The Sentry

The Sentry

Leanah trudged forward. The layers of her skirts were sodden with dampness and dirt from her long trek.

She emerged from the clearing into a narrow copse of trees, lifting her weary eyes to the massive stone gate in front of her.

Sitting on a block of stone, just to one side of the gate, was a man so ancient that he appeared to be a weathered carving of the same stone on which he sat. The creases etched into his face were many, and his beard was gray and tangled.

He raised one gnarled hand and rasped, “Stay.”

Leanah looked around with despair. The only place to go was back the way she had come, and the Madraks pursuing her were less than a half-day’s journey behind. As she stood with heaving breath, she absently ran a hand over her stomach and felt the circle of raised symbols etched there. The purple birthmark was always referred to strangely as a “birthright” by her mother.

“What is this place?” she asked.

“Beyond this gate is Tal-Eden. No evil is allowed in. I have stood sentry at this gate for thousands of years and burned the corpses of many unworthy and evil who have sought entry.

“The only one that is allowed egress is the Chosen Vessel. I think he must be a brave and mighty warrior-man. I will know him by the purple runes on his belly.”

At this, Leanah unconsciously lifted her tattered blouse.

The old man looked in amazement and said, ”What? A pitiful waif of a girl?” Then he crumbled to dust.

He gate opened and Leanah momentarily spied a beautiful land before the gate again slammed shut.

Resigned to her new vocation, she sat on the stone, head hung low, and waited for the Madraks to come.