***A very fictional tale***
Later that afternoon, back parking lot – Hospital da Ordem’s, Trindade, Portugal…
Closing the hospital building’s back exit door with a loud click and fighting back the grief rising in her soul, Isabella thought of her late grandmother Clemora.
Her sorrow made her slow mournful plodding footsteps on the grey paved surface feel eerily light. It was as though suddenly, something had restrained her feet from its usual light-hearted cantor.
Suddenly, a voice tapped her on her right shoulder…
She turned her head slowly towards the sound but kept her stance poised forward…ready to run.
Isabella heard the familiar voice of her grandmother, Clemora speak:
“What are you doing my little Oracle? Quit pining for me. Get away from this place and go after the stone! Do not live out of my grave. Live your own life. Go!”
In terror, Isabella ran. However, suddenly and inexplicably a strange peace enveloped her awareness.
She began to notice her speed—it seemed double her usual clip. And her strength thundered in her ears as her heart raced faster than she had ever heard it before.
Now distracted by her abilities, Isabella stopped. As usual, she was not out of breath. She noticed the row of parked cars in the lot as life seemed to flow back to normal.
She took in everything: the parking meter on the pole, the light standard next to it, the warmth of Summer in Portugal by the ocean whispering in her nostrils. Laughter and voices from passersby from the street in the distance were muffled, soft, and indistinct.
To Isabella, suddenly everything seemed…more alive. Even the bougainvilleas dotting the parking lot barrier to the side street several meters away from where she now stood, seemed bluer than usual. They were her grandmother’s favorite flowers.
With a combination of awe and disbelief, Isabella realized that suddenly she could “see” and remember every vehicle license plate in the row of cars in front of her …and even those on the three cars parked behind her.
Suddenly, she felt it… As if someone had just reached out of the ether and added invisible tassels to the hem of her Dior jacket and pantsuit.
Isabella knew without a doubt that she was as of this moment, the new guardian of the onyx Templar stone. The only of the twelve Templar stones according to myth, that has the power to bequeath immortality. A myth that persisted for centuries based on a fool’s errand interpretation of the ancient Aramaic inscription on the back of the onyx Templar stone which reads: “There are some standing here who shall not taste death.”
However, Isabella knew from her late grandmother’s teachings—that the truth about the onyx Templar stone was neither about immortality nor, for the faint-hearted.
Isabella breathed in. She understood with a deep knowing why her grandmother Clemora “spoke” to her a few moments earlier.
Isabella knew that her next steps were no longer those of an apprentice. She had matriculated into her destiny. A destiny steeped in secrecy about a race of humans, alive since the great flood, known as—The Nephilim.
****To Be Continued Next Sunday****