Esdraelon

Artheena

2007-07-28T12:21:00.001-04:00

Queen and Huntress of the Aazos

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Character: Artheena
Race: Aazos
Kingdom: Sallaechia
Age: Age of Mists, the Second Age
Weapon: Bow
Ability: Animal tongue
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There was a queen, Artheena, who was married to a very cruel king who ruled Sallaechia, a northern kingdom east of Claw Bay. He would treat her like an animal and abuse her in ways that were unnatural and vicious. She was caged like a beast with only a brief moment everyday to walk in the garden, escorted by three guards. She looked forward to this time. The only people she saw was the king and the three guards everyday for many years. She had no friends. So, instead she made friends with the birds that would feed from her hand. The deer would come knowing that she would be there at the same time each day to give them a morsel, which she hid in her dress, from the meager afternoon meal that was shoved under the door of her cage.

As she was treated like a beast, so she became like a beast. From the animals she made her friends. She learned animal tongue and could whisper in the wind and the trees would carry her voice many miles away. Even though her mind was like a creature of nature, she was immensely beautiful. It was this that eventually saved her. She began to devise a plan to be free from her life of misery. Each day with subtilty she began to seduce one of the guards. He began to find reasons to send the other two guards away. He would have them fetch some particular item or to get him a drink.

This guard finally gave his heart fully to Artheena and she convinced him to kill her husband the king. She promised him that she would make him king and they would rule together. The day came and Artheena's plan bore fruit. Gallac, the guard, would come before the king each week to give a report concerning the welfare of the queen. Gallac bowed before the throne of the king and as he rose up from his knee he pulled out his sword from its sheath and with one motion thrust the blade deep into the king's chest, pinning the king to his own throne.

The queen who had been standing at the entrance waiting to be called into the king, rushes hysterically to the throne throwing herself on the blood soaked king. She weeps and cries out in uncontrollable mourning. As quickly as the grief came it stopped. She stood up and turned toward Gallac, pointing her slender finger at him, and yelled in hatred, "You murderer! You killed my beloved!"

Dolyte, one of the other guards who attended the queen on her walks, commanded that Gallac should be arrested and taken to the prisons. Artheena came up to Dolyte and kissed him, "Thank you darling. Only you have been there through my darkest hour and now I want you to ease my pain and become my king." At this Gallac realized the deception but was unable to respond before being dragged to the dungeons. Here his final fate would end at the gallows. Artheena's seduction to gain power was almost complete.

She married Dolyte and while he was distracted with his new position as king, Artheena secretly built an army of women and creatures of the forest. She would never trust a man again. She would never love a man again. She would build a nation of only woman. They would be warriors and hunters. The women of Salaechia were not equals and were treated no better than servants. Soon she had her army and at night they attacked the sleeping soldiers within the castle walls. She left no man alive including Dolyte her husband.

She took the throne but this time she was the sole ruler. She ordered that all men in the nation leave or be killed. She finally had her wish, a nation without men. They became known as the Aazos, which means "no breast". Artheena commanded that all the women in her realm remove the right breast so that they would not be hindered in the use of weapons like the javelin or bow. They devoted themselves to war and training. But Artheena soon realized that her people would need to have children in order to grow and they needed someone to do the domestic duties, which was thought of in contempt and disgust. Domestic duties were seen as a form of oppression men used to control women.

The Aazos attacked the neighboring kingdom that took the refugee men who had fled from Artheena. After capturing the main city the Aazos went from house to house taking all girls two years old and under and killing all the boys. They then left with the kidnapped girls to raise them as their own. The kingdom they had attacked rallied its troops and struck back. The Aazos crushed them. Their hatred for men drove their strength and determination. It was a dark and twisted courage.

Those men that survived were taken as slaves and given no rights or status. By this time the animals who had originally allied themselves with Artheena began to question their relationship with the Aazos. In the beginning they had sympathized with Artheena's plight and she had shown a remarkable comprehension of animal ways and language, so they joined the Aazos against the wicked men of Salaechia who treated the women as half citizens. But the animals are a part of Nature. They are tied to Nature's ways. The Aazos had become an unnatural people. They could not reproduce so they had to attack other nations and take their children to sustain themselves. They mutilated their bodies by cutting off their right breasts in order to be better warriors. They hated men. To the animals all living things that were created naturally, including the human races, have a purposeful design within Nature. Whenever a creature deviates from that design the balance of Nature shifts and death and destruction are inevitable. All animals know this from birth but the human races have always played god and try to change the way of Nature for their own selfish gains. And this was no different.

Most of the animals abandoned Artheena's cause except for a few creatures who chose to deviate from the Order of Creation. Artheena was furious. She went on a hunting rampage, killing animals and burning down forests. Sallaechia became a barren land. To satiate her hate and support her armies she continued to invade neighboring kingdoms. Her hate toward men took another step forward. She no longer just killed men and then took baby girls to be raised by the Aazos but she killed the married women as well. How could a woman choose to marry a man? Artheena considered them betrayers.

On one particular campaign, which would become their last, they began an invasion on a small kingdom to the south called Mazosskinee. The men of that kingdom were good and noble. Knowing that the Aazos army was powerful they sent out nearly all their men to meet them. Artheena was clever and set an ambush. Many Mazos died but many more were taken prisoner to be forced into slavery. The women of Mazosskinee heard the terrible news of defeat. One woman, who was a clan leader's wife, came before the women of her kingdom and declared that they needed to bring back their men and fight the Aazos. They agreed. The women of Mazosskinee are no feeble creatures. They raise cattle and in a land where wild beasts and difficult terrain are normal the Mazos are a hard and determined people. Despite their difficult life the women are loyal to their families.

Within five days the Mazos had pulled together an almost all woman army to challenge the Aazos in battle. The Aazos did not expect any more resistance from Mazosskinee so they were resting from their first battle to prepare for final invasion. Without warning the Mazos caught the Aazos off guard. Artheena quickly drew up a defensive perimeter but the Aazos were not good at defensive techniques. They are usually the aggressors and most of their army is built for offense not defense against an attacking army. They were crushed.

The men of Mazosskinee were rescued. Artheena was taken prisoner and at dawn the next day after being declared a criminal of the clans. She was run through with a lance. The Mazos then invaded Sallaechia and took all the young girls who were now orphans and raised them as their own teaching them the Order of Creation and the balance of man and woman. Each being the opposite ends of a scale and both having equal value to the other for they are not the same but both are intertwined in their need for each other. This is what the Mazosskinee call the Wisdom of Nature.

The Lake

2007-03-12T17:39:00.000-04:00

"Help! Come quick!"

A man burst into my house. He was hysterical.

"What is it? What happened?" I replied.

Breathlessly the man explained, "There's a boy in the lake! He is drowning!"

We both rushed out of the house. The lake was only a short way off. I knew the lake well. It was a place my parents and I visited often when I was a child. I had spent many summers swimming there. I had not been there since the incident. I was 11 years old then.

When we got there I could see someone laying under the water on the bottom just a little pass the shore. I jumped in quickly pulling the boy from the lake. He was limp in my arms. There was no life in him. I ran to the house. When I got there my father came out to meet me. He looked furious.

"Put the boy back in the lake!", he demanded.

"Why!" I was confused.

Suddenly the boy in my arms began to twitch. My father became more adamant, "Put him back in the lake before he comes back to life!"

"But, why! He needs our help!" The boy started to groan and jerk. Suddenly I realized what my father was trying to tell me. I was horrified. I didn't recognize the boy at first. This was me! This was me when I was 11 years old. This was me before the incident at the lake. I must hurry. There is no time to spare. If he fully awakes and opens his eyes there will be no turning back. I must take the boy back to the lake and make sure he is dead.

Conclusion: This is an adaption from a dream I had almost 20 years ago. When we are baptized in Christ, the old man is dead, we should never go back to our old self to revive it. We are now new creations restored to God, made for His purposes. Do not dabble with the things you have left behind otherwise you might awaken the old man and the rebellion of that nature will be reborn greater than it was previously.

The Crow and the Farmer

2007-03-06T12:22:00.001-05:00

The crow tapped his beak on the farmer's head but the farmer didn't notice. All day long the farmer went about working his fields, feeding his cows, visiting the outhouse but the crow continued a rat-a-tat-tat. Soon a bald spot appeared in the thick gray hair; still no notice of the crow with its shiny black feathers. A sore developed. As you might imagine and find somewhat disgusting, eventually the flesh in that spot was completely pecked away. The crow was tapping against the farmer's hard bony skull. Well, the day had ended and the farmer went inside, ate some dinner and went straight to bed as was his custom. What happened next is a little disturbing and if you are given to a weak stomach you might find your self wishing you had stopped right here.

By morning the crow, standing on the farmer's forehead, had eventually and slowly chipped away at the farmer's skull and ate out his brains. How the farmer never felt the crow tapping on his head is beyond my understanding. If the farmer had come into town or visited your home, it would have been plain to you. You would have seen the crow right there and would have asked him why he had a crow on his head. Why did he not know of the rat-a-tat-tat against his skull? If you had a crow sitting on your head pecking away, you would have noticed, right?

Conclusion: Without the Shepard's voice speaking to us we are not able to see plainly the corruption in our lives. When we compare ourselves to our own standards we will not see our disobedience because it is blurred out in the lack of contrast. When we see our sin in comparison to a holy God we see very clearly how far we have strayed and how destructive our sin is.

Crack in the Wall

2007-03-01T11:55:00.000-05:00

One day I went down into my basement, which I rarely do. I cannot remember why I was going down there, which has no bearing on what happened next, because I never made it to the bottom of the stairs. I started down into that dark hole and noticed a faint glow. At first I did not see it until it caught my peripheral vision. It was on the stone wall next to me. With further inspection I saw that it came from a crack in the wall, between two stones. I bent down and peered in. It was the oddest thing. I straightened up and looked around me, not sure what I just saw. I leaned over and looked in again. It was a town! A town of buildings, roads and people. In fact there was a dog barking down in an alley at a stray cat that just scurried off. There were carriages going up and down the main boulevard. People were navigating through the busy streets, going about their daily routines.

A whole little world lives within a crack in my wall! I stood there for nearly two hours watching before realizing how stiff I was from the awkward way I was standing on the stairs. I decided to go eat some dinner. I came back later. The town was dark and only a few lights in the windows remained. It was night. It seemed after some observation that time moved along the same pace in the town as it does in our world. The next day I built a makeshift seat that connected to the stairs so that I would not have to hunch over to look in the crack. I also found a large magnifying glass. I could finally see the faces of the people, for they were only slightly larger than ants. I started tracking certain individuals. There was this one gentleman with a brown leather hat that I watched for sometime. Every now and then he seemed to be looking up at me. After some time he would stop a passerby on the street and anxiously point in my direction. The other fellow would usually look up and seem confused, then would shake his head and continue on his way.

Day after day this man would come out into the streets and earnestly attempt to convince others of my presence. Soon the town folk became familiar with his pleading and would not stop anymore to look. They would avoid eye contact and walk on the other side of the street, not stopping to listen to him. There were a couple of times someone would spit at him and yell at him, which I could not understand because the people were so small. The man with the brown hat began to look haggard. No one believed him. Obviously he could see me but the others could not. Eventually the town folk had enough of this lunatic. One day, what looked like some kind of officers came and took him away. I did not see him again. I felt horrible. This man was right. I do exist. No one believed him.

Conclusion: The World is blinded by their very centrist focus on themselves and their plans. They don't realize how small they are and how great God is. In their selfishness and refusal to humble their hearts they will persecute those who try to lead them to the Truth.

Somewhere

2007-01-26T17:51:00.000-05:00

The streets are wet and cold as the night crawls down sightless alleys of this overly trodden city. Black steel buildings stretch up on either side, swallowed by the low inky sky. These streets are so eternal in their heaviness, covering the ground with their thick material. Nobody walks here anymore. Slowly it died and it has been dead now for many years. Its stillness and permanence seems to pull on my soul, sucking it into its lifeless form with each step along this forgotten place. Only the padding of my shoes and the movement of the thick stale air through my lungs gives any indication that life still hangs on in this metal and stone sanctuary.

What lies down each alley is left only to the imagination as I pass by their gaping mouths, trying to peer into a darkness you could touch. You wouldn't want to put your hand into those empty voids. Foul things lurk there, ancient abominations and unmentionable horrors. They were what was left behind. At one time this city was full of life. Cars, buses, taxis and people going in and out of shops, crowding each other in a hurry to be somewhere. Somewhere...they were all trying to go somewhere. After awhile they could not remember where they were trying to go.

Slowly one after the other they all wandered out of the city. They walked into the Wilderness. The Wilderness was all that was left besides the great city. I never go to the Wilderness. I have never been to the Wilderness, but I have heard it is a mass grave of millions. This city is empty and dead now but it is less dead than the Wilderness. So I remain here, walking the streets, wandering in and out of empty shops looking for something, trying to go somewhere but there is nowhere to go.

Conclusion: As we go about busily pursuing our own course, doing this and that, in the end we realize or not that we were going nowhere. In fact we begin to lose our purpose and vision as we pursue the horizontal world before us. Without Christ we will wander an aimless life without eternal purpose and in the end it leads to death.

The Villager

2007-01-25T23:43:00.000-05:00

The villager ran through the square yelling at the top of his lungs. He lunged passed a large stone well in the center of the square.

At one time all kinds of livestock, people and carriages came through this downtown market. They would stop here at the well to drink. Vendors put on dramatic flair to attract customers to their tables. Chickens scurried passed avoiding being trampled by the crowds, but no one's been here for months.

In fact the village was silent. Other than the occasional stray villager running through screaming about the end of the world or something, there was no one here. Today, however, something was more unusual about this villager than all the previous ones that came running hysterically down the street. This villager had no face. The front of his head looked like the back of his head but without hair. How could he be yelling? It would seem impossible having no face, but yet he was shrieking about the plight of the world, something about an erupting volcano and a monster with one eye eating people, or something like that.

Oh well, back to work. "Fresh Humus for sale! Anyone? Fresh Humus! How about you sir, without the face?

Conclusion: Matthew 24:38 (NIV) "38 For in the days before the flood, people were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, up to the day Noah entered the ark." Though the signs are all around us, the world and even sometimes ourselves are blind to the obvious signs of the end days and the need to have our hearts anchored in Christ our Savior.

The Beast of Light

2005-08-10T12:22:00.001-04:00

by Brett Stebbins

There is a creature that I call the Beast of Light. He is far from good, as his appearance seems to those he deceives. Those who serve him have been given Great Promises of his care and generosity, but it is a deception. For a period of time they give themselves to this Beast but his wicked intentions become revealed after he has drained the very essence of their lives from them. Then it is too late.

He is my enemy, but he does not know I can see who he really is. I am one of his servants. I am playing a deception as well. I appear to him as loyal, faithful, an asset of value. He thinks he has me in a Fog of Unknowing but this is not so.

He has planned for me to be conveniently gone from the region of his Kingdom a few days from now. I have given much time and sweat to fulfill his labor requests to produce a Veil of Wealth that entices the lords of other kingdoms to give their treasures to him. He is pleased with my efforts and the results.

Outside of his normal nature he has encouraged me to visit the Temple with my family and find some time of peace and rejuvenation. I suggested that maybe only a few hours would be enough but he insisted I take a full day with my family at the end of the work cycle.

I thought this seemed unusual but maybe he was truely seeing the value of my services and wanted to keep me content. But this is not like him. Time is something he never gives generously. It would mean falling behind in the building of his Kingdom against the other realms and losing his foothold of dominance on the continent.

Then out of nowhere it struck me like a Plague Mallet. One of my fellow servants also knows of the Beast's deception. She has been having trouble with the fallen creature's slave girl. This slave girl has become the Beast's right-hand in all matters of the Kingdom. Because he uses her for his own pleasure he is willing to appease her. It is my suspicion that they will attempt to banish my friend while I am gone, for they know we are close.

I am not sure what I will do. In the past I had the faith that I could change my master's heart but apart from Joshu-on's Revealing Power he cannot change. One thing I have learned in all the years I have served the Beast rulers is that the nature of a Beast cannot change and should not ever be trusted.

I will now go and prepare for the worst.

Dead Body Series

2004-07-23T13:32:00.000-04:00

I would like to explain the purpose of the Dead Body Series. It is a group of very short stories that shares with the reader how dangerous and evil our corruptable nature really is. This nature of ours would ultimately lead to our own deaths. Because of God's mercy and active role in humanity, each of us is spared, again and again, from the destruction of our selfishness. This series demonstrates the extreme results of our nature without the existence of God's hand of mercy in our lives.

You could say it is like some of those old fables and tales you read to children that have some kind of moral lesson, warning the reader to be careful and do the right thing. I hope you enjoy them. Beware that you don't also share the same fates, of the poor souls, in the Dead Body Series!

The stories thus far:
The Frog
The Mouse

The Frog

2004-07-19T13:26:00.002-04:00

The frog was admiring the colors in the sky, floating slowly in the pond. The evening sun, large and orange, was setting in a pink background. The water in the pond was slowly lapping against the body he was perched on.

This poor fisherman drifted along in isolation. No one has come looking for him yet. They may never come. This pond is but one of many hidden ponds in these lonely woods. Fishing line was here and there, wrapped around one leg and an arm. A soaked ball cap was lying in the weeds.

Earlier that morning the man came and was standing in his boat, quietly fishing, smoking his cigar, and enjoying the morning breeze.

If only the young man had not been so harsh, when the frog started singing to his mate, and thrown the crumpled up beer can at him. He lost his balance, flailing desperately to keep from tipping the boat, but it was too late. He hit his head on the side of the boat and drowned.

From the Dead Body Series
Written in 2004

Will You Ever Wake Up?

2004-07-16T09:19:00.000-04:00

The sleeping rock
Is thrown against the screaming wall.
It cracks but remains silent.
It won't awake.
Upon the pebble path it lays.

Written in 2003

Flowers

2004-07-15T14:54:00.000-04:00

A Petal tears from its mother.
Swimming through the air
It crashes, stopping, laying next to its brother.
Faded it stiffens, then crumbles to dust-
An orphan death.

You're Haunting Me...Stop It!

2004-07-15T14:40:00.000-04:00

Drifting in the open breeze,
Floating through the closing trees,
I see you there
Staring, at me...
I don't move a muscle.
I just breathe.
Slowly...I breathe.
Then...
I run!
Run!
To the lake I run!
I want to see the sun again!
Keep me from the dark,
Not alone with just your apparition!
Don't leave me staring at you.
Don't keep me in these woods,
Frozen like a fear in a dream.
I'm still again...
My mind is racing.
All I want is to...
Run!
Run!
I will not remain corpsed
In these airless woods,
So I flee!

Flesh Rot, Not Your Normal Disease

2004-07-07T13:53:00.000-04:00

"You smell funky!"

"Thank you, sir!"

"For what putting up with your reeking flesh?"

"No, for making me aware of Flesh Rot, a rare disease. My flesh will become like a cacoon and when it has fully rotted away from my body I will have transformed into a massive beast with wings, claws and sharp teeth.

At this point I will be very hunger and will have the need to consume around 20 people to give me the strength needed to fly. I will soar thousands of feet into the sky. With help from the jetstream, I will fly to the Alps and hybernate for 1000 years. After awakening those many years later, I will be consumed with the strong urge to mate and start the process all over again, perpetuating the species.

Thank you for making me aware. I think Wal-Mart has an over the counter drug for it. I'll stop by on my way home and pick some up."

Drones

2004-06-22T23:34:00.000-04:00

Peel your skin right off your bones;
No longer live as the old earth drones.
Awaken now to their drugging voices
Who, unaware to you, choose all your choices.
They slice your brain in twos and threes,
Then feed them to the stinging bees
Who carry them off to the hive
To cultivate the continued birth of drones.

The Broken Seal

2004-06-22T23:28:00.000-04:00

The window sill is chilly.
The leaky wind seeps through the broken seal, passed the window pane.
The fingering draft caresses her face as she sleeps.
The cold deepens through the skin, to the skull, to the brain.
Gathering in the bones, filling the muscles, it creeps.
Gaining passage the cold eats from her heart its warmth; the blood slows.
Who would have known of the subtle breeze?
The Chill, look how far it goes.
The beating stops; the body's stiff.
The soul faded; the spirit-who knows?
The leaky wind seeps.
What of the broken seal?

What of the Peasants?

2004-06-08T22:45:00.000-04:00

Jesters who throw themselves through windows are not jesters, but fools. But the king thinks they are funny. He is amused by the splintered glass that shatters on the ground and sticks in the skin. But tweezer makers are greatly excited about the increase of sales they are having. Metal smiths and mold makers have heralded the benefits of the king's new form of entertainment. The medical field has mixed emotions, however. Many doctors and nurses are forced into overtime. This is great as far as the pay is concerned because they get double pay. But, their families are not much pleased.

Fathers and mothers have begun to neglect their children. The king has forced them to work harder so that his appetite for bloody jesters is made satisfied. To add more to this, day-care centers are running late into the night. Crying children, runny noses, workers who haven't had their dinner yet and it's 10:30 pm. Hey, but take-outs have been doing great.

Now, you no doubt must be wondering about the jesters. What kind of a person would throw themselves into a glass window? Seriously, this is the question? It must be the guilt they feel when at one time in their lives they were sane and normal. But, they soon discarded this to ease the guilt and embrace the false humility of throwing themselves into a pane of glass. But there is an even more important question. What about the peasant who works in the field, who walks down the dirt road in isolation, carrying a miscellaneous tool, like a shovel, a hoe, or maybe if you like, the possibility of a sharp object, an ax.

The End Fit

2004-06-08T22:25:00.000-04:00

World, wake up!
Stop! Listen! Do you not feel it?
Do you not sense a stirring?
It is the coming of the End Fit.

I hear a great host of spirit beings mounting for the Final Anthem, and a great moving of wind, from the Caller, being inhaled for the Last Trumpet Blast. The Great Centenary shall cavort with the enemy of Death without harm and slay their last. But the slaying is the Finale of the Last Trumpet, which has been prophesied by the Ancient Light Voicers. They have known the story of uttered happenings to come and of now, the Still before the storm of the Word Bearer.

The Great Flood of his mouth shall pour forth in torrents the Words of Truth. Every house shall be shaken as the Word Flood bursts through every door, its justice brought to the Dark Realm, Destroying the no-seeing Words. The Word Life shall gush forth into the Earth King's corridor, braking down its pillars of Death-Love, which have rooted deep into the hearts of the race of men. It has pillaged the Promise of the Full Hope to come, through the Blood Gift of Servant God. He made Humility a king over any who would exalt their pride to oppress the earth dwellers, which are the lead creatures of Creation.

The Great God shall bring the crack of doom to the Dark Eye of the Ash, to uncover the many blackened faces of the Hater's War of Rage set against the Elect of the First Born. The Iron Claw of the Lion will slash open the body of the Bloated Serpent, to burst forth its bowels of evil intent built up for the War of Rage.

The Victory of the Invader's Blood shall wash pure the wounds of Creation and will fill men's spirits with its life, but it shall be for only those who have permitted the Great Spirit to indwell their bodies. Pure will be everything so as to gleam with irresistible brightness to force the Darkness to vacate his throne and flee, only to be trapped in a Water of Fire that shall drown his glory to a silent breath.

No longer will the Voice of Tarnished Thought speak forth an execution of hate. Now life shall spring forth in a Renewal of Hope to proclaim the beginning of the Eternal Morning. All those who have chosen the Son will be filled with an eye-splitting light which shall diffuse their bodies of pain, freeing their spirits. They will be given a body devoid of shame, shaped perfect without flaw, every sinew and ligament formed as a precise work of art, carved to the glory of the Son.

Peace, rest, worship, and beauty shall be the essence of the New Life. The radiance of the Creator will be the prime feature of Light and Worship for this eternal existence. For what purpose of life is there, but to bow our lives before the One who gave the Love of Ultimate Sacrifice?

World, wake up!
Stop! Listen! Do you not feel it?
Do you not sense a stirring?
It is the coming of the End Fit.

The Mouse

2004-05-25T23:50:00.000-04:00

The mouse ran along a beam of the old shack and stopped. He looked down. The old man had been dead for three days now. He was slumped over his desk. His head rested on the sheets of paper he had been writing on. There were a few sketches among the writings as well.

The mouse wondered whether anyone would find him or even know where the old man was. The aged writer would come to the old shack every spring to write his books and sketch out new ideas. For nearly 30 years this ritual took place.

If only the old man had given him the piece of cheese he was begging for, he would not have choked on it when he ate it himself.

From the Dead Body Series
Written in 2004