The War-Cry

In a single moment, the waking dream between dark sleep and darker reality, the time of gods and earthly powers, the war between vengeful sons and fathers ravenous for dominion…

Stopped.

ΛX 9:6

I never thought I would hear that cry again, the sound of anguished rage echoing across the eons. And yet…

The tsarkol lurched forward out of his silken bed, drawn to my asrētäm, and grasped at the orb with feeble hands; I stabbed into his pathetic bal with a force born of rage, ignoring his whimper of pain, and drew his gikereb.

Holding the blade close to the tsark's neck, I hissed, "The Enemy is here. Our time is now. Strike the Doēul down; destroy Him, lest we all perish."

ΛLVIII 4:12

Drawing my maateh over my head, I observed my target, a tax collector, as he walked the streets below. The Moreh had assigned him to me a month prior, and in that time, I'd followed him from Yerushaláyim to Bēt Lehem, only to sit in the bureau for a week as Yehudah delayed me with trivial tasks.

When I asked him, in a rather annoyed tone, his reasoning for such a wasteful use of time, he simply smiled and said, "To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven, Shimon."

I snarled at him before pounding up the stairs to the roof.

Running over the rooftops, an activity that normally brought a sense of calm over my mind, served no purpose other than to exhaust me and fuel the incredulous rage smoldering within my breast; when I bent over not fifteen minutes later, panting like a dog, the fire blazed within me, warming my limbs.

That's when I saw him. The tax collector was hurrying through the quickly deserted streets, no doubt in an attempt to return to the safety of his home before the 'curfew enforcers' appeared.

My lip curled at the thought. Mere thugs, nothing more. It was a miracle Herod had not slaughtered them by now.

Then again, I had no faith in "miracles".

Rising, I continued my run, keeping an eye on the man as he weaved through backstreets, across fountains, and past crowds of drunken people. Light from the full moon streamed across his reddened face.

Suddenly, the man veered from his course, turning and proceeding down a street that didn't lead to his home.

Biting back a curse, I turned to follow him.

A cry of pain stopped me in my tracks.

I turned back the way I came; a blink, and the moonlight was snuffed out.

I twisted my head this way and that. White, white, white, red, red, white-

A baby's cry.

Annoyed, I turned towards the sound, and froze.

Gold. White. Gold.

What in Hades?

I blinked again, banishing the shadows, then moved towards the edge of the rooftop. The mother, a teary-faced girl, cradled her newborn son, as the father watched over them. Shepherds crowded in, faces in awe; wise men in robes of blue and white knelt in reverence, boxes forgotten for a moment. The animals' cries rose to the heavens.

I held my breath.

The writings of Moses came unbidden to my mind: "Do not draw near this place. Take your sandals off your feet, for the place where you stand is holy ground."

The babe looked up at his mother, regarding her with an unnatural intelligence, then looked at his father with the same gaze.

The earth stood still.

The babe's stare slid to my own, and I recoiled in aweful fear and horror.

Such love, such hate; the sight of judges and kings, of priests and predators, of Father and Lord, in the gaze of a child.

A single word slipped from my lips: Mashiach.

EHYEH ASHER EHYEH.

"Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth. I have not come to bring peace, but a sword."- Matthew 10:34

Dictionary:

tsarkol (tsark)- dirt ("little earth") (derogatory term for "man")

asrētäm- tomb ("place of death")

bal- mind

gikereb- dagger ("small sword")

Doēul- Son of God

Author's Note: I've had this idea in my head for a while, and since it's (supposedly) the birth date of Jesus Christ about two millennia ago today, I figured it would be a good idea to start this story off now.

The main reason I'm writing The Way is to reconcile the ACI-ACII perception of Jesus with the new information from the AC games post-ACIII, as well as to answer some of the issues I have with how the First Civilization/"Isu" came into being and to present my own take on what exactly the "Isu" are.

Of course, since (as far as I can tell) the AC franchise is a bit anti-religious, this is going to be a bit difficult. PM me with your thoughts if you want.

Oh, and that little tidbit about "vengeful sons"? That'll be expanded on in later chapters.

Merry Christmas!

-Nate

P.S: Dividers- Bible verses