Temptation [A Young Writer's Prize Submission]

Free Will

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go; I will counsel you with my eye upon you.

Psalm 32: 8

I was flying. I could feel the wind whistling through my hair, caressing my skin. I must have been moving at quite some speed because the houses beneath me were out of sight before I even focussed on them.

I should have been cold, but there was a warm glow within me that spread to the tips of my fingers and toes. I wasn't alone - I knew that by instinct - a part of my psyche, previously untouched, had detached from within me, soaring at my side. It would not let me fall. I felt daring through this lack of gravity.

"Who are you?" I asked calmly, initiating the conversation. I couldn't crane my neck to see what this spectre looked like; the force of the air would have injured me.

"Someone who has known you all your life," the spectre replied calmly. "There is no need to worry."

I was enthralled by this voice - as soothing as a parent, but still intriguing, teasing at my curiosity. I wanted to hear more.

"Where are we going?" I asked, noting how insignificant I sounded in contrast to that magnificent voice.

"To witness," he intoned.

"Witness what?" I pressed.

"Child, if I told you, it wouldn't be a true witness, now would it?" he answered sensibly.

"That sounds... uncommonly reasonable," I mused.

"I have been known to be that on occasion," he chuckled. The freeness and contentment in his laughter had me laughing in response. It made me feel good. I couldn't remember ever laughing out of sheer delight. Hardly knew it was possible. In truth, I felt freer than I ever had been before. I cared for nothing at all: where we were going, who I was with - I felt safe, and I knew I was loved.

We came to a stop as the morning came upon us, and I looked down at the world below me. The trees tried to stretch up to hug me; the rivers smiled at us, twinkling in the dawn. The plains saluted us with their lush beauty as we gazed down upon them. I noticed that my companion emanated adoration upon these creations, the love and pride of a father whose every ambition had been fulfilled.

"I used to play in that field when I was younger," I recalled, pointing to a small insignificant one, close to the river.

I felt his smile as he replied; "I also remember that field," a sense of wistfulness passed over us as he spoke of times past. "I have watched as it was claimed by men time and time again. I have seen the ground saturated with blood from battles; watched as it made its recovery and become fertile. Then, men have borne fruit from the earth, or used it to graze their animals. Then I have seen it fall into disuse; men have fought to claim it with as much brutality as before, albeit different methods. Now, it has become as I had hoped; a meadow where animals and insects can live."

"That's very... insightful," I said, surprised at the depth of his tale.

He laughed; "I have a tendency to be rather poetic with my thoughts," he turned to me. "Much like you, I think."

"I'm hardly poetic," I shrugged off his words, uncomfortable with them.

"I'm not talking about speaking in verse or rhyming words," he guided. "You see things in a way that nobody else does. You've got a sense of inevitability, and yet, there is an optimistic streak within your spirit. You constantly struggle between knowing not to trust others, and wanting to."