddar. Most of the soldiers stayed on their feet, legs spread wide, arms outstretched; attempting to keep their balance as the land continued to spasm. 

 Karaj’s stallion reared in fear, and nearly threw him to the ground. A few soft spoken words quieted the frightened mount, though fear still danced in his eyes. 

 Karaj pulled his spyglass from his belt, and quickly looked towards Mount Shivaz. As his eyes fell upon the mountain, a grayish-black cloud erupted forth from its peak. Karaj lowered the looking glass, watching as the ash began to cover the sky in all directions, spreading from horizon to horizon. Day turned to night as the smoke swallowed the sun, blotting out its very existence.

 Before the land had fully stopped shaking another tremor, smaller than the first, rippled through the ground, and at that moment the top half of Mount Shivaz exploded outwards. The detonation sent portions of the mountain spiraling outwards. A red, fiery liquid bubbled forth from the mountain’s peak, and began a swift descent to the valley floor.

 Ignoring the ringing sound that filled his ears, Karaj once again raised the spyglass to his eyes. He watched as the blazing liquid leaked down the mountain’s side like hundreds of blood filled rivers. The lava bursting from the mountain reminded Karaj of the famed fountains of Dubar, as the droplets cascaded into the air.

 Karaj moved the spyglass downwards so that he was looking at the foot of the mountain, and that which awaited the volcanoes wrath.

 Ketesh was one of the largest cities in Dalhar, and home to hundreds of thousands. Ketesh was the only city in Dalhar that offered, as they called it, “religious freedom”. Instead of only following the teachings of the (book here) as laid down by Jiddar, they allowed the worship of all the gods. Such heresy could not go unpunished.

 The wicked citizens of Ketesh had been warned that they must turn away from their sins and worship the One true God, Jiddar. If they failed in doing so, they would be utterly wiped from the face of the earth.

 Now the city was covered in ash, and the river of fire was nearing the city walls, they had refused to obey. Thousands would die in a matter of minutes, their deaths acting as a herald to the world. Karaj considered it harsh, for not all the people of Ketesh deserved such a fate. But the Holy Zahid had spoken, and his was the Word of God. Who was Karaj to question the Almighty?

 Karaj was beginning to worry though. Zahid had gone himself to punish the city, and he had not been seen for hours. Could the Son of God have been killed by the explosion? Zahid was God, but perhaps a God made flesh could suffer the same fate as any mortal.

Besides, thought Karaj, no man could control a volcano and hope to live! I pleaded with him not to go. He should have sent one of the High Priests; they were more than willing to sacrifice themselves. Zahid had only been among us for three years, his work here is surely not complete!

 Karaj glanced around at his men, noticing that many appeared to be having the same thoughts as himself. Some of the men were still on their knees, but they were no longer praying for deliverance, rather they were praising the name of Zahid.

 I shouldn’t be having these doubts, he is the Son of God. He will return.

 Karaj turned his gaze back towards the inferno, once again lifting the spyglass to his eye. If there was something to see, Karaj would find it. The mountain was still spewing forth lava, adding to the sea of fire that had pooled at Ketesh’s walls. It wouldn’t be long before the city was annihilated.

 Scanning the area around Mount Shivaz turned up nothing. Karaj moved the spyglass towards the belching flames at the mountain’s peak. A ripple of motion caught his eye, and he jerked the glass towards it. Something was moving away from the mountain, picking up speed and moving towards the army.

 As the thing neared, Karaj could tell that it was no rock being launched from the exploding mountain, but rather was a man. Someone had just flown out of the flames, and was coming straight at them.  

 Could it be the Son?

 Karaj dismounted, and watched as the man flew in closer. Karaj began to discern individual details, and knew that it was Zahid returned. He was clothed in a white robe, and though he had flown through the flame and ash of a volcano, there was not a single speck of dust nor any burn marks upon him. His jet black hair remained still, unmoved by the currents of air he streaked past.

 Zahid flew in and stopped at the army’s edge. Not a sound was heard, nor a disruptive ripple felt as the air holding him aloft slowly brought him to the ground and dissipated. Zahid looked towards the army with his piercing black eyes. The weight of his gaze made one feel as if their very soul was being measured. Every dark deed was seen, and not even the most trivial act could go unnoticed.

 “I have returned,” stated Zahid matter-of-factly, as if tens of thousands of men hadn’t seen him fly through the fire and ash of a volcano.

 Karaj could only stare at the Son in awe, completely at a loss for how to respond. Zahid then turned and fixed his eyes upon Karaj. At that moment, Karaj fully understood the power that was the Son’s to command, and for the first time ever, Karaj was afraid.

 Karaj began to panic. His throat constricted, causing his breathing to become erratic. It was like an invisible band of air had wrapped itself around Karaj’s throat, squeezing the life from Karaj with giant-like strength. Karaj’s eyes widened, darting too and fro, unable to focus on any one thing. He broke into a violent sweat, the entirety of his body drenched in seconds. Karaj’s body began to shake uncontrollably; brutal trembling that would surely cause more damage than the two earthquakes combined. Karaj licked his lips incessantly, attempting to wet his suddenly dry mouth.

 Why am I afraid of my own God! What is wrong with me? Strike me down, Father, before I shame myself!

 As if reading his thoughts, Zahid tilted his head to one side and frowned. The Son considered Karaj for but an instant, and then shook his head as if making up his mind.

 Zahid walked up to Karaj and softly whispered in a voice smoother than silk, and more seductive than a woman’s caress. “Fear not, my son. I know and understand your fears. Before you stands the Son of Jiddar. Only a fool would not be afraid.”

 Zahid slowly reached out and lightly laid his palm on Karaj’s forehead. The touch was a strange mixture of fire and ice. It seared him to the core, and yet rejuvenated the very essence of Karaj’s soul. He felt a new sense of being course through his body. All the fear and doubt within his heart melted away. He felt whole.

 The Son retracted his hand, and the loss of his God’s touch awoke Karaj from his dark reverie.

 Karaj shook himself and turned towards the awaiting army. Karaj bellowed in a voice amplified by magic, “All Hail, Zahid! Savior of Man! Son of God!”

 Karaj threw himself to the ground; arms outstretched, and continued the litany as other voices joined his in praising His name. More and more picked up the cry until all were exalting the Lord with every fiber of strength they could muster. The sound of tens of thousands of soldiers crying out for their Savior was enough to drown out the roar of the volcano.

 It was nearly enough to drown out the hundreds of thousands of fearful, wailing cries from the dying city of Ketesh. 

Matthew 1:23-25

 23. Behold, a mudblood shall be with child

And shall bring forth a son,

And they shall call his name Chosen-One

Which being interpreted is, Johnny with us.

 24. Then James being raised from sleep did as the owl of the Johnny had bidden him, and took unto him his wife:

 24. And knew her not till she had brought forth her firstborn son: and he called his name Harry Potter.

The Last Battle

A gentle breeze stirred the flag that had become the symbol of his army. A to C the banner read. A welcome sight for what was at any moment about to occur. Jonathan Smith knew that the odds were against his army; this was a battle they could not win. The enemy was strong, and his army of ill trained men and women would be no match.

The sound of a thousand trumpets reverberating through the Valley of Finals tore Jonathan from these foul thoughts. They were here. They had come.

The opposing army filed onto the field of battle, rank upon rank. Dust flew up around the army, obscuring their numbers and formations. But there was little doubt that this was an army of darkness and evil. An army that knew not the meaning of the word “defeat”.

The dust began to settle and Jonathan balked at the sight of the massing men. Tens of thousands of troops, all bent towards destroying the soldiers before them. It appears that the seers had been correct, the Last Battle had arrived.

Many moons ago the seer of Syllabus had prophesied the coming of a great army that would conquer all in its path. Upon hearing this, Jonathan had begun gathering men that he hoped would be capable of opposing this Horde. Too little was done, and it was too late to worry. Jonathan knew that the past was behind him, it was time to look at the present and fight for the future.

The enemy army began arranging themselves in battle formation, movements Jonathan had expected after extensive study. Two legions of Essays formed up on both sides of the army; they would perform a flanking maneuver, hoping to cut down the students from the side. One legion of long ranged Short Answers were in the rear, Jonathan knew his army would see their questions first. Ten legions, the pride of the Cumulative Army, formed up at the center. A seething mass of paper and ink, the Multiple Choice. Held in reserve were the True and False, used only by the enemy in dire situations. The force was led by a four star Professor, Dr. Barrett.

Jonathan tore his eyes away from the sight and looked at his army of Students. Militia that were poorly dressed, had eaten nothing but ramen the past week, and most did not even know which end up the pencil to use. Twenty men and women, that was all that Jonathan had been able to find, and they were facing an army that neared a hundred thousand strong.

The Student Army was equipped with stout pencils held in the dominate hand, these would be used until they broke. In the off hand were the back-packs with the symbol of the army blazoned upon the front. The unwieldy scantrons were at the moment sheathed, they were used primarily for close range combat.

Jonathan knew he must do something to bolster the wilting courage of his peers. He could see fear shining in many eyes. Yes, he must do something. Stepping out in front of the army, Jonathan began a speech that would stir the hearts of millions of students. A speech that would spark the flame of passing.

“I am Jonathan Smith! And I see a whole army of my classmates, here, in defiance of failing. You’ve come to fight as passing men, and passing men you are. What will you do without that passing? Will you fight?”

Soldier: “Against that? No, we’ll drop, and we’ll live.”

“Aye, fight and you may fail, drop, and you’ll live…at least for a while. And sitting in your desks, many years from now, would you be willin’ to trade ALL the days, from this day to that, for one chance, just one chance, to come back here and tell our professors that they may give us C’s, but they’ll never take…OUR PASSING!”

A roar went up from the twenty students, pencils were banged upon back-packs, feet stomped upon the carpeted floor. They may have only begun studying the night before, but Jonathan knew they had a chance, small though it might be, but still a chance to pass. For Jonathan had handed them a weapon mightier than a thousand legions of Cheat Sheets, he had given them hope.  

The Seventh Trumpet

Revelation 11:15-18

The Seventh Trumpet