Bridget ran until her pads cracked and her toes bled, and then she ran some more.
Terror drove her – a primal, overwhelming dread of every light and shadow, every bush, cricket’s chirp, and whistling breeze. She had no idea where she was going. She couldn’t even remember where that treacherous Scarface had suggested she head. Nor did she care. She clung to the jet-black dragon path, following it where it would lead. She had to, for as soon as she had fled, a murky fog separated her from the rest of God’s world like a wall of dire forbidding. So she ran along the path’s banks, rounding one curve, then another, up one hill and down another. Chill droplets formed in her fur, and her throat burned from the icy mist, but Bridget rambled on, hounded by her fears. It didn’t take long for the greatest of these to catch up with her. She felt its approach in the soft ashen rock, a deep quivering of power and mass. Then the gaze of its starry eyes fell across her back, and she knew a dragon had found her. Bridget threw her weary frame forward, not daring to look back, and yet she could feel the beast closing on her, its stomach churning with lust for her flesh. Within moments it would catch her.
So the one decision Bridget dreaded, she made without a second thought. She swerved off the depressed path as she heard the dragon’s feet grinding the road at her back. As two suns its eyes burned through the dazzling fog, but in an onrushing thunder they passed by and disappeared. Bridget was left lost and alone in the black mist.
That’s how she faced the choice of what to do, where to go. In truth, Bridget didn’t want to choose at all; she had a powerful yearning to curl up in the fog and wait to see what she could at daybreak – if she survived that long. But against her fears remained some strand of her stubborn independence, and that bulwark figured she knew her way back to the dragon’s dead zone. After some hesitation and debate, Bridget gave in and moved. Two sets of ten steps later, it became apparent she wasn’t where she’d expected to be. She stopped, retraced her route, and went a different way. The result was the same – the stark terror of being all alone in an alien land.
“Why?” she cried out, knowing only God could hear her. “Why did this have to happen to me?”
Words from the past echoed through her mind. So now your selfishness, your petty hopes and fears, they all must end. For God Himself has chosen you to do this. Do not fail.
Bridget wept. She had her answer.
It was so clear now. Sebastian had charged her with that command, to “guide and protect the Lady Jessica.” And yet Bridget had fallen victim to her selfish nature almost as soon as he’d gotten her back home – demanding Jessica’s attention when her beloved giant couldn’t give it, disregarding the wondrous protections her giants provided, coveting what she didn’t need and couldn’t have. On all counts, she had failed.
Her memories chanted on. It has been my calling, and my pleasure, to keep a watch out for the Lady Jessica…. But my time is at an end….
“Okay!” Bridget screamed. “I’m sorry already!”
It is a great responsibility, Bridget, to serve among the angels…. Now it is yours….
“Oh, Lord,” she whispered, “I’m so sorry.”
Now it is yours….
“Agh! What more do you want from me?”
Now it is yours….
“I said I was sorry. I am! But I don’t know what I can do about it now! I don’t even know where I am!”
Now it is yours….
Bridget could almost feel Sebastian beside her, speaking words as crushing as boulders. She recalled how he’d come to her in the shepherd’s woods, beckoning her to follow.
Now it is yours….
All at once she could see him, a shimmering ghost in the cold, damp air. Silent, unimposing, Sabastian came as he had before – motioning for her to follow, then disappearing into the mist.
Bridget felt her heart quiver, her muscles shake. A great weariness swept through her bones. Sleep summoned her.
“I’m dreaming,” she whispered. “That must be it.”
Even as she said this, Bridget knew it was no dream, but self-condemnation. She was dredging up the painful past because she had failed God, Sebastian, and Jessica. Bridget deserved all she had brought upon herself. She deserved to die.
The phantasm drew near once more, motioning for her to follow. Bridget shuttered her eyes. The vision was too painful to behold.
“Lord, forgive me,” she said, collapsing to the wet grass. “I have sinned against you. I am undone.”
“No, my child,” came His gentle reply. “You are redeemed. Now come with Me.”