Realm: The Age Between Breath & Fire

By John Leslie Battenfield

A rugged survivor of a global war, Ezasen finds himself on a rebooted tropical world without technology where giant flora and fauna mingle with angels and a new caste of powerful, perfected humans. He learns that the God King has established His throne and rules with swift justice and a rod of iron.

From warring tribes wielding sticks, long-lived Ezasen watches a largely ignorant and stiff-necked culture advance to interplanetary terraformation and interdimensional travel.

Ezasen has a thousand years to help rebuild civilization and persuade his descendants that the King is also their Judge, that a seething evil resides in each one of them, and that regardless of which age they live in, Jesus is still the answer to their every longing.

• Language: English
• Publisher: John Leslie Battenfield
• Release date: Aug 1, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463430255

John Leslie Battenfield

John Leslie Battenfield is a Christian, husband, father, missionary, and designer. By day, he helps Bible schools and church ministries around the world through creative media. By night, he imagines the future described in the pages of God’s Word.John is currently writing Book 3 in the REALM Series!

Book preview

ONE

The Two Feasts

1

Aftermath

Year 1

Ezasen thrust his elbows out, trying to keep on his feet as the crowd washed relentlessly down the dirty street. The reek of smoke and blood offended his nostrils with every labored breath. He hadn’t eaten for days. The shouts and sweaty, frightened faces around him made it clear. They were running for their lives.

More deafening shots rang out behind him. Shouts of victory from the United Earth Forces soldiers behind them stole all hope of escape. Swarms of T6 aerial drones, known as flying crossbows, firing tiny darts armed with neurotoxins, thinned the stampede with uncanny accuracy. A new level of panic settled like ice around his heart. This is the endgame, he realized as the street narrowed and took a sharp turn up and to the left.

Jerusalem was already a dark maze of stone and filth but was now strewn with the broken bodies of her sons and daughters, losing a war that had ground her people into the dust for more than three years. Half the population had been captured, tormented, raped, and either slaughtered outright or led to detention camps on foot.

Ezasen had arrived here only four days earlier at the end of a long detour in his travel plans. He had been told to find a new life in the relatively peaceful city of Dubai, but a freak accident over the Mediterranean diverted his flight to the Holy City.

The writhing mob, two hundred strong, slammed into a staircase, and the leading edge of the crowd buckled under as Ezasen and others started to scramble over them. He tried to stop to pick up a little girl but was himself knocked against a wall. He reached out and grabbed her and buried her in his chest. God, what is going on? he sobbed.

He risked a glance east. Through the hundreds of columns of smoke rising from the Kidron Valley and the Mount of Olives beyond, he glimpsed the horizon. Morning was finally coming. A crescent moon hung off to the southeast. His bones ached. It felt as if he had been running all night. And now, the feeble, red, sickly sun was trying to rise. His heart sank further. It would only shed light on the death he knew was everywhere.

The girl whimpered in his arms as he swung his legs against the stone wall behind him. The legs of the crowd whipped by his face until they all managed to get up the stairs, and he lay there some minutes more in case any soldiers might pass by and take notice of him.

When the screaming had finally been replaced with moans and what must have been prayers, he gently set the girl on her feet and brushed the matted hair from her face. Under a tattered zipper vest, she wore a pink T-shirt with a kitten on it. A quick glance at the tag inside the vest revealed a word, perhaps a name: Pelekos.

Do you have a name? Ezasen scanned the crowd.

Ana, she said, eyes glazed over with too much exposure to death and loss. I’m five. Her accent betrayed an Eastern European background.

Let’s find your mom.

He took her hand and led her up the stairs. A frantic young woman rushed toward them and scooped Ana into her arms. Oh, thank you. Thank you! She barely made eye contact, rattled by the now-distant gunfire and eager to find safety. She ran off into the smoke.

At that moment, a violent shudder plucked at the foundations of the mountain below them like at a piano string. Those left standing were pitched headlong back down the stairs, and a new round of screams and shouts erupted all around. The pursuing army stopped filling the sky with bullets. A quick aftershock rippled by, and an eerie silence fell upon the city. A dog barked. Klaxons sounded. Seconds ticked by.

Then a third and final quake began, just a vibration at first. Ezasen watched with moon-disk eyes as the street in front of him fell away into black nothingness. With it succumbed the entire row of buildings on the east, while the north and south sides slid away from each other. Dust and soot flew everywhere. He looked up the street at the western tip of the newly-formed ravine and saw a small, bedraggled old man.

Ezasen stared. The man, barefoot and wrapped in ribbon rags, stood oblivious to the havoc around him. His face was serene, though smeared with dirt and blood, and he seemed almost content. The shaking stopped. He was just a few meters away, and Ezasen heard him whisper a single word.

Azel. He said it again louder, staring down into the hungry chasm. Azel. It sounded less like a question this time, more like a long-awaited answer, more like hope. Then he closed his deep, tired eyes and said in Hebrew, Baruch hashem Adonai, El Shammah. Malkuth shamaim. Blessed be the Name of the Lord, the God who is here. But Ezasen did not understand him. English had become so prevalent worldwide that he couldn’t remember the last time he had heard Hebrew spoken. A few other voices joined the man weakly in the chant as he stepped slowly but confidently down into the rubble. Ezasen couldn’t fathom what it was that gave these people such peace, but as the little man was joined by others in the ditch, he shouted the word, and it sounded less like hope and more like fact. Azel!

As it descended eastward, the trough became a crevice; the crevice became a canyon; and the canyon became a valley. Everyone still alive in the city eventually poured into it, including the detachment of UE troops, their black uniforms bearing the hated horse emblem. Ezasen found himself in the midst of the stampede again, but this time the fear and panic were replaced by relief and effervescent joy. What was behind all the elation? he thought, plowing ahead toward the dark hill just east of Jerusalem proper.

The low light hid the path in front of them. Some cried out in shock as they splashed into the bed of the valley. Soon enough, Ezasen realized this thick, rancid flow was not water or mud, but blood. And his feet, trousers, and hands were dripping with it.

He stopped and tried more than once to turn back. Instead, he thrust sideways to the edge of the crowd, pulling and clawing on people, forcing his legs to drag through the tar-like blood. He was back to the west side of the Kidron in a few seconds, but the aborted crossing had taken its toll. He fell to his knees and vomited. The joy he had heard earlier shifted to sober desperation as the rest of them climbed the far bank. More bodies. More death. Ezasen could only think, Was this hell?

He lay on the bank for what seemed like minutes, trying to wipe the blood from his hands and clothes. In the distance, he could hear sirens and helicopters, and soon even the familiar thrum of news drones. A swarm of them had followed the sea of people down from the city. Immune to earthquakes, they broadcasted planet-wide the carnage and the revelry alike. Suddenly, a crack of thunder split the dark, gaping skies above them. Everyone looked up as shimmery light exploded throughout the city. A tear in the black canopy of space had opened, and Ezasen instinctively brought out his phone and started filming.

Golden clouds billowed out of the rift as it widened to fill the eastern sky above the Mount of Olives. Cries of amazement and glee rose to a crescendo from the throng, now numbering in the tens of thousands. Everyone with a phone captured the event. On the clouds rode a massive army on white horses. Their leader, striding out in front, descended toward the rim of the mount, and his steed came to rest on the dry turf. Slowly, and with a confirmed countenance that rivaled the sun in brightness, the man lowered his feet to the ground.

Just before he touched the earth, everything else went dark. Phones, lights from the city, car engines, planes, drones—all dead. The sirens stopped, and the dogs ceased their barking. Planes and helicopters crumpled into the ground, snapped in half, or exploded all around Ezasen, but he didn’t hear them.

Now this being was the only light in the universe. Where had the sun and moon gone? Where was the jaundiced light from all the fires? Nothing but this blazing, magnificent God-man was visible.

Ezasen forgot to shade his eyes from the brilliance. He let himself be blinded by the One, he finally realized, who had caused him to truly see.

***

This godlike figure looked out over the masses with his blazing, penetrating eyes. On his brow were several concentric, gleaming crowns made of some luminous metal. Over and around his head orbited many more diadems, some like crystal, some like iron. The being’s chest expanded as he took a deep breath then uttered a single word.

The sheer power of this simple act knocked everyone backward ten to twenty meters through the bloody muck and over bodies. Some merely staggered. Most hit the ground. But there were some who began to screech in horror as they felt their lungs convulsing inside their bodies. They could each feel the tongue in their mouth begin to dissolve and rot.

When one such death scream sounded beside him, Ezasen managed to pull his gaze away from Jesus for the first time and saw a heavyset, roly-poly African man standing off to the side holding a UE soldier by the scruff of his neck.

The soldier, having heard the single word that the God-man had pronounced, clutched at his own throat as his skin and hair slowly turned into slime then dust. The particles of his body sailed silently away on the pulse of the word, brushing the shirt of the portly man as they went by. Over the next few seconds, the soldier’s tendons, muscle tissue, glands, and organs started to rot in the same way. Finally, his bones showed through, and his carcass fell limply to the ground.

Ezasen approached the man, stepping over several other bodies that belonged to soldiers and civilians sharing in the same gruesome end. Out of nowhere, thousands of ravens and vultures appeared, attacking the corpses hungrily. The man holding the empty uniform wept bitterly. I felt it. I felt the killing power pass through him but go around me. It was so cold and...

His voice was familiar. Hey, man. It’s gonna be alright. Ezasen didn’t believe his own words whatsoever. Um. I’m Ezasen. You helped me get past security at the airport in Guatamala.

I’m Carl, the man said, shocked by the pedestrian tone this new person used in such a defining moment in all of history. I—I work with the resistance, he stammered, helping believers escape.

Thank you, Carl. You basically saved my life! Ezasen’s eyes locked back on Jesus.

Praise God! He put me in the right place at the right time. They shook hands, neither looking at the other.

I’ll say.

He does that all the time. They finally glanced at each other, like brothers meeting for the first time.

I’ll take your word for it, Ezasen smiled. Quick question. Do you have any idea what’s going on?

They looked back at Jesus on the Mount of Olives and saw other horses now landing on the stark hillside, depositing their riders, then returning in great waves back through the rift blown open in the sky. First hundreds, then thousands of people dressed in shining white apparel descended to the valley and spread out through the crowds, embracing some, shaking hands with others, and turning often to observe and bow before their King.

They were almost as brilliant as the God-man. It was as if the stars had descended to the earth and were wandering among its inhabitants. They glowed and smiled. They came from every ethnic background, men and women, and they all looked to be about twenty years old with athletic builds. For a moment, Ezasen imagined he was watching the opening ceremonies of some intergalactic Olympic Games.

One of these beings approached Ezasen and Carl. They dove to the ground, cowering and whimpering uncontrollably. The glorious beauty of the creature was so awesome as to cause them both to worship him. But he touched their shoulders with his hands and said, Do not worship me, for I am your fellow servant and heir. Do not be afraid. He smiled and gestured to Jesus. Worship God.

The glorified man moved on as if in a dream and greeted others on his way. Ezasen and Carl were left transfixed and unable to stand.

This is all happening, right? Ezasen asked through rapid, shallow breaths. He fought a wave of vertigo. It’s actually real?

Yes, my brother, Carl said after literally minutes of stunned silence. Like He predicted two thousand years ago, Jesus has returned.

Jesus Himself was now back on His magnificent horse and proceeding down one side of the valley toward the river of blood. Ezasen was about to call out and warn the Creator of the universe, but Carl clapped his hand, rather violently, over Ezasen’s mouth. The conquering King approached the river without stopping or glancing down. The horse’s mighty hooves went in and were instantly stained red, as were its legs. As the Messiah reached the deepest part, His robe up to His thighs was soaked.

Carl was sobbing, half from deep remorse, half from unbridled joy. Half from disbelief. Half from belief. He’s headed for the Eastern Gate of the city.

The Lion from the tribe of Judah indeed exited the river and made His way up the steep canyon toward a waiting Jerusalem, followed by millions of His chosen people, Jew and Gentile, both glorified and not.

Behold, Carl quoted, He is coming with the clouds, and His holy ones will come with Him. He will set up His Kingdom that will never end, and He will rule the nations with a rod of iron.

2

The Grave and the Grove

The day was warm and humid. I think that might be the last of them, Carl said blandly. I don’t see any more markers. His pleasant demeanor usually lifted the mood of those around him, and it was no different even now. A gentle rain began to fall on the thousands and thousands of mounds of Middle Eastern soil that surrounded the pair of men. Carl grimaced. Even the wicked are made in the image of God.

Ezasen turned and shared a solemn look with Carl then glanced out over the field of graves stretching out in all directions. Lush grasses and wildflowers had now taken residence in the shallow valley, and Ezasen allowed his calloused hands to loosen their grip on his shovel. It fell to the ground as he dropped unceremoniously to his knees. So much death, so many endings—

—In a time when life itself is bursting forth all around us, Carl finished for him. I’ve been thinking. The war is over. The crows and vultures are gone. All the bad guys are gone. This might very well be the Kingdom.

I’ll take your word for it. Ezasen held out a hand and Carl grabbed it, helping him back to his feet. Ezasen brushed his hands together. How do we know we haven’t been beamed to another planet? Or thrown back in time before Columbus? he asked, leaving the shovel there forever. The two men walked together west along the row of tiny green hills somewhere between Yahud and Shoham on the southern edge of what was now called the Sea of Blood.

What are we supposed to do now? Ezasen added. I’ve noticed over the last few months a curious lack of—How shall I put it?— civilization around here. I mean, everything’s been wiped out by all the quakes. Buildings. Cars. Indoor plumbing. And these creepy plants are growing too fast. And the bugs are getting bigger and certainly friendlier.

I know. I know. Carl finally spoke. It’s not exactly what I was expecting either. I was always told the Kingdom was symbolic, an analogy for the church.

It feels pretty real to me, unless we’re in some really freaky, seven-month dream.

Carl closed his eyes, concentrating. No. No. We’re really here. It’s just I need to rethink what I was taught about the Bible.

Well, that’s great. Ezasen was feigning some exuberance. Let’s get everyone together and have a Bible study, maybe sing Kumbaya. But what about after that? Where is all this headed?

We take it a day at a time, my good brother. and we figure it out. We start with that volcano thing. Come on! Carl cracked a wide, bright smile and took off running, drawing on this new, endless supply of energy they both possessed.

Despite his frustration, Ezasen had to smile, too, and he caught up to the large man easily enough. Carl’s words made him squint, peering through the increasing number of raindrops at the unbelievably massive peak forty-five kilometers to the south and east. Smoke or clouds or something constantly rose from its summit like Mount Saint Helens or Yellowstone constantly erupting. He didn’t understand it all, but he was electric with the desire to learn all he could about this strange world he now found himself in. If this was a dream, only half of him wanted to wake up.

This desert had, by some miracle, become a tropical paradise. Miraculously, the shoes he had worn every day for the last seven months showed no sign of wear or tear. He barely remembered what being tired was like. And Carl, who, when they first met, was quite lethargic and spherical in shape, had no fat on his body now and was as strong as an ox. These were mysteries that he decided to explore in the coming days.

Other teams joined them on the path that led toward their camp along one of the hundreds of lively brooks and streams that rushed down from the Mountain to the sea. Saplings were already starting to put forth leaves and buds, and the flowers all seemed to think it was spring. Somewhere beyond the clouds, the sun was setting, which meant the Mountain was about to do its thing. Right at sunset every night, the cloud that pushed up continually would turn to flame. It reminded Ezasen of the story in the Bible where Pharaoh was chasing the Israelites, and a pillar of fire both guided them and lit the way.

The air grew refreshingly cool as the group rounded a sharp bend in the ravine and arrived at their little settlement. It was nestled in a grove of fig trees, although a variety of other species were popping up every day, filling the whole region with sweet aromas.

There were no buildings in the camp, just several tents and makeshift pergolas and hammocks. The rain had stopped, and families sat in circles in the undergrowth working frenetically on some new project. For days they had been anticipating the end of the burials and had pieced together backpacks and fashioned walking sticks and other supplies in hopes of moving on from this sober chapter to whatever the future held for them. Some indeed believed they were living in the Kingdom the Bible promised. For Ezasen and Carl, more evidence was needed. But now they were all bent over little bundles, passing them through an assembly line on their way to sheets or cloth bags.

What’s all this? Carl bellowed, and his three daughters came running. They greeted him exuberantly, and the youngest, Leelah, a busy two-year-old, took his hand and pulled him back toward the grove.

His eldest, Skylah, the awkward one at fourteen, smiled at him with her green eyes and answered, Necklaces and bracelets! We decided to gather all the scraps of cloth and string we had and start making Gospel tools, memorizing Bible verses as we go. Mom is in her element directing and organizing the troops.

I made one. Look, Daddy! Carl’s middle daughter, Willah, industrious and eight, held out her wrist.

What a very good idea, my loves. Carl picked up all three of them and carried them the rest of the way. Ezasen watched as the family sat down together, thoroughly caught up in fellowship. He was happy for them. So many had lost relatives and friends over the last four years or so. Some had literally lost everyone they knew.

He turned right and made a quick stop at the brook for a drink. Something tugged at his pant leg. It was Leelah. She held out her little hand. In it was a bracelet made of striped beads.

Why, thank you, young lady, he said, ramping up the drama. How pretty! She blushed with a wide grin and scampered off like a fairytale woodland creature.

Once among the trees, Ezasen rounded a mulberry bush and found his roost. He had woven truck straps together to design a hammock that hung between the two prongs of a Y-shaped sycamore, so he slept some five meters above the ground.

Four months ago, he had determined to read the Bible through, and tonight he was most of the way through the Psalms. His dinner was hand-picked berries and leaves, all within arm’s reach of his perch.

The Bible was so easy to memorize, or at least it was easier now in this crazy world. He concluded he should have gone off caffeine years ago, despite the violent headaches he endured the first three weeks after seeing Jesus. He was never good at remembering things before, but now, with this new clarity in his mind, there wasn’t a verse that he had read so far that he couldn’t recall instantly. Maybe it was something in the water. The stories were amazing, most of which he was reading for the first time.

He could hardly sleep that night. The blinding sight of Jesus standing on the Mount of Olives seemed indelibly etched on his cornea even after all these days. He had both trembled and longed to embrace Him. Only the horrifying demise of the soldiers around him had pulled his gaze away from Christ. Who was this God who had used Carl to rescue him from killers in Central America? Why did all those people have to die? Was this caveman existence really all there was?

The next morning, Ezasen stood with Carl and his family in the center of camp. The stragglers were just sitting down with their breakfasts when Carl addressed the group. Grace and peace to you in the name of our God and King, Jesus Christ. Before we give thanks, there is something Ezasen would like to share.

Ezasen cleared his throat. Good morning. I’ll be brief. As you know, I have been a believer less than a year, so please have patience with me. I’m reading the Bible and learning a lot. Thanks for welcoming me and treating me like family. Trust is a huge hurdle for me, and I guess it is for all of us after what we’ve been through. I’ve still got a lot to learn. I’m encouraged, however, that none of you are more than seven years older than me in the faith. A few of his listeners chuckled.

Since the burials are now complete, I’m sure we’ve all been thinking about what to do next. I think God wants me to encourage you, as we go, to get into the Bible like never before. Let the Bible get into you. Carl tells me that he believes that, in many respects, humanity is starting over. That we’re not dead. That we’re not on another planet, despite the crazy things going on around here. At this there were a few more smiles from the crowd.

He also thinks that the availability of printed Bibles will be almost zero until technology and infrastructure catches up. I think the total number is around twelve copies for the more than seventy people here. We don’t know how many survived what Jesus did, or where they are. In the meantime, we are the copies, right? We will carry it forward, until it can be mass-produced again. It was a simple Bible tract that led me to salvation. If this is the Kingdom the Bible talks about, then there will be children born who will know nothing of Christ and His love unless we tell them. Thanks.

Carl thanked him and prayed. From then on, they were all intentional about internalizing and studying the few Bibles they had between them and teaching the children to do the same.

That afternoon Ezasen was cordially invited to attend a tea party with Leelah and a few of her friends, including a black rock, a pine cone, and UE helmet. They found a grassy spot in the middle of a field of wildflowers and spread out a section of a parachute. Around the edge, they placed the friends, making sure there was a spot for Ezasen and one for her. For saucers, they used lily pads. For cups, they used acorn shells. She also invited a frog, but he couldn’t stay long.

Leelah knew the drill. She placed the dishes in front of each guest and said a brief yet indecipherable prayer. Then she pretended to pour the tea from a coconut shell into each cup. She handed Ezasen a twig and demonstrated stirring the tea with hers. He obliged, and they sat enjoying the hot, flavored beverage for about twenty seconds before she announced she wanted to ride his back. Heaven. Horsey! was how she made her request.

Ezasen was shocked by the idea that all she knew of horses and tea was what she had learned in this bizarre new reality. She was too young to have any memory of the age that had been before. How soon he would be obsolete! With several nieces and nephews before the rapture, he was an old pro at giving horsey rides. He was the fun uncle that made brick towers and cardboard box forts. He could make the perfect water balloon and the perfect snowball.

He crouched with his back toward her, and she crawled on, squealing with joy before the ride even began. He jogged around the camp a few times, down by the sandbar in the river, and over to Carl’s makeshift family tent to drop her off. She was not pleased when she was told playtime was over. How thankful Ezasen was that he never ended up with kids of his own.

The following day was both the Lord’s Day and Sabbath. Nearly every living soul in the whole region made the trek up the slopes of the Mountain to celebrate the character, plan, and rule of their Savior. As rivers of water flowed down, rivers of worshipers poured into the gates of the outer court of the new temple, singing a psalm as they went.

This would be Willah’s first ascent. She had heard the songs and seen the trains of people making their way in such gladness, but she never imagined how brilliant and wondrous the focus of all the celebration would be. We’re leaving in a few minutes. Won’t you be joining us this morning? she looked back at Ezasen and watched him carving a piece of wood with determination.

Not today, kiddo. He didn’t do her the kindness of looking up. I’m still trying to figure things out. You go on and have fun.

Fun isn’t really the goal, is it? Her brow dropped into a grimace. No. I get it. You’re here, so you must have been chosen. Your words yesterday at breakfast were awesome. But you’re new enough to still be carrying your pride and your guilt around with you, even though it is no longer tied to your back.

Aren’t you supposed to be like, eight, years old? He finally looked at her. She was too small and young for all the deep words that were coming out of her. Sorry. That wasn’t very nice of me to say. See? He held up his piece of wood. Rough edges.

None of us is worthy to go up. We all still have rough edges. Willah sat on the grass in front of him. But it’s not about us, is it? It’s not about somehow becoming perfect before we go to Him. While we were still sinners, He loved us so much that He died for us to give us life. This life. This life that you’re not really living yet. It’s about Jesus. He is worthy.

Ezasen let out a slow, fierce breath through pursed lips and set down the stick. Nail on the head, Willah. I guess I still miss toothpaste and pillows and soap.

She scoffed. You were telling me just last week that you lost your glasses but don’t need them anymore, your beer gut is gone, you no longer get hangnails, you’re no longer afraid of germs, your arthritis and carpal tunnel are gone, you no longer get migraines, and your beard grows in fuller. Aren’t those good things?

That’s an amazing memory you have! You forgot one, though. My feet are still a size different. My left foot is a size twelve, and my right foot is a size eleven!

Your complaining is the opposite of thanks. Maybe you’ve forgotten that we’re not running for our lives anymore. We’re not hiding in sewers from drones.

Ezasen stood, fighting to keep his words to a whisper. We’re stuck in the middle of nowhere with nothing but the clothes on our backs. Besides air to breathe and a beating heart, what do I have to be thankful for?

Isn’t that enough? Willah stood, too, moving her bracelet absently around her wrist. Ezasen closed his eyes and said nothing.

Well, we’ll be here for you. When you’re ready. Her face was still grave as she turned to join her family on the ascent.

3

Tabernacle

Some days later, Leelah had elected Ezasen to take her and her sisters on a hike. They had left just after a rather large and social breakfast, and it was now the middle of the day. They brought no particular provisions, trusting that they could each pick a giant berry or two and be satisfied until evening. Their itinerary today was to follow one of the larger rivers west toward the sea and determine just how far they could get in a day. The goal every day was to see what new plants and animals they could discover and identify.

Ezasen was amazed at the variety and frequency of animals they observed that he was used to seeing only in a zoo. But he had to remind himself often that they were in Israel, even though they were dodging jungle vines and negotiating bubbling brooks in a formerly arid desert plain called the Shephelah. Only rocks, sand, and jackals had dwelt here before this kingdom had commenced.

He had instructed the two older girls not to get too far ahead, and he could hear them talking and laughing without pause some twenty meters away. They were somehow now above him to his left, maybe on the densely covered slope of the valley to find better footing and easier progress, but then their giggles suddenly stopped. The birds and insects seemed to stop, too, and a breath later his blood raced and adrenaline knifed through him. Years of running and fear and hunger and hate had made his instincts finely tuned. He silently plucked Leelah from the low branch in front of him and climbed with a newfound strength and agility up through the levels of foliage toward the spot where the girls had been.

Two young men in shining white priestly robes stood across a clearing from Skylah and Willah. The strangers were extremely tall, well over two meters, and they seemed to have been interrupted in their walk for they had turned and were each still holding a staff out in front of them, guiding two large beasts. The oxen bellowed urging them to continue, and one of the men smiled as Ezasen came to a stop in the middle of the meadow.

Grace and peace to you in the name of Jesus the King, the man said in a voice so sweet and so near that Ezasen fell to one knee. Do not be afraid. Like you, we are the Lord’s servants. You are welcome here. They turned to go, and he felt hands on his shoulders. He tore his eyes away from the men and glanced at the girls who now surrounded him, their faces streaked with tears. Leelah, however, ran out a little further, stopped, and exclaimed, Cow say mooo! She was then immediately distracted by a large beetle and disappeared into the wildflowers.

Ezasen and the girls laughed and sighed with joy. Who were those people? Skylah asked, wiping her face.

I just don’t know, sweetie. Ezasen finally stood as the men and the oxen blended in with the jungle below the Mountain. Maybe angels? Maybe more of those warriors that returned with Jesus?

Willah spoke, still staring at the place she last saw them, hoping for another glimpse. They’re believing Jews, glorified saints from Old Testament times. Did you see their robes and turbans? Priests in Israel were instructed to wear very similar clothes. It is said that in the Kingdom they would be a nation of priests and that the sacrificial system would start up again. They must be taking those oxen to be slaughtered and burnt as an offering to the Lord in the new temple!

I don’t get it, Ezasen said. Your dad told me the sacrifices ended when Jesus died and rose again and tore the veil. Wasn’t He the sacrifice all the others pointed to?

That’s right, she said. But for whatever reason, God has started it up again. It was predicted in Ezekiel. He talks about a new temple and priests and sacrifices, all to take place now, in the far future in the Kingdom. Maybe it’s to remember what Christ did.

They returned to camp in a daze of wonder.

That evening at dinner, they shared their experience with the whole camp. Many passages from the Bible were recited, describing all the glimpses of the age in which they now lived. After the meal, Carl leaned over to Ezasen.

It’s okay that you cried like a little girl back there. Most men fall flat on their face when they encounter a glorified being, as you know. They are part of the millions and millions of God’s people who returned with Christ. They were promised the Kingdom. This is the land and the age they were promised, and they will rule over angels. They have been in paradise with Jesus these last seven years, and they’ve been given bodies like the one Jesus had when he was resurrected. It is said they can walk through walls and travel at the speed of thought. They are holy and without sin. And they are what you will become some day when you die, E.

Ezasen sat on the far southern edge of the grove overlooking another valley with yet more streams. The warm firelight from the Mountain reflected off the ever-present clouds and made the tributaries sparkle like intrusions of copper as they cut along the valley floor feeding a larger river.

His weathered pocket Bible in the metal case lay on his knee open to the book of Zechariah. Leelah lay spread-eagle on the grass a few meters away relishing a juicy fig, the evidence of which was all over her face, hands, and sleeves. A minute later, she was asleep and breathing evenly.

What a different life she will lead from mine! Ezasen wondered. No suffering. No needs. No thorns. No danger. And no memory of war or hate or greed.

His thoughts were interrupted by Carl’s lumbering frame as he joined him there on the knoll.

The stars are different, Ezasen said casually. I don’t recognize any of the constellations.

I hadn’t noticed, Carl remarked, peering into the rare clearing sky as if for the first time. I was always so busy I guess I never took the time to look up and see the amazing things going on above me. That’s part of why I think I missed the truth about Jesus the first time around.

Ezasen cocked his head toward the big man. You know, I’ve known you for weeks, but I don’t think I’ve ever heard your story.

Carl shrugged. Well, it’s not an amazing adventure, except for what Jesus did.

That’s enough to make it amazing. They both glanced over at Leelah, still asleep, as she let out a tiny snort and rolled on to her side.

Well, Carl leaned back on his elbows. My father was from South Sudan and my mother was a Tuareg from Libya. They met at university in Hawaii and lived there until I was sixteen. Then they both got jobs in San Diego as marine biologists, and we basically stayed there until the rapture. A good friend of mine who I visited often on Maui got me interested in ham radio, and it’s been my hobby ever since.

Ah, so helping Christians escape to Dubai was right up your alley with all that audio/earpiece stuff. That makes sense now.

Yep.

Sorry. Go on.

Well, in San Diego we attended a megachurch that was really good about fellowship and outreach but very fluffy when it came to the Bible or how it impacted my life. In fact, it didn’t. The place was this warm, welcoming social network filled with thousands of people following the American Dream. I went to college and met Anaya and got married. I got into real estate right out of college, and the church gave me an instant, huge, wealthy market to tap. I was a millionaire by the time I was 27. I helped a friend build a real estate phone app, and we sold it for half a billion two years later.

Whoa! Nice job!

Well, I say that not because it was some great thing. It was actually the darkest part of my life. It was empty. I was empty. I had everything I wanted: a perfect family, money, prestige. But there was this bottomless pit in my life that I couldn’t fill or cover.

You didn’t become a Christian through your church?

Not remotely. I never heard the real Gospel there. Just because it’s called a church doesn’t mean it was the church that the Bible describes. As the rapture neared, the so-called church was the strongest persecutor of genuine believers. We thought they were crazy and narrow and black-and-white. All that talk of sin and rules and absolutes. We were glad when they disappeared in the rapture. We could get back to our lives of self-serving, pleasure-crazed delusion.

I always thought the aliens took them.

That’s what the culture had been stuffing our brains with for decades before. Yeah, you’re right.

It seemed logical at the time. But I was a big science fiction fan back then. They both smiled. What finally brought you around?

It was a couple I sold a house to in Escondido that finally shared Christ’s love with me. God took me to the absolute end of myself and gave me a new heart that day in their empty kitchen. I had gained the whole world but nearly forfeited my own soul.

God is good, Ezasen said after a long silence.

And His timing is absolutely perfect. Don’t ever forget that! Even when nothing makes sense, He is still on His throne.

But surely all that trouble and testing is over. Christ has won. They call this the Times of Refreshing, right?

Wherever sin is present, Ezasen, there will always be trouble. There is enough evil in us, even in just you and me, to cause chaos and ruin.

Chaos and ruin? A man stepped out from the trees.

Hey, Asher! Carl whispered. Come and join us.

Asher sat down and picked a blade of grass. It’s too nice an evening to be speaking of chaos and ruin. I assume you speak of the past? His Australian accent was thick.

Carl shifted on the grass so they could all view the valley. We were talking about sin, in any age, and its impact on people.

What’s your story, Ash? Ezasen asked. You were part of a church before the rapture, too.

To my shame, lads. Asher threw the blade of grass to the side. "And it was a solid, Bible-believing church in Adelaide. Our doctrine was right on target. Our fellowship and service were right out of the book of Acts. Our interpretation of end time events was spot on. It was a beautiful thing, but I was just going through the motions. I talked the talk, as they say. I had an excellent reputation and I taught Sunday school on occasion, but it struck me one