Lucetta's gaze traveled back up from feet to face. His eyes were green. Well, maybe more of a blue. Or perhaps it was gray? Whatever their color, the eyes didn't seem to fit the face, which was young and smooth. The eyes seemed too old for the rest of him. They were deep, filled with the fullness of years. Sadness, joy, compassion, love, hate -- every conceivable emotion seemed to be rolling around inside steady eyes of a color that had no name. She noticed all of this briefly, and then he spoke:
"Greetings! Do not be afraid."
Lucetta stammered a moment, realized how foolish she must sound, and took what was meant to be a deep calming breath. She choked on the lung full of air and went into spasms. She wheezed a moment, and finally gained some semblance of composure. She noted that the being hadn't made any move to help her. Once again she attempted to communicate. "You, um, you…you're not who I was just talking to. Are you?" she asked hopefully.
"No, child. I am but a simple messenger from the Lord."
"Oh," she said with great relief. "So you're a messenger. Not, well, I mean…I thought that you were…um, like, you know." She realized that she was close to losing the poise she'd worked so hard to build up, so she changed the topic. "Do you have a message for me?"
He inclined his head in a graceful nod. "Yes, it is as you say. I bring tidings of hope."
She waited a moment, but he didn't continue. She wondered if it would be a breach of protocol to prompt him, and decided to wait. She attempted to look at the messenger's glow for a moment, wondering if it was really there or not. For that matter, she wondered if the messenger himself was really there or not. Perhaps she had gone insane. But she didn't feel crazy. Did crazy people know the depths of their insanity? The glow caught her eye again. The way it came and went made her unsure if she was actually seeing light or if she was just imagining it. Disconcerted, she looked away into the forest. It was then that she noticed that something was wrong.
Throughout the entire time she had been lost in the woods, Lucetta had been able to hear birdsong. Now complete silence filled the air. As soon as she noticed this the quiet became unbearably loud, pressing heavily against her entire body, begging to be broken be some sound, any sound. No breezes rustled the leaves, no sunlight danced upon the forest floor. All was unnaturally still.
Hardly daring to breathe, it seemed to loud, Lucetta looked questioningly at the messenger. He spoke again: "The message brings to you a choice. In order for you to have time to make this choice, I have halted the flow of time. Time's normal flow will not resume until after you have made your decision."
"Do you normally go around stopping time like this?" she asked, gaping eyes darting from glow to face. It must take an enormous amount of power to be able to stop time. He gave no answer and the silence pounced. Unbearable quiet descended.
"Just give me my message," she snapped. Was it the silence that made her demand seem so loud, or had she just yelled? Lucetta knew that she shouldn't be rude to someone as powerful as the messenger obviously was, but she had been frightened more times in this one day than any other day in her memory. It wasn't fair. How much could one person be expected to endure?
For a moment she thought he wasn't going to answer. Then he cocked his head to one side and nodded. She realized that she was holding her breath in anticipation. "This is the message as it was told to me by the great Arctimedian himself, personal messenger of the archangel Micheal, who reports directly to the Lord and is the present commander of all the angelic hosts: 'Knowledge is greatly valued, but wisdom comes at greater cost. Once learned it is not easily forgotten, and is worth more than the wealth of many kingdoms.' "
This was her message of hope? Lucetta was reasonably sure that there was already something in the Bible about this. It sounded like it could have come straight out of Proverbs. They'd gone through the trouble of stopping time just to tell her that?
It was at this moment that a horrible doubt shoved its way to the forefront of Lucetta's mind. She'd been having doubts before of course, but they'd mostly been of the disbelief in the entire situation category. Now she began to doubt the messenger; not uncertainty of his existence, but skepticism of his claims. He said he was sent by God, but had he proved it? What if he was really sent by someone else? And who else was there to send him but a demon of the abyss? There were only two sides to a coin. It had to be one or the other.
She didn't know how to find out which was true. If he had been sent by one, a question would offend him. If he was sent by the other, he would lie to suit his purposes. She reviewed the encounter in her mind, recalling specifically that he hadn't helped her when she was choking. Of course, maybe he had just realized that it wasn't serious and there wasn't any need to help. She also didn't like his sudden silences. They seemed suspicious, but then, she knew nothing about normal angelic behavior. Maybe asking wasn't such a bad idea after all.
Before she could change her mind, Lucetta asked, "How do I know that you've really been sent by God?"
He looked neither offended nor especially surprised by the question. To her own immense surprise, he answered her. " I offer no evidence other than my words. You must choose what you believe based on them alone."
"Is that what you meant when you said a choice came with the message?" she asked.
"No. The choice is this: you have been given the opportunity to learn what it really means to follow the Lord. If you choose to accept this opportunity, you will gain understanding and wisdom."
"And if I decline?"
"If you choose to decline, a soul will be lost."
"A soul? Do you mean my soul?" He gave no answer. She twisted her face into a fierce glare, but he seemed not to notice. He was trying to coerce her into accepting through fear. What infuriated her was that it was working. She wasn't about to let him know that she was frightened. "I thought I was supposed to have free will," she stated in an even tone.
"There is always a choice. What you choose to do is entirely up to you."
"Some choice." There was always the chance that he wasn't telling her the truth about anything. She needed more information. "What does this 'opportunity' involve?" she asked.
"You will be told what you need to know when you need to know it. Right now you have all the information necessary to make your choice. Choose!" he replied, seemingly impatient with her hesitation.
He didn't fit into Lucetta's conception of what an angel should act like, but that was no reason to risk her soul. "All right then. I accept. What do I do?"
He smiled. "Sit on that," he commanded, pointing at the flat rock. "I will do the rest."
She wondered if it was too late to back out. She had a feeling that it was, and sat on the rock. Before she could ask another question, a blinding flash of light caused her to shut her eyes. The light seared through her eyelids, seemed to stab into her brain and grow in intensity. Blinding pain, at least, she thought it would have been blinding if she hadn't already had her eyes closed, filled her entire body. Nothing she had ever experienced hurt half this much. Her thoughts grew fuzzy, unfocused. Her last coherent thought before the growing blackness claimed her was that she hated the flat rock upon which she rested.