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With a frown of consternation, Desmond looks from Grendel to his companions in the hut. "I don't think she can help," he echoes loudly, "but, maybe it should clear on it's own. Perhaps it is a test of the Lord, but nevermind. My heart is filled with purpose. We were brought here for a reason. We must reach the Citadel and we must help Jasper follow his dream." He stands with resolve and blesses Grendel with the sign of the cross, "I Thank you for the effort. Peace be with you."
Desmond kneels and does as the witch says. He can tell there’s some chit chat between the witch and his companions but can’t follow along. As soon as she lays her hands on him and he feels the tingling of magic, but his hearing doesn’t return, he looks to her quizzically. ”I’m sorry, but is something wrong?!” he shouts directly at her.
Following the cues of the others, Desmond approaches the hut. Sure looks like a witches hut, straight out of the storybooks and fairytales. Of course he doesn’t hear the voice, and ducks through the entrance unannounced. He stands a moment as he takes in the interior of the hut before addressing its resident with a bow. ”Hello, I am Father McKinley, you can call me Desmond. I am told you can restore my hearing,” he booms.
Meanwhile, Desmond is not letting his deafness trouble him. Although he's mostly out of the loop in conversation, there's a sort of peaceful solitude in that. And besides, he knows that he already knows exactly what he is supposed to know. For now he is just following along, trusting that they are on the right path.
Desmond stands silent, bathed in silence. He sees mouths moving, and assumes many words are being exchanged, but knows not what they are. He can only trust in what is best for them all. Noting Gordon’s short reply and gratious stance to the elder after her long spiel, he bows his head towards the elders, assuming some helpful arrangement has been made.
Desmond stares at his companions, trying to make out what they are saying. His eyes alternate between widening and squinting, as if either will help. He gives up, never being any good at reading lips. ”I’m sorry!” He continues to shout, much louder than what’s necessary or appropriate, ”I’ve lost my hearing! I can’t hear you!” He suddenly looks around at the elders, ”Does anyone have a spell for that?”
They say when you lose one sense, all your others senses become heightened in compensation. Surely, Desmond felt all eyes turn towards him as he enters into the gathered circle, acutely aware of just how the Garden folk part before him to allow his entrance. He could clearly see Gordon addressing the elders, and seemed to witness the nuances in Qualin's face turning from contemplative to enthusiastic as he points out Desmond's arrival. But all in silence. The clearest, purest silence Desmond could know. He quickly presses his palms together before his heart and bows deeply before everyone. A difference those who lack Janice's power of vision might notice is that he now wears his cross and rosary on the outside of his cassock, and he stands sure of himself. However, he is entirely unsure of what sort of conversation he is stepping into and interrupting, yet he speaks, also unsure of exactly how loudly. "I... apologize for being late. I mean no disrespect!" he shouts, "I... you see... I got lost, and now I am found!"
He held his breath for he dared not break the silence that had fallen on this spot. In contrast to the cacophony of the whirlwind, the utter stillness now was... deafening. However, Desmond had not fallen deaf. He could hear the beating of his own heart and was acutely aware of each pulse flowing through his body. Beyond that, Desmond could hear, within in every heartbeat, a heavenly chorus rejoicing in the glory of God. He could not doubt what had just happened; there was no room left in his heart for doubt. He was chosen. This was no happenstance or accident. He had a higher purpose to serve. In his long life and career, he had never felt it as purely as he did now. Beyond feeling, it was an unrefutable knowing. Standing upon that now holy ground, Desmond felt perfectly aligned. After a moment of silently giving thanks, Desmond realizes how much time has passed, and looking around, he sees the lights of the village in the distance. The meeting with the elders, it dawns on him, I'm late. He pulls the crucifix out from beneath his robes and kisses it, then makes his way calmly back to the gathering at the village.
Face down in the dirt, just about every quality of emotion sweeps over Desmond like the wild torrent of wind billowing around him. Fear, excitement, joy, anger, grief, each grips him and releases in sudden passes, to quick to really be distinguishable from each other. He can feel his heart pounding against the earth, the wooden cross and rosary pressed hard against his chest. He wants to laugh, or scream, but can’t move himself to challenge the sudden cacophony of the wind. ”Ye of little faith, why are you so afraid? Peace, be still.” Some inner voice reaches Desmond, and he puts a lifetime of practice into calming his mind, body, and spirit, to become a clear channel for the divine. Deepening his breath, slowing the beating of his heart, progressively relaxing his body into the humus of the Garden soil, Desmond inwardly chants, ”Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be Thy name. Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done, on earth as it is in Heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. Lead us not unto temptation, but deliver us from evil. For Thine is the Kingdom, the Power, and the Glory. Forever and ever. Amen.” He recites this inwardly, again and again, until it becomes automatic, requiring the bare minimum of mental effort. As the wind rages around him like the sudden storm came upon Jesus and his disciples on the lake, Desmond shows that he comes in Peace.
Still wrapped up in his own thoughts, Desmond, eyebrows raised, watches Cooil approach from the woods with his new otter friend. Nothing should come as shocking, anymore. All the good father can muster is a polite smile of congratulations for Cooil. Even though he’s been on a remarkable ride with these people over the past few days, he suddenly feels apart from the group. Already turned from them, he simply walks away, hands clasped in front of him, clearly conflicted with what he now knows he must do. Janice’s words strike deep; he knows he must listen to his innermost calling. He walks almost blindly through the tall grass of the village lawn, with no clear direction, a man lost. He walks a mindless path, eyes barely open, until he feels it, the light and heat of the celestial sphere upon his shoulders. At that moment, he drops to his knees. Of the things he is certain, Desmond knows that the God he serves is omnipotent, omnipresent, both within and without, the light that flows through all things. And here is the light of this world, the creator, that which gives life, truly a servant of God. And as God’s servant, it demands and deserves Desmond’s obeisance. ”Oh Light of this Sphere,” he begins his prayer, staring upwards toward the light, ”Oh great ruler of this world, the One the people of this world call The Angel, in the Name of God, I beseech thee hear my prayer. I have come with a pure heart to your world but I know not why. I have seen my friends find something of themselves here, which gives me hope that our arrival is no mere accident. I have felt myself drawn to You, yet I have doubted your presence and resisted your call. Now I call out to you. As a servant of God, I give unto you my service. Through you is the path and the glory of God. Show me the way home.”
"Hmm. Points taken, Doctors." Desmond turns slightly away from the group now, standing with arms crossed over his chest, his head low, brow furrowed. It's clear he's mulling something over. Why am I so quick to doubt one miraculous claim just when I'm now willing to accept another? Am I like Thomas doubting the Resurrection? Even amongst rationally minded scientists, I am the first to cast doubt onto the magic of this place. Perhaps I am resisting it. Perhaps that is why I have yet to experience the kind of awakening of power the others have.
Desmond listens again to Drs. Alexander and Zeroux's account of their latest foray into the Nexus. He points out, "I don't mean to undermine what you experienced in there, but it does sound like you're personifying what could just be a phenomenon of the 'physics' of the Nexus. As Gordon said, anchoring points and such. 'Attack' denotes that the Nexus has a consciousness and will of it's own. I guess either is believable and, well, an acceptable theory, at this point. I'm just saying, we need to watch the language we use. From what I know of the occult, magick is language, and vice versa. Language has the power to color our perceptions, and thus our reality. If I understand correctly, the spell of that talisman we are under gives us the ability to speak and understand the language of these people, and we have all witnessed the transformative magic of this place. If we speak of the Nexus as if it had consciousness, we may very well be giving it consciousness." He turns to Jasper and adds, "Qualin just informed us that the elders of the other villages have started to arrive. We are to wait until they are ready for us."
Desmond joins the village children in their game, and learns a few songs and prayers from them. He finds he is confused by the language spell they are under. What he hears from the villagers is English, and what he speaks is English, and he assumes what they hear from him is in their language. After the talk with Gordon, he wonders how much of their magic power is built into their language, and becomes a little bit frustrated that he won't be able to properly learn to speak their language while under the spell. "Please know that we have your people's best interest at heart as well," he responds to Qualin, "We'll be nearby when you're ready for us."
I gotta argue that we chose this place and were not brought here. We had choices. We almost chose another door. "Hmm. Right. And we could have gone through any door, really, we just happened to choose a direction to explore, and the urgency of our situation had us choosing the door which seemed the most promising. Should we mistake coincidence for fate?"
"I like that. We all do with what we are given. Any sort of power or ability is only a tool, a means and not an ends itself."
"I've tried to be sensitive to these people and their beliefs. Their beliefs though, happen to be rooted in more substantial evidence than what I can offer. Besides, I think I may have perturbed our poor guide Qualin with all my questioning yesterday. I don't mind spreading the good word, of course, but it should be handled with tact. We are as new and alien to them as they are to us. I certainly don't wish to disrupt and disturb this peaceful place. I can preach the gospel by living it, instead. However, the Angel they worship is indeed the mystery I find most intriguing."
Desmond laughs heartily, "Well I guess that all depends on what's being offered and who's doing the offering. I'm not sure if I'm cut out for smiting, either. Boy, it sure sounds biblical, doesn't it." He falls silent for a moment, pondering. "It seems Janice has developed some powers, but hers weren't offered to her. Cooil has been offered something too, and my bet is he will take it. Gordon seems to think he's stumbled onto some power with that book he found. I'm not sure where that leaves me, but all this talk about prophecy leaves me wondering if we were actually brought here for a purpose."
Jasper wakes with a start the next morning, bolting awake and looking around frantically before calming down and going over his dream. With the details set in his mind, he seeks out Father McKinley and Dr. MacCray, hoping to talk to them about what he's experienced. "All signs seem to be pointing us to the Citadel. I'm waiting to meet with the other elders, but I have the feeling that we'll have to journey to this Citadel to find the answers we're looking for, regardless. At least the old man in your dreams sounds less um... pressing. How do you feel about it? About what he's offering... the power to smite your enemies, is that right?"
"I've seen some truly remarkable things done in the name of faith. Faith is beyond belief, and has more to do with trust than all else. I agree with Janice that faith gives us the will to act, because we trust in the goodness or rightness of our actions. Of course, it was Crowley who said something to the effect of, it is not faith but certainty which makes magic work. What I'm saying is, I think I'm going to act here on out on the faith that an Angel watches over this planet we are on, and not just a hot ball of boiling gas. Yes, somehow that lifts a great burden from my heart."
"Interesting to say the least. I have to admit I'm out of my element when it comes to explaining such astrologucal phenomenon." Desmond begins to chuckle at himself, "I don't kniw why I'm still reaching for rational explanations for what's going in here. I mean, Cooil, you had a conversation with a fox! That the orb which lights this world is an angelic being is equally as plausible now as any scientific explanation we can come up with. I think from here on out, I'm going to start taking things on faith."
"It's interesting that you say that... language. This book, it looks more like mathematical equations, chemical formulae... which you can say is a language of it's own. But also... here, and here... these are the type of arrangements you'd see in an medieval alchemists handbook. The language of the cosmos, you might say."
"That's what I'm seeing here too. I can't recall seeing any such tools around the village, so your guess is as good as mine. Perhaps you should show the book to Qualin."
Otherwise, Desmond joins Cooil in his experiment photographing the 'Angel' in its transition from day to night, offering either help or just company, being very interested in the results. Realizing the song at dinner is a prayer, Desmond joins in as best as he can.
As they nake their way back to the village, Desmond likewise relates the things he was witness to back in the nexus. He talks about the Forsaken and how they live on the side of the globe which faces away from the sun, and how he theorizes the planet they are on is in some sort if tidal lock with its sun, and that perhaps the other doors in the Nexus lead to other locations on this planet. "I've been told repeatedly that the Citadel holds the answers I seek. I'm hoping that this gathering of elders provides some answers too."
"Hmm... it sounds like something or someone is speaking to you. Like Cooil... With all that we've seen, the power to conceal an entire village, the power to communicate through touching a talisman... I guess it is possible here to communicate uh, mentally, over long distances, or through dreams. These sort of powers aren't unheard of, telepathy, remote viewing, astral projection... many claims... it's hard to empirically prove what is essentially a subjective experience. I've met many people who claim to be able to hear the voice of God... or the devil...I can't deny them their experience... I can't deny that they hear... something." Again he falls into silence, then adds, "If someone is trying to speak to you... It means that someone knows we're here. I guess it's good that you're feeling optimistic about it all."
As they follow the solo pair of tracks, Desmond contemplates for a while, then breaks the silence, "How have you been Jasper? I mean, since, well, yesterday. Do you feel affected by this place? Dr. Zeroux has made some radical claims, hasn't she? What with being able to see auras or energy or whatnot. And now Cooil... I'm not sure I can make such claims, only that I seem to feel... better. I can't explain, I feel better physically, and also spiritually. I guess I still have my doubts though..." He seems to trail off back into thought and returns to tracking Cooil.
Desmond shrugs and tries to hide a little smirk, "Cooil is a strange one, isn't he? I admit I find it difficult to relate to him. He seems to be right at home with all this strangeness... I guess I too keep finding myself caught up in the mystery of this place..." Briefly, the Father glances up at the resolute sun through the canopy of trees before shaking his head and continuing on. When they arrive to the spot Jasper thinks he left Cooil, and Jasper suggests Desmond lead the way, he shrugs and begins the search, uttering a small prayer, "Lord help us not lose our friend to this place."
He spots a couple of footprints and points assuredly in the right direction, "This way Jasper."
Desmond's eyes surely widen at Jasper's outburst. He follows the clod of dirt sail through the air with a turn of his head as he leans into a half-step back. "Ok, ok," he says, his hands raised and palms showing, "Well you found me, and we can go look for Dr Cooil, but let's take our time and be clear minded about it, can we? The man claims to have a good sense of direction, so he just may find us first." He chuckles lightly and lowers his hands. Desmond looks into Jasper's eyes to see if he has calmed down, and begins slowly walking, hands now clasped loosely behind him, in the direction Jasper had come from.
Every question seems to point Desmond toward the Citadel. It seems the only thing left for him to do is be patient. Have faith. It occurs to him that by becoming caught up in the great mystery of this place, he has again lost sight of his promise to the others, to get everyone back home safely. It also occurs to him that he has lost sight of his companions. Gordon and Janice must still be in the 'Nexus', but where are Jasper and Cooil? Closing his notebook, Desmond walks around the village looking for any sign of his colleagues.
If he sees no sign, he will begin asking around.
Desmond parts ways with Qualin with gratitude, although inwardly he's feeling a little disappointed. The majority of his questions so far have been met with "Ask the citadel." "Time to practice patience, I guess. I wonder if it will be difficult to convince the others to travel to the Citadel." Desmond is a little disappointed with himself, as well. He was sensitive to the problem of introducing belief systems to a new culture, and he had tried to be careful about talking about his faith without being preachy, but Qualin seemed agitated, perhaps dealing with the same cognitive dissonance he himself was experiencing trying to fit this new and radical experience in with his worldview. Desmond's mind is stuck on this Angel. Is it actually some sort of celestial being, or as mundane as the sun back home? So far the evidence is mounting, at least in his mind, that perhaps this planet is in tidal lock with its parent star, so that one side and only one side ever faces the star, much like how only one side of the moon faces the Earth. But Desmond is no astrophysicist, and the problem of how the Angel dims and brightens regularly still remains a mystery. "Maybe my colleagues will know something about it." It also seems to him that at some point of time, there may have been a cultural exchange between this world and his, the shape of the translator device being too much of a coincidence for him to ignore. After strolling aimlessly around the village, lost in thought, and just feeling lost in general, Desmond finds his notebook and a quiet spot. He reviews his notes from the day before, and adds more about the 'Forsaken' and their banishment to the dark side of the world, before sitting in reflection of all that he knows in order to try to piece together some of the pieces of this grand puzzle.
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