NEAR THE BROOK OF KEDRON

I think of the story of the garden near the brook of Kedron. I think about it often. That place where another messiah faced his darkest hours. Of all the messiahs, his story speaks the loudest in this particular moment of tribulation.

Am I forsaken?

Have I failed the universe?

Committed some unforgiveable sin?

It cannot be pride, for I have always doubted my worthiness. Wondered why the universe chose me, of all men, to shoulder the crushing responsibility. I have always lived in terror that I might fail.

Faith has been the unyielding pillar inside me, my shield and justification. Faith is a wonderful thing: Just believe, and it will carry you through.

It always has.

And now, in the midnight of my soul, when I am shaken with doubt, I have to ask: What more do you want of me? Haven’t I given enough? Haven’t my people?

We have sacrificed so much, suffered, endured, and prayed in desperation. Didn’t we prove ourselves through trial and fire during our incarceration on Deck Three? Didn’t Prophecy promise us that we would begin anew, grow, mature, and flourish on Capella III before venturing forth in service of the universe?

What we have found here is heartbreaking. In a matter of days, so many are irretrievably dead. In defiance of Prophecy, they are lost forever. I am bereft, crying, “Why?” as I stare up at the night sky.

What if it was all a lie?

I look at the faces of my people. They are so close to desolation and defeat. More so than even during the days of the Harrowing and Cleansing.

The human soul can only endure so much: close to eight years of suffering, with only a nebulous arrival at Capella III to buoy their hopes. Like an intangible dream. But they clung to the seemingly impossible aspiration.

And then the miracle: Release from Deck Three into the light.

Only to be ultimately betrayed.

Hope, promises, anticipation.

Everything we believed.

All a deadly deception.

Was I the greatest of deceivers?

Those are the questions that haunt me. Now I am faced with a bone-numbing decision: Do I trust in the voice of an untried Prophet? Is Shimal truly the voice of the universe? She has said we need to leave.

To go . . . where?

The only avenue left that I can see is to set forth into the forest. To venture into the wilderness as the Prophets of ancient Earth did.

But, if I can believe the warnings given by Vartan, the forest is death.

What am I to do?

What do I trust?

Where is salvation for me and my people?

The universe does not make mistakes!

I must believe. I must believe!