The Elements of Zion: The Vine, The Branch, and The Thorn

Chapter 8

Exiting the grand archway of the cathedral, we found ourselves atop the temple. The sunset bathed Heaven's Landing in a warm glow, and there was Trose, standing still with his wings folded across his chest, waiting for us. A smile curled at the corners of his beak as he saw us approaching. He eyed my armor and the Flame of Zion. "I notice ye've done well for yerself, I daresay."

His compliment, though brief, caught me off guard. I hadn't known Trose long, but there was something in his tone—a weight to his words—that struck me. It stirred a mix of pride and surprise I wasn't prepared for. It felt like a rare nod of approval, one that marked a significant recognition of my efforts and achievements. "Check out this get-up, Trose!" I exclaimed, slapping my chest where the new armor gleamed. "Just finished scrapping with some real prickly guy in the temple, but hey, at least it was a good warm-up for the main event, right?"

Trose's eyes sparkled with a mix of amusement. "Isaac, every tussle with a thorn is a war itself. Count yourself blessed to have won your maiden battle." He then thrust his beak towards the horizon, where the last rays of the sun painted the sky in hues of vermillion and lavender. "But don't forget lad, our journey is far from done. There'll be more enemies, each tougher than the last, hiding in the shadows of the Badlands."

"Hold on, the Badlands? Where's that? Why can't we just stay put here in Heaven's Landing?" I said.

Dove moved forward, bearing a serious demeanor. "The Hall of Souls is deep in the Badlands, Isaac, beyond the Sea of Eden. There's trouble—souls are being misdirected. A darker force is at play, one we can't afford to ignore."

"Not just any dark force, lad. This is bigger—something's been tipped off balance." Said Trose.

A surge of excitement swept through me, and a sense of purpose ignited within. "Then let's round up a fireteam!" I boomed, my voice bouncing off the temple walls. "We gotta get the guardians on board, call in all the branches, heck, maybe even the griffins would be down to lend a beak."

"No, Isaac," Dove interposed, his tone soft yet resolute. His gaze connected with mine, emanating a tranquility that countered the seriousness of his impending words."What we need isn't an army, but careful steps."

I ran my hand over the new armor, still uneasy despite Dove's reassurance.

"Too much attention could stir things up, provoke something we're not ready for. This mission—it's for you and Trose alone."

"Just the two of us?" My grip on the sword tightened, a familiar knot of doubt rising in my chest.

Trose bridged the distance. His wings rustled, feathers catching the fading light of the setting sun and glinting in response. "Isaac, this isn't just a duty for any braw lads, but for the chosen few." His gaze locked onto mine, fiery conviction burning bright in his eyes. "My Lord has it right. We can't risk drawing attention, provoking a battle we ain't prepared for. 'Tis our responsibility, a path guided by wisdom and discretion. We carry not only our own dreams but those of all Heaven's Landing."

Dove advanced toward me, his pristine form seemingly radiating more brilliantly with each feather that mirrored the sun's luminous hues. He offered a slight bow, his eyes shimmering with a blend of sorrow and honor. "Isaac, the path that lies ahead is fraught with hardships, but my trust is in you...in both of you," he acknowledged Trose with a nod. Dove's voice descended to a murmur, "Bear in mind, the The Flame of Zion resides with you. Wield it with prudence."

I nodded, my throat tightening with pride and the weight of everything we were about to face. Gratitude surged up, but I swallowed it and managed a determined smile. "We won't let you down, Dove." My throat tightened with emotion.