Flame of the Mahraqan

Jarrod’s knee hurt. It always hurt, ever since he broke it as a kid—never really healed. He winced, leaning over to rub the sore area. How many miles was it until the next town?

He looked around. This was the edge of the Mahraqan, a desert wasteland dotted with the occasional Umbada tree and gnarled bush. Jarrod licked his lips. Hopefully there was a well in town.

He had been wandering for the past few days, looking for something. What, he wasn’t sure. Something. Some purpose. Some meaning. Some reason to go on living, beyond the need to just keep food in his belly.

Jarrod had never really wanted a wife, or a home of his own. That didn’t suit him. So he took to the open road at a young age. But even that had grown wearisome after a while. And now, he found himself wanting something…more…out of life.

As the sun beat down from overhead, the town slowly came into view. Nafutha. The forgotten place. There were just a few buildings clustered together, not much to look at really. But Jarrod’s eyes lit up when he saw what the buildings were huddled around. A well.

Jarrod headed straight for the well, lowered the bucket into the darkness below until he heard a splash, then pulled the bucket back up. The water was yellow and smelled rotten, but Jarrod didn’t care. He was so thirsty. So he drank down the sickly liquid, forcing it down his throat. He gagged, but kept the water down. His ears started ringing, and he felt as though he could almost hear singing in the air.

Jarrod opened his eyes. He could hear singing. Where was that coming from? He looked around. There, at the far end of town was a group of people, all wearing white robes caked with dirt and mud from the road. And they were singing, all of them in harmony. It was absolutely beautiful.

Walking to the light

With our sin and shame

Through the dust and night

Returning to the Flame

Jarrod stood transfixed as they approached. They were young and old, light and dark, from all across Alduna. The group stopped in front of him, and an older woman with short white hair held out her hand.

“May I, friend?” she asked, and Jarrod realized she was asking for the bucket.

“Uh, yeah! Of course!” he replied, handing her the pail.

The woman bowed slightly as she accepted the container, then dipped it in the water below and pulled up the stinky, yellow water. She looked at the liquid, then closed her eyes and held a hand over the bucket, humming.

All the people around her began to hum along in harmony, and Jarrod was stunned to see the yellow liquid turn clear.

The woman took a sip, then offered the bucket to the others. One by one the strangers drank from the bucket, passing it amongst themselves, until it returned, and the woman looked at Jarrod, offering the bucket back to him.

“Do you wish to drink, friend?”

Jarrod looked down at the clear liquid. It smelled like a mountain spring. What was going on here? How did she make the water clean?

“It’s just water,” she said. “Clear, clean water from the Gods.”

Jarrod nodded, then took the bucket and drank. The moment the water touched his throat, something awakened within him. It was intoxicating, energizing, and heavenly.

His heart raced, and he looked at the woman, “Who are you?”

The woman smiled. “My name is Hadeshi, and these are my kindred. We are on the Miraj.”

“The Miraj?” Jarrod asked.

“A pilgrimage. We seek the pillar of light in the Mahraqan.”

“The what?”

Hadeshi chuckled. “Each of us is tarnished, twisted, or broken in some way. We seek the light, to cleanse us of our sins.”

“What light?”

Hadeshi nodded. “Have you heard of the Astral Flame?”

Jarrod shook his head, and she continued, “Every year, the Gods beneath our feet travel to the heavens for a banquet with their brethren. In their passing, they bless us with a radiant light that travels from the earth to the sky. This is the Astral Flame, the light which cleanses those who believe, and burns all sins away.”

Jarrod stared off into the wasteland beyond the buildings. He had never heard of this Astral Flame, but it didn’t sound too pleasant — for the sinners, that is.

Hadeshi leaned in. “I wonder…would you care to join us?”

Jarrod looked at Hadeshi, and she smiled. It was a warm, inviting smile, with no trace of malice or deception.

“Cleanse yourself in the light, my friend.”

Jarrod wasn’t sure. Who was this woman? Could he trust her? That water she gave him was so pure, but would it turn to poison in his stomach?

Hadeshi looked toward the sun overhead. “You need not walk into the light, if you are not ready. But why not join us on the road? We could use the company, and perhaps we could entertain you for a time?”

Jarrod nodded. Their music was beautiful, and that clean water hadn’t killed him yet. “Okay, sure. I’ll tag along.”

And so, Jarrod followed Hadeshi and the pilgrims out of town, into the Mahraqan wasteland.

As they walked, Hadeshi gestured to a young woman beside them.

“This is Kelara. She is also new to the path.”

Jarrod looked at the young woman. She had freckles on her face, a scar running along her jaw, and a cuff bracelet around her wrist, which she fidgeted with slightly.

“And this is her brother Taelon. He is a true believer.”

Hadeshi gestured toward a man with piercing grey eyes, a strong jaw, and his head shaven down to the skin. Taelon nodded.

“Welcome, brother. What is your name?”

“Oh, ah. I’m Jarrod. Jarrod Faulgen, from — ”

“We don’t need to know where you’re from, brother Jarrod. All that matters is you are here, with us.”

Jarrod nodded. Strange group, but pleasant company.

Hadeshi began to sing again, and all the other pilgrims joined along with her. They sang the same verse over and over again, and it didn’t take long for Jarrod to recognize the words.

Kelara smiled. “Come. Sing with us!” she said. Jarrod nodded, and mouthed the words, humming softly as he walked.

Walking to the light

With our sin and shame

Through the dust and night

Returning to the Flame

As he sang, Jarrod felt his spirits lift. Hadeshi passed around a waterskin, and Jarrod took a swig. Again, the water replenished something within him. He felt renewed and alive in a way he couldn’t quite describe.

Was there really something to this pilgrimage? Could he truly be cleansed of his impurities?

Kelara smiled as Jarrod passed her the waterskin. He looked at the freckles on her face, and the scar on her right cheek. Would those be washed away in the Astral Flame?

As the sun set, they approached a great pillar of glass standing alone in the wilderness. It was unlike anything Jarrod had ever seen before. The pilgrims all touched the glass, and Hadeshi looked at Jarrod.

“A monument to the light. The Miraj.”

Jarrod looked at the glass. “Was this…”

Hadeshi nodded. “Made by the Astral Flame? Yes. This is what is left behind. All sins…turned to glass.”

Jarod stared in awe at the glass, reaching out to touch it. It was so hard and smooth. The glass blowers in Valnour would need an ocean of sand and the fires of the sun to craft such a pillar of glass. Was there indeed an earthly event that could form such a monument?

“We will rest here for the night,” Hadeshi said.

The pilgrims made camp under the shade of the great glass pillar, and Jarrod was given a white robe to wear. It looked comfortable enough, so he put it on, then sat on a stone apart from the others, stretching his leg and massaging his knee.

“Your leg. It is bothering you?” Taelon asked.

Jarrod shrugged. “Just an old injury. I’ve lived with it my whole life. I just need some rest.”

“Hmm. Here,” Taelon said, crouching over Jarrod.

He raised his hand. “No. Really, I’ll be fine — ”

Taelon clapped his hands together, then hummed into them. Those around him hummed in harmony, and Jarrod was amazed to see Taelon’s hands start to glow. Then he opened his palms and placed them on Jarrod’s knee.

Jarrod gasped. Taelon’s hands were ice cold. He felt a searing pain in his knee and tried to pull away, but Taelon held him firm, starting to howl into the night sky. The other pilgrims howled in unison, and suddenly Taelon shrieked, pulling back his hands.

Jarrod winced and tightened up. He looked down at his knee, and felt it becoming warm again. Warm…and nimble. He moved his knee. There was no pain. Nothing. He touched it. His skin felt fine.

Jarrod looked up at Taelon in amazement.

“How? How did you do that?” he asked.

“The light flows through us all…if we but have the eyes to see, and the heart to feel.”

Taelon walked away, leaving Jarrod in total amazement. He stood up, stretching his leg. It felt more limber and fresh than it had felt in twenty years.

“The light is amazing,” Kelara said, watching Jarrod. “It purifies us all.”

Jarrod nodded, then chuckled. He felt light-headed and joyful. Kelara smiled, laughing along with him. Jarrod sat down beside her.

“So tell me. This Astral Flame. What is it like?”

Kelara nodded, staring off into the darkness.

“Every year, the Gods beneath the earth journey to the heavens, traveling through pillars of light.”

“Pillars of light? Like lightning?”

“Not quite. These pillars emerge from the ground and go up to the sky. Their light purifies everything it touches, and turns the rest into glass.”

“Huh,” Jarrod replied, looking up at the glass pillar.

“All imperfections and blemishes are stripped away, made clean by the Gods.”

Jarrod nodded, looking at Kelara’s freckles, and the scar on her cheek.

“Everything?”

“Everything. From the lines on your face, to the…mistakes you made in the past.” Kelara stared off into the darkness.

“I’ve made a lot of mistakes,” Jarrod said. “There might not be that much of me left…once the dirt is all washed away.”

Kelara chuckled, then looked down.

“I never wanted a family,” Jarrod said. “I was happy to be on the road. A new adventure every day. But you know…that gets lonely after a while too.”

Kelara nodded, “Better not to have a family, than have one…taken from you.”

“Taken from you?”

Kelara shook her head, fidgeting with her bracelet.

“You have a husband?” Jarrod asked, and Kelara shook her head.

“A child. A girl.”

Jarrod looked at Kelara in silence.

“What was her name?”

Kelara sniffed, then tucked her bracelet under her sleeve and looked up at Jarrod. “It doesn’t matter. It’s over now. Just…more baggage I need to let go of.”

Jarrod nodded. He had never loved anyone deeply enough to carry them in his heart, and looking at the column of glass, he wondered if that would it make it easier or more difficult for him to enter the pillar of light.

That night, there was a storm. A storm unlike any Jarrod had experienced before. There were no clouds in the sky, yet it thundered. But the thunder didn’t come from the sky, it came from the ground itself.

The pilgrims gathered together, and Hadeshi raised her hands.

“Stay calm! Stay calm, everyone! This is just the first glimmer! There is nothing to fear!”

“But what if we miss it?” one of the pilgrims asked.

“It’s happening over there — ” another said, pointing.

“We are not going to miss anything!” Hadeshi said. “As the convergence approaches, there will be several more sparks like this one! We are not here for them! We are here for the true flame!” she said.

Kelara looked around. “Taelon. Where is Taelon?” she said.

Everyone looked around. Taelon was nowhere to be seen.

Kelara stepped out towards the darkness, “Taelon! Taelon, where are you!?”

“Kelara! Stand back!” Hadeshi said. “Taelon will be fine, just leave him!”

Kelara looked at Hadeshi. “Did you see him go? Where is h — ”

Suddenly there was a loud crack, and Jarrod gasped as a white pillar of light erupted from the ground a few hundred feet away, shooting up to the sky. The entire valley was illuminated for a moment, and Jarrod stared at the spire of light in shock and horror as a great booming sound echoed throughout the valley. The pillar of light shrunk in on itself, disappearing with a rush of air and leaving the valley in silent darkness once more.

“The first glimmer,” Hadeshi said softly. “It has begun.”

Kelara stared into the darkness, looking at a pillar of molten glass that stood where the pillar of light had just been. There, standing before the pillar, was a strange figure of pure light.

“Who…who is that?” Jarrod asked as the figure walked towards them. It was clad in white robes, untouched by the desert sand, and its skin glowed as though there was starlight flowing through its veins. Kelara frowned, then her eyes widened.

“T-Taelon? Taelon, is that you?” Kelara said as the figure approached. It looked nothing like Taelon, and yet…Jarrod felt something familiar in the way it walked towards them.

Kelara approached the figure. “Taelon…is it you?”

The figure nodded, then spoke without opening its mouth, a voice simply emerging in the air.

“I have done it, Kelara. I have been purified…by the light.”

Taelon embraced Kelara, and she began to weep as he wrapped her in the light of his arms, then led her back to the others. Jarrod stood in the darkness, unsure. What had just happened to Taelon? He was beautiful and bright, yes. But his uniqueness…it was gone. All that was left was…a strange feeling. A feeling that Jarrod found concerning.

The next day, Taelon led the group forward, beaming brightly.

Kelara walked beside Jarrod. “Isn’t he amazing? Without flaw, and perfect in every way. He told me he can hear the harmony of the universe.”

Jarrod nodded. “He is beautiful to behold. But I wonder…how much of him truly remains? Is he himself, or is he something…different?”

“Different? Of course he is different. He was flawed before, now he is perfected."

Jarrod looked at Kelara’s freckles, and the scar on her face.

“Our imperfections are what make us who we are. If we lose them, do we not lose ourselves?”

Kelara nodded, then looked at Jarrod’s leg.

“Are you happier with the limp, or without it?”

Jarrod shook his head. “Without it, I suppose.”

“Our imperfections drag us down. They make life painful and difficult. When we cast them off, we are free. Free to be our true selves.”

“But what about…what about uniqueness? And individuality?”

Kelara shook her head, “I prefer harmony. Blending in with the chorus.”

“Is there nothing that makes you you? Nothing you would want to hold on to?”

Kelara stared straight ahead, then glanced down, fingering her cuff bracelet.

“No,” Kelara said finally, looking up with tears in her eyes. “It’s better to just let go.”

Jarrod nodded, pondering her words. If he had experienced loss like she had, would he want to remember or let it go? He wasn’t sure.

That night was filled with storms and glimmers, but the pilgrims stayed close to camp, following Taelon in song as the world flashed around them.

The next day, they approached the holy site known as the Narssa, a great circle of scorched earth nestled in the heart of a barren valley. Nothing lived, nothing moved in the circle. Jarrod looked at it. “Where..where is the pillar of glass?” he asked, and Hadeshi shook her head.

“There is no pillar. Here all impurities are burned away, until perfection is all that remains.”

Hadeshi led the pilgrims into the valley, but Jarrod was stuck. Frozen in fear.

Kelara came to him. “Brother. It is going to be okay. Come.” She took his hand, leading him into the valley.

Doubt and fear rushed into his mind. What was he doing? Did he really want to be a part of this? To stand in a pillar of light and burn away his imperfections? He was nothing but imperfections.

The pilgrims sat in a circle in the heart of the valley, their white robes glowing against the scorched earth beneath their feet. And as night fell, the earth began to rumble. Jarrod heard a crack in the distance, followed by another, and looked up as pillars of light shot up into the sky around the valley. Then all went silent, and darkness descended on the circle of pilgrims.

Hadeshi closed her eyes, started rocking back and forth, and began to hum. The pilgrims followed along, humming in harmony with their leader. Jarrod tried joining in, but fear and doubt clouded his mind. Was he about to die? Was this the end?

A flash shot up from the top of the valley to his right. The heat burned Jarrod’s skin, and he stared up at the blinding light as another flash erupted to his left. He looked around frantically.

“It is coming. Almost time to go! Hold hands!” Hadeshi cried, and the pilgrims all held hands.

Jarrod sat there, holding Kelara’s hand on one side and Taelon’s on the other.

He thought back on all his flaws, all his mistakes, and all the beautiful experiences that came along with them. The mishaps which led to beautiful memories, the feuds which led to friendships, and the losses that brought him to love.

He looked at Kelara. She was beautiful, not despite her freckles and scars, but because of them. Then he looked at Taelon. Lifeless. Strange. Holy.

He looked around the group. They were so happy, so at peace. So ready to embrace the unknown. He truly did want to be a part of this group, and become one with the universe around him…

…But he also wanted to be himself. Come to think of it, he kind of liked his flaws. He liked the way he mixed up his words sometimes, or made people laugh by making a mistake.

The ground began to shake, and the rumbling grew louder. Jarrod couldn’t do it.

He broke his hands free and stood up. Kelara looked at him.

“What are you doing?”

“I can’t do this!” Jarrod shook his head. “I can’t!”
 “Yes you can! Trust me! Trust us! It will be fine!”

“No I can’t! And you shouldn’t either! Your flaws are what make you who you are! They are what make you special and unique! Who would we be without our flaws?”

Jarrod took a step back. “I can’t…I can’t — ”

Kelara stood up to face him. “Jarrod, this is the only way — ”

“No it isn’t! Life doesn’t need to be like this! You don’t need to become like everyone else! You don’t need to be perfect! You are perfect, Kelara! With all your flaws, all your mistakes — ”

“I don’t want to remember my mistakes!”

“Well I do! I want to be me! Flaws and all!”

“It is happening! It is coming!” Hadeshi cried, and Jarrod saw the pebbles on the ground begin to levitate.

He ran. He ran away from the blackness. Away from the burning. Away from it all.

Kelara reached toward him, crying out, but her voice was drowned out as a great explosion shot up from the sky. A chasm of white light erupted from the ground, throwing Jarrod wide.

He lay on his back, shielding his eyes from the burning light. Peering through his fingers, he saw rainbows and stars careening into the sky. It was beautiful, and Jarrod’s ears rang with all the harmony in the world. Then the light disappeared, and all fell silent. Nothing remained.

Jarrod sat up slowly, looking at the circle of earth where the pillar had emerged. There was nothing but scorched black earth. He stood up slowly, then heard a clink and a clatter. Something had landed on the ground. He walked towards it, then leaned over to pick it up. It was Kelara’s cuff bracelet. On it was printed one word. Raena.

Jarrod put the bracelet around his wrist. He had to bend it open a bit, but it fit. He looked around. They were all gone. He was alone. Alone again. Alone in the desert.

Yeah, that was smart, Jarrod, he thought to himself. Real smart.

He looked over his shoulder. He was thirsty. There was no water for days in every direction.

Well, at least I’m here with my flaws and all, he thought bitterly, then began to walk back the way he came. As he climbed out of the valley, he felt a familiar pain in his knee. Wincing, Jarrod leaned over and rubbed the sore area.

That figures, he thought, walking away.