Word of Hope and Ruin: Book 3

By Susan Alford Ashcraft, Candace Alford Barnett and Lesley Alford Smith

DARK FORCES ARE GATHERING, TWO WORLDS PREPARE FOR BATTLE. OUR DESTINY IS WRITTEN, YET OUR FATE IS UNCLEAR. I'VE SEEN IT IN MY DREAMS.

My name is Lily Quinn. Like my brother, Lucas, I am a Sorcha, a descendant of the disciples of Christ. The power of the light lives inside me. As one of the twelve, I wield an extraordinary supernatural

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trilogy Christian Publishing
• Release date: Oct 13, 2023
• ISBN: 9798890410085

Susan Alford Ashcraft

The imaginations and spiritual lives of the Alford sisters were ignited by listening to their grandparents' stories of angels, demons, and the power of supernatural gifts. Susan, a university professor of psychology, Lesley, a pastor, and Candy, a graphic artist, combined their gifts of writing, storytelling, and illustrating to create the compelling Descendants of Light series.

Book preview

Ashcraft_Barnett_Smith_6x9_Cover_527A_Front.jpg

Word of Hope

and Ruin

Descendants of light series, book 3

Susan Alford Ashcraft

Lesley Alford Smith

Candy Alford Barnett

Trilogy Christian Publishers

Tustin, CA

Trilogy Christian Publishers

A Wholly Owned Subsidiary of Trinity Broadcasting Network

2442 Michelle Drive

Tustin, CA 92780

Word of Hope and Ruin

Copyright © 2023 by Susan Alford Ashcraft, Lesley Alford Smith, and Candy Alford Barnett

Scripture quotations marked ESV are taken from the ESV® Bible (The Holy Bible, English Standard Version®), copyright © 2001 by Crossway Bibles, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers. Used by permission. All rights reserved. Scripture quotations marked NKJV are taken from the New King James Version®. Copyright © 1982 by Thomas Nelson. Used by permission. All rights reserved. Scripture quotations marked TPT are from The Passion Translation®. Copyright © 2017, 2018 by Passion & Fire Ministries, Inc. Used by permission. All rights reserved. ThePassionTranslation.com. Scripture quotations marked KJV are taken from the King James Version of the Bible. Public domain.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without written permission from the author. All rights reserved. Printed in the USA.

Rights Department, 2442 Michelle Drive, Tustin, CA 92780.

Trilogy Christian Publishing/TBN and colophon are trademarks of Trinity Broadcasting Network.

Cover design by: Candy Alford Barnett

Illustrated by: Candy Alford Barnett

For information about special discounts for bulk purchases, please contact Trilogy Christian Publishing.

Trilogy Disclaimer: The views and content expressed in this book are those of the author and may not necessarily reflect the views and doctrine of Trilogy Christian Publishing or the Trinity Broadcasting Network.

Manufactured in the United States of America

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available.

ISBN: 979-8-89041-007-8

E-ISBN: 979-8-89041-008-5 (ebook)

Dedication

For our children, Kaitlyn, Caroline, Noah, Emma, and Ansley, this is your story.

Now my beloved ones, I have saved these most important truths for last: Be supernaturally infused with strength through your life-union with the Lord Jesus. Stand victorious with the force of his explosive power flowing in and through you. Put on God’s complete set of armor provided for us, so that you will be protected as you fight against the evil strategies of the accuser! Your hand-to-hand combat is not with human beings, but with the highest principalities and authorities operating in rebellion under the heavenly realms. For they are a powerful class of demon-gods and evil spirits that hold this dark world in bondage. Because of this, you must wear all the armor that God provides so you’re protected as you confront the slanderer, for you are destined for all things and will rise victorious.

—Ephesians 6:10–13 (TPT)

"Blessed be the Lord my Rock, Who trains my hands for war,

And my fingers for battle."

—Psalm 144:1 (NKJV)

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Glossary

Chapter 1

Many generations ago

Hidden in the tall grass, Amhlaid stared solemnly at the thick smoke billowing into the lightening sky. His home, his clan, everything he had ever known, was gone. He rolled onto his back and studied the linden trees towering above him. He knew he needed to run, far away, just as his father had told him. His brother, Alphaeus, had probably covered a great distance on the road north already. He needed to follow, but he couldn’t leave, not yet. A rush of sweet memories flooded his brain. His beautiful mother, Marhe, a smile gracing her face no matter how much he frustrated her; laughing and getting into mischief with his brother, Alphaeus; boasting with his friend, Jabin, about who would win the affections of the prettiest girl in their clan; nights around the fire, listening to his father speak of his time with Yeshua. But, in a flash, his reality had shifted. He was now very much alone. Or at least he would be very soon.

After killing everyone in the village, including his beloved mother, they had bound his father and taken him off in the direction of the standing stones. Simon the Zealot was still alive. His feet were moving before he finished his thought. He would be with his father until his last breath. Amhlaid had made himself this promise long ago when his father had first shared with him the significance of the book he was writing. Within its pages lay the strategies and tools needed to defeat the enemy of the light—Lucifer, the prince of darkness.

Amhlaid knew Elohim had gifted his father with the ability to write this book because of his father’s past and training. Before he was chosen by Yeshua, Simon had been a warrior—a zealot—a man who possessed a passionate zeal for freedom. Living a life of stealth and strategy in a fight against Roman rule in his homeland, his father was no stranger to warfare. Who would be better to write a book containing information that would destroy Lucifer’s power in this world?

But Lucifer was determined to destroy Simon and his book, keeping its truth hidden forever. Because Simon understood this, he had written the book in a language known only to him and Elohim. A language that could not be understood without using a specific code, a key of sorts. Simon had given this key to him so it could be protected. He must keep it safe until the next generation of Sorcha united and retrieved it. Only the Sorcha could decipher the key and use it to reveal the contents of his father’s book. The message would remain a mystery until then. Even if the book fell into evil hands, it could not be read without the key. Always the strategist, his father had ensured the safety of the message, separating the key from the book. The burden of the responsibility his father had given him weighed heavily upon him. Even now, the parchment hidden beneath his cloak felt hot against his skin. Obviously, the light within it was strong.

When he arrived at the standing stones, a bloodthirsty crowd of villagers was already gathered. He pulled his rough woolen hood more closely around his face. He knew he was taking a great risk. He could be identified at any moment. Yet, he was determined to stay with his father until the end. The cold air of the coming dawn stung his lungs. He rubbed the silver medallion that lay against his chest. The tree engraved on the circular disc was as clearly defined as it had been the day his father had given it to him.

Amhlaid swallowed the lump in his throat when they brought his father to the center of the circle. They pushed him to his knees, his arms bound behind his back. His clothes were torn, his strong face battered and bleeding, but the light of purpose shining in Simon’s eyes gave Amhlaid courage. His father was at peace amid the chaos, a lesson he had surely learned from Yeshua. His father was a Sorcha, chosen by Yeshua, Elohim’s Son, to bear witness to the power of His light. The light that lived in his father was vibrant. It could not be quenched. It had served as Simon’s guide and protector for most of his life. He had no doubt the light would strengthen his father at his end. Unfortunately, this assurance did not make it any easier for him to watch the horrific scene unfold. He schooled his features, remaining a passive onlooker as the savage crowd hit, kicked, and taunted the broken man kneeling in the dirt. The vise squeezing his heart tightened as his father’s executioner strode triumphantly into the center of the stone circle. He began to pray, his lips moving silently, reciting the prayer his father had taught him, one he had learned from Yeshua.

Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.

The man’s icy blue eyes were filled with a look of twisted pleasure when he thundered, Cease!

Amhlaid had first learned of the stranger two days ago. He and Alphaeus had been in the village bartering Marhe’s soaps in exchange for the seeds their clan needed to plant their crops this season. His mother’s soaps, made from the creamy-yellow, star-shaped flowers of the linden trees near their home, were highly sought after by all the villagers. The stranger had approached them and introduced himself as Cain, a traveler from across the great sea. Amhlaid had felt an uneasiness settle on him almost immediately. When he and Alphaeus arrived in the village the next day, everything had changed. The villagers looked at them with suspicion, refused to barter with them, and whispered the words sorcery and evil as they walked by. Distrust and anger now replaced the friendship and acceptance the villagers had always extended them. When Alphaeus had approached his friend, Macus, the blacksmith, the young man had spit on him, calling him a devil. Too late, he realized that Cain had turned the village against his father and their clan. Labeling Simon as a dangerous sorcerer in the service of an evil God, Cain had manipulated the people’s superstitious minds for his own gain. No longer a Dìonadain, Cain had betrayed Simon and the light and was now in the service of a new master, Lucifer. In exchange for unfathomable power and riches, Cain had vowed to destroy Simon and acquire his book. The villagers’ bloodthirsty shouts intensified. Cain moved to the stone table positioned within the circle. Amhlaid knew his father had only moments left in this life.

Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors.

Bring him, Cain ordered.

They hauled his father roughly from the mud and lifted him onto the granite altar. Stretching Simon’s body painfully, the men secured his hands and legs with thick rope to wooden stakes at either end of the slab.

And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.

When Simon turned his head toward the crowd, Amhlaid met his gaze. Simon’s bruised and broken face showed no hint of surprise. His father had known he would be there! This realization steadied Amhlaid. The vise gripping his heart slowly released. He exchanged his anger and fear for purpose and resolve. Simon offered his son a faint smile. No words were necessary. Father and son understood each other. This goodbye would be the end for Simon and the beginning for Amhlaid.

For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, for ever. Amen.

Cain brandished a wicked blade over his father’s body, and the crowd roared with delight. He paused for effect and then drew the saw’s jagged teeth across Simon’s belly. A blinding light burst forth. The crowd fell back in fear. At their response, Amhlaid stood straighter. Simon the Zealot, full of light and power, would not be forgotten. As the sun began its slow ascent into the sky, signaling the dawn of a new day, he faded silently into the still shadows of the green forest. The path before him was clear. He would protect the key—for his father and for the light.

He traversed the dense forest as quickly as he could. Deep in its mossy gloom, he felt protected. A steady rain soaked the trees and the forest floor below. For several hours, he walked, frequently looking over his shoulder for danger. He would drop to the damp earth or crouch behind a towering tree at any sound echoing in the shadows of the forest. The darkness would come for him. He had to make it to the coast before it caught up with him. From there, he wasn’t sure where to go or how to get there. He just knew he had to get the key across the sea. When he caught the scent of salt in the air, he quickened his pace.

At the woodland’s edge, the land transitioned into a series of rocky outcroppings leading down to a sandy beach and the sea beyond. Crouching behind a huge rock, he scanned the area intently. Other than a few birds flying overhead, the beach was deserted. He leaned back against the rock and sighed. He patted his chest where the parchment still rested against his skin beneath the cloak. It was still warm to the touch. He needed help, and he knew only one way to secure it.

Elohim, from the end of the earth, I call to You. My heart is faint. My path is unclear. Show me the way.

Looking back out at the grey waves rolling into the coast, he spied a small boat. He stiffened. Although he wanted to believe this was the help he had prayed for, he wondered if it might be a danger as well. He decided to stay in his present position behind the rocks until he was sure. When the boat made shallow water, a man jumped out into the surf and dragged the craft up onto the beach. He studied the man. He was older, well-built, and quite large. He was dressed in the rough garb of a fisherman. When he raised his gaze to the man’s face, he was startled. The man was looking directly at him as if there was no rock obscuring his view. When the man smiled and beckoned to him, the peace that flooded his spirit confirmed that his prayer had been answered. He left the rocks and met the man on the beach.

I believe you are in need, my friend, the man said warmly. May I offer my help?

Amhlaid rubbed his chest, feeling the parchment underneath his tunic heat up against his skin.

I need to go north—as far away from this land as possible. Will you take me there?

The man studied Amhlaid’s chest as if he knew what was hidden there.

I know a place, the man whispered. I will take you. I am Nolan. Elohim has sent me.

Amhlaid extended his right arm, and the man clasped it with his.

And I am Amhlaid, son of Simon the Zealot.

The peace in his spirit was magnified at the man’s touch. His father had told him stories of the mighty Dìonadain, warrior angels that served as guardians for those appointed by Elohim. He knew Nolan would not only guide him on his journey north, but he would also protect him from the darkness if it came.

Across the sea then, Nolan said.

He settled into the boat, and Nolan pushed it out into the water, climbed in, and hoisted the small sail.

Rest, my friend, it has been a trying day, Nolan urged. I will watch over you.

Lying down in the bow of the boat, he closed his eyes. For the first time, he allowed himself to feel his grief. He cried for his father and family. When he could cry no more, he slipped into a peaceful, dreamless sleep lulled by the motion of the boat on the water.

Wake up, my friend, Nolan announced. We have arrived.

Roused from his sleep, he had no idea how long he had slept or how much time had passed. Yet, he felt rested and energized. He spied a rugged coastline on the horizon. A milky white ribbon of cliffs, jagged and folded, jutted up beyond the sandy shore. It was brilliant in the morning sun. There was a small village nestled under the cliffs.

They call it Eylenda, Nolan said. Here you will find what you need for your journey.

Eylenda, Amhlaid repeated. "It’s beautiful. This is not our final destination?’

No, we must go even further north, to an island of snow and ice, Nolan replied. There you will hide your father’s key…

And wait, he finished Nolan’s sentence.

Is it safe? he asked, pointing to the village.

Yes, Nolan answered. They are to be your people, Amhlaid, your new family.

I won’t be alone, he whispered in awe.

Elohim knows your heart, my friend. He knows what you need. He sent one of my brothers here before us. He has prepared the people for your arrival. You will soon become their chieftain, Amhlaid. And they will help you protect the key.

When Nolan pulled the boat onto the shore, Amhlaid climbed out and readied himself to greet the small group of people gathered there. Old, young, men, women, all bowed their heads in respect. So much had happened…so quickly. It was difficult to get his bearings. Yet, he could hear his father’s voice in his head saying, Embrace your destiny, my son. Whatever lies ahead, you will not face it alone.

Amhlaid walked toward an older man who stood in the center of the group. He was dressed in leather breeches, soft boots, and a fur pelt was strung across his chest. Both his long blonde beard and hair were braided intricately. Amhlaid extended his arm in greeting and was given a tight bear hug in return.

My brother, we have been waiting for you. Preparations are underway for our journey. Come, warm yourself by the fire.

He followed his newfound brother to the firepit in the center of the village. The flames warmed his body. Before sitting down, he said, Thank you, ah…

I am Sweyn. You must be hungry from your journey.

Yes, very much so.

Finna! Will you feed our brother, please? Sweyn called before moving back toward the beach.

He settled by the fire and studied his surroundings. Everyone was moving. Wagons were being loaded, and livestock, corralled. A few yards away, Nolan was in deep conversation with a hook-nosed man with dark skin. Amhlaid assumed this man was the other Dìonadain warrior that Nolan had mentioned.

Here you are, sir, some goat stew to warm your belly.

Finna was small but not frail; pretty, with her braided hair and rosy cheeks. She waited patiently until he took his first bite of stew.

Thank you, Finna. It’s good.

Finna smiled sweetly and blushed.

Will you sit with me while I eat? I want to know of your village, your people.

Your people now, Finna said softly.

My people, yes. Please, call me Amhlaid.

Chapter 2

Present day

The heels of her boots clipped as she walked across the rough-hewn planks of the porch floor. It was twilight. Wedged softly between light and darkness, the sky appeared diffused, like a slow fade into nothing. Reticent to go into the house, she took a seat on the old swing that looked out over the rugged landscape. Memories flooded her mind of a time and place that was much simpler, a time before the hands of death had squeezed the light from her soul. Perched beside her father on their wooden swing. This spot had been her favorite place whenever her family came to the mountains. Often, she would spend the day here reading one of her treasured Nancy Drew books. Staring into the shadowed forest beyond the porch, she remembered one day in particular.

Tell me a story, please, Father, she pleaded, tucking her bare feet underneath her small body.

Little One, haven’t you grown tired of my stories?

Never, she exclaimed, scooting closer to him.

She worshipped her father, and any time spent alone with him was a gift. He was so often gone on business.

All right, then, he acquiesced in a low tone. Did you know that right here, under the shadow of these vast mountains, a family just like ours built a home?

Was it a house like ours?

Not quite. It was a cabin made from the trees in our forest. It stood right where ours does today. The family was happy here. After supper one evening, the daddy left the cabin.

Where did he go?

Well, he went to see his horses. It was time for their supper, he answered.

She giggled. I bet they liked apples.

I bet they did too. When he didn’t return, the mother sent her children out to bring their daddy back. Soon after, she heard her two little boys and their sister scream. The mother was scared. So, she grabbed the ax that always rested by the door and left the house. When she heard the screams again, she ran in their direction, toward the river.

I bet it was a bear. I know I would scream if I saw one.

No, it was something much worse. When the mother arrived at the bank of the river, she saw a group of men standing over her children.

"Oh, no! Were