The Heart of Zealous

As Touran sat on a bluff overlooking the immense seashore being thrashed by waves, he, like most people in the realm of Areth took on the decade old adage-blame it on the moon.

A light voice came from behind him. “Brother, it is time for supper.”

Touran turned. “It just irks me, Ember. The moon keeps getting closer and the tides increase. Is this how God treats His servants?”

“Don’t think such things. It is disrespectful.”

Touran sneered. “We are doomed Ember! The priests say the moon will eventually crash into the planet!”

“God will deliver us. You must have faith.”

Touran stood. “Say what you will,” he said. “I’ll be home soon. You go on ahead.” After ten minutes the young man made his way down the seaside cliff and back to his town in the city of Wrethmire.

A little over a dozen people stood outside their homes, staring at the moon.

On his way home, Touran passed a priest. “Priest Thaylus, what is God’s purpose in the eventual destruction of the world from the collision of the moon?”

Thaylus looked down at Touran, touching his shoulders. “You must have faith like your sister. Do not blame it on God, blame it on the moon if you want.”

“That is the saying.” Touran sighed and left.

When Touran walked into his small stone house, his parents and sister had already begun eating.

“You missed the prayer,” said his father, Erin.

“I lost track of time.” Touran sat at the table before a bowl of stew.

“You spend a lot of time on the cliffs. Since you like it so much, we should all have a picnic there,” said Touran’s mother, Eunice.

“I prefer to be there myself. It gives me peace.”

“It can’t give you too much peace. Since the moon began nearing the planet, you only complain about how big the tides are,” said Ember.

“She’s right. You need to look to God, in the face of this,” said Erin.

“I don’t expect any of you to see how I see,” said Touran. He stood. “I am tired. I am going to bed.”

“But you have not touched your supper,” said Eunice.

“I do not have an appetite.”

Touran went to his room and crawled into bed and fell asleep. He found himself in a bright place standing before a man in shining robes. “Hello, Touran.”

“Who…who are you? Where am I?”

“I am the angel, Trophimus. You are having a vision.”

“Why am I here?”

“You have been selected to save the planet.”

“M…me? But I am the last person to even believe the world can be saved.”

“Your doubt is your weakness, but, as the Word says – ‘God’s strength is made perfect in weakness.’”

“I do not understand.”

“When you awake from this vision, a map will be on your nightstand. The map will take you to a powerful, holy relic called the Heart of Zealous. It appears as a scepter with a green, shining orb. Take it and plant it in the rock cliff where you frequently resort to. And then, you would have done so, your quest is over and the world will be saved. Farewell.”

Touran awoke and it was starting to dawn. He turned and saw the map and he had chill pass through his body-he really did see an angel!

After adjusting to the shock, he dressed and crept out the door into the cool breezy day. The map indicated he would be leaving the village and the whole city. He ran for the village gate and entered the wilderness.

The first place he went to was a landmark marked by a pillar. It was over twelve feet tall with odd markings on it. Touran circled the stone and saw a sword stuck in the ground. The blade had a golden, sparkling shine.

Touran felt for some reason he would need it. He grasped the hilt but the sword was driven hard into the ground. In his mind he heard the words of his sister-You must have faith.Touran was baffled. Why was he thinking this? Nevertheless, the notion had a strange tug on his heart. He would try to use whatever faith he had if he had any.

He closed his eyes for a several moments. “Faith!” he yelled as the sword slipped out.

His heart throbbed with joy and something shifted inside him. It was an odd inner strength.

The next place he was to go was something called the Dragon’s Lair. Touran cringed but took heart and went on. For the next hour he strove onward until he came to a large cave mouth lined with stalactites and stalagmites, that looked like a gaping dragon’s mouth.

Touran entered and as he went deeper, large braziers were burning.

Then from above, an immense reptilian monster with spikes along its back dropped in front of the young human. Yet he was unafraid. Within him was that strength and something more-faith. Yes, it was faith!

The dragon struck with an open mouth at Touran. He sliced the beast’s snout. It reeled back. It roared and its chest began to expand and Touran knew what would follow then hid behind a small crevice in the right wall. Flames brushed by him.

The dragon lost sight of Touran, for the beast stood still doing nothing. The beast snorted the air and when the side of its face came into view, Touran thrust his blade into its skull and the dragon fell to its side and it stilled.

Touran saw a bright shining, green orb on top of the iron scepter behind the dragon. He snatched it up and dashed outside back the way he came.

He climbed up the cliff and in the gleam of the orange-yellow sun and thrust the scepter into the ground and beam of light shot into the clouds.

Deep inside him, Touran felt an inner voice saying-“No more will someone need to say blame it on the moon.”