Previously on Hidden Fragments
The Scrolls had been recovered, but safety was fleeting. Knowing that keeping them would endanger Isola and Tobin, Calen made the painful decision to leave once more, trusting God to guide him toward the Grey Mountains and the mysterious Bridge of Echoes. Burdened by responsibility and past failures, yet strengthened by faith, he set out alone, determined to protect the Scrolls and fulfill the mission entrusted to him.
Meanwhile, Marisa endured imprisonment under the volatile Captain Droskar. Though cast into darkness and deprivation, her faith did not waver, and in an unexpected turn, she was released without explanation. As she rode away, free but uncertain, unseen forces were already moving behind the scenes, and the shadow of pursuit quietly followed her path.
Chapter 23
Never Alone
The first time, the journey to the Bridge of Echoes had been easy. Peaceful almost.
He’d traveled with Sylvaine Vrax and Marisa to the Grey Mountains, almost as if they were on holiday. What a fool he’d been. That would not happen again. Now his eyes swept every shadow and every tree line, constantly searching for danger the way Marisa once had.
As soon as he had left Isola and Tobin’s, he made his way to the Grey River as best as he remembered. He found it without much effort. From there, the path was simple. He just had to follow the Grey River until it led him back to the so-called resting place Sylvaine Vrax had bragged about, where Slink had ambushed them. Thinking of it still made him wince. He’d been chattering carelessly, cracking jokes with that traitor, who was probably lounging in some pub right now, bragging to his friends about his adventures over a mug of Ogre Ale. It didn’t matter. Isola was right; God would deal with Vrax in due time.
His job was to stay alert.
He stayed as far from the river as he could. If there were soldiers looking for him, they would be watching the water. Thus, he followed the silvery stream from a distance, staying hidden in the forest whenever possible.
The bag of Scrolls on his back seemed heavier than before. Calen knew why. The responsibility of keeping the words safe now rested solely on his shoulders, and he was not about to make another mistake.
After several hours of travel without seeing any soldiers, he allowed himself a break. Just a few minutes. He found a secluded spot on a sunny glade; a lovely place filled with forest sounds. Birds twittered overhead and a gentle wind rustled through the branches. Far in the distance, he could still hear the rushing waters of the Grey River. If only life could always be this beautiful.
As he took some of the bread Isola had supplied, he sat down and leaned against a large oak tree. How he missed them all; Isola, Tobin, and of course… Marisa. He would have liked to stay in Isola’s warm, cozy house, but he could not. He had a mission. Still, thinking of Isola’s house with the little desk where he’d copied the scrolls, the childish laughter of Tobin, Isola’s wonderful cooking, and even Pax, that furry white mongrel, was pleasant, although it made him a little homesick.
But all those days had been spent with Marisa… Oh, Marisa, where are you now?
His thoughts drifted. The silence of the forest, the scent of grass, the warmth of the sun… his eyelids grew heavy. Before he knew, he had dozed off.
***
“Calen?” a voice called out.
Calen stirred and looked up in surprise. The atmosphere around him had changed. A blanket of silence lay over the forest. It was eerily still. There was no familiar twitter of birds; the wind had died down, and even the comforting rush of the Grey River had somehow ceased.
Had he been asleep? If so, he must have slept for hours, for the light was now very different. It wasn’t merely that the sun was setting. An almost ethereal glow hung over the forest, soft, subdued. Calen stared at it in wonder.
Was he dreaming?
“Calen?” There was the voice again.
“W-What? Who’s there?” Calen blinked and looked around in shock. “Who is calling me?” he called out while looking around in all directions.
On the opposite side of the glade a silhouette appeared out of the misty forest. An old man with deep-set, penetrating eyes and silvery hair. He had the face of an angel, full of strength and conviction and despite the obvious years he walked with the ease of a young man. Calen stared at the appearance in awe. He knew this man. But … who?
It hit him with great clarity. “Angus,” he cried. “Angus Stonevale! Is that really you?”
The man did not answer. He didn’t have to, for as he looked at Calen with a kind expression that warmed Calen’s heart, there was no mistake possible. This truly was Angus Stonevale. But how was this possible?
“I thought you were dead, Angus,” Calen whispered in awe. “H-How is this possible?”
“I am very much alive, Calen,” Angus spoke. “More than I ever was. Where I live there’s no death, no pain, and no sorrow, unlike in your worldly atmosphere. But you know these things, for they are all written in the scrolls you carry.”
“Oh, Angus,” Calen cried. “You have no idea how glad I am to see you. I still have the Scrolls, but I almost lost them all.”
A smile played about Angus’ lips. “You are learning, Calen, and you are learning fast. You are learning now not to trust in your own strength. Not because you are weak, but because you were never meant to stand by yourself.”
He placed a hand on Calen’s shoulder, and new strength flowed into Calen’s heart.
“You are no different from any other traveler on this road, and you do not have to pretend otherwise. Let go of self-reliance and place your confidence where it truly belongs, in God. Every trial you face is one that others have faced before you. You are not alone in this. And this you can be sure of; God will not abandon you. He will never allow the burden to crush you beyond what you can bear. When the way grows hard, He will remain with you and make a path through, one step at a time.”
Tears welled up in Calen’s eyes. How grateful he was for these words.
“I failed Marisa,” he sobbed at last. “She has fallen into the cruel hands of the Council of Twelve.”
“I know,” Angus said. “But you must trust that God knows what is happening. Not even a sparrow falls to the ground without our heavenly Father knowing.”
“But they may harm her,” Calen said, his voice almost pleading.
“What did I just say, Calen?” Angus replied, gently squeezing his shoulder. “Whatever happens, God is with her. God’s plan for her is not about to fail. No devil or a thousand of Councils of Twelve can do anything about it.”
“I believe that,” Calen said. “It’s just so hard sometimes to rest in those words. It almost feels wrong to lay down all these worries and act as if there’s nothing to fear.”
Angus nodded. “I understand. But faith is not ‘acting as if.’ When you believe the words of the Father, you do not have to perform belief. You rest in it. You know God’s word is true and He will not fail you. It does not mean, everything unfolds the way you think it should, but you trust that God will not fail you, whether or not you ever receive the answer you seek. You trust like a child, knowing the Father knows best.”
It was still for a moment as Calen took in all he heard from Angus. It was just like the Scrolls said and Marisa had been telling him. Faith, precious faith, more precious than all the gold and silver this world had to offer.
Angus cleared his throat and his face took on a more serious expression. “I came to prepare you for the Bridge of Echoes. It will be much like the things we have just spoken about.”
“W-Why?” Calen stammered.
“There is a reason they call it the Bridge of Echoes,” Angus went on. “When you cross it, the echoes of your own heart will thunder through the abyss, loud and clear.”
“What echoes?”
“The echoes of your guilt. Your failures, your shortcomings, your weaknesses. Anything not quite pure. The echoes will be relentless in their accusations.”
A deep, sinking feeling settled in Calen’s heart. “Then… then I won’t make it,” he stammered. “I am anything but pure. I just told you how I failed God, the Scrolls, and Marisa.”
“But you are washed clean,” Angus said. “The echoes are not the echoes of heaven, but the echoes of your own sinful heart. At the Bridge of Echoes, the voice of the Accuser is especially strong, which is why many who have tried to cross, have failed. Their hearts were not right.”
“And… my heart is right?” Calen asked in a small voice.
“Do you remember your time at the lake in the cave?” Angus said.
Calen blinked. “You know about that?”
“I do,” Angus replied simply. “You are forgiven. Fully, completely, totally. The moment you responded to the grace the Father offered you, the work was done. That has not changed.”
He paused, letting the words settle.
“But like all who still walk in this world, you will hear accusations. You will feel them rise from your old nature. That struggle comes especially to the fore at the Bridge of Echoes.”
Angus’ gaze softened. “That is why I came. To prepare you. The Shepherd Himself asked me to encourage you.”
“I—I’m not sure I can cross that bridge,” Calen murmured, releasing a long, weary breath.
“You can and you will,” Angus said, and a confident smile touched his face. “Remember, you walk by faith and not by sight. And you are never alone. The Shepherd will walk with you. Even as you pass the Bridge of Echoes, His rod and His staff will comfort you.”
Hope and courage surged through Calen’s soul, filling every corner of his being. He reached forward, longing to embrace Angus, but just as he stepped closer, the old man began to fade, as if mist were lifting from the forest floor.
“No!” Calen cried. “Can’t you come with me to the bridge? It’s… it’s so wonderful to talk to you, Angus!”
Even as Angus vanished, his gentle smile lingered in Calen’s heart, and his words seemed to echo from everywhere and nowhere at once:
“Remember, Calen. You are never, ever alone. Trust in the Shepherd. He will not fail you.”
For a long moment, Calen stood frozen, staring into the emptiness. Then came the soft neighing of a horse and a warm nudge against his cheek. He raised his hand to brush it away and froze again, blinking in wonder.
The glade was restored. Sunlight danced through the leaves, birds sang their cheerful songs and the wind whispered through the branches. The Grey River flowed as it always had, vibrant and alive. He was still leaning against the oak, and Hosanna stood nearby, urging him onward.
A dream… a vision… yet somehow more than that. It was truth. The truth he had been seeking. For the first time since his harrowing encounter with Sylvaine Vrax, courage and hope bloomed fully in his heart again. God was with him. God would walk with him. And as he prepared to travel further and cross the Bridge of Echoes, Calen knew deep in his soul that he would not walk alone.
***
The weather was miserable as Marisa rode away from the prison. Rain poured down hard and an icy wind, far colder than usual for this time of year, swept across the plains just outside Bramblebrook. The water stung her face, and she shivered as it soaked through her clothes. Still, her heart was at peace. Joy filled her over how God had kept her safe while in the clutches of Captain Droskar and his deplorable prison. But what was she to do now?
She was being followed, that much was clear. From the moment Droskar’s servants had returned Whisperwind to her, she had sensed the prying eyes of someone lurking in the dark.
It was to be expected. Droskar had released her not out of kindness or mercy, but apparently because God’s hand had forced his plans to fail. She smiled at the thought of his ordeal. In a way, he had been touched by the light, but it had affected him differently. He remained as ruthless and selfish as ever, and only God’s grace had delivered her.
No, as far as Captain Droskar was concerned, he would still seek to cause as much harm as possible.
When she reached the edge of the forest, she steered Whisperwind away from the main path and into the undergrowth. Once she had put a good distance between herself and the road, she dismounted and waited, holding her breath to see if anyone followed.
She did not have long to wait. Minutes later, three heavily armed soldiers appeared. They looked around, clearly confused, and she heard one mutter, “Where did she go? I don’t see her anymore.”
The others exchanged uneasy glances. “She can’t be far,” one said. “And yet,” he continued, the insecurity clear in his voice, “We’re dealing with a witch. Maybe she made herself invisible.”
The third soldier’s eyes grew wide with fear. “Y-You really think so? Then… she could be anywhere.”
His doubts did little to comfort his companions. They looked lost and helpless, like children sent on a mission far too large for them.
Marisa chuckled quietly as she beheld the worried fiends. If only they would yield to the God of the Scrolls, He would help them too. While God did not busy Himself with cheap tricks, He certainly knew how to deliver the godly from temptation. His grace would welcome them too, but their minds were clouded by the lies of the Council of Twelve.
The soldiers scanned the forest as if hordes of monsters would leap from the shadows.
“Let’s go back to Bramblebrook,” one said at last, his voice quivering.
“But… our mission?” mumbled the second.
“The mission can manage without us,” the third added. “I say, let’s go back to Bramblebrook.”
“And Captain Droskar and our orders?”
“What about them,” the third scoffed. “If you don’t tell, I won’t either. Let Droskar handle his own affairs. I don’t want to tangle with a witch like that. I heard the captain’s boils were as big as turkey eggs.”
“Sounds good to me,” the first agreed. “A mug of Ogre Ale at the Crooked Lantern sounds much better than chasing an invisible witch through the woods. Let’s just get our stories straight.”
“Good thinking,” said the second. “We’ll tell Droskar we searched all day, but she just vanished.”
At those words, they turned their horses and galloped back toward Bramblebrook as fast as they could.
Marisa had been listening in amazement. Once they were gone, she exhaled a sigh of relief. What a wonderful God she had, who delivered out of all their distresses!
She waited a moment before stepping back onto the path, letting the deep silence of the forest steady her nerves.
But what now? Where would she go? Back home? Not an option. Above all, she needed to protect the Scrolls. What had happened to them and to Calen? There was only one place she could go. Isola’s house. Dangerous, yes, for the enemy knew of it. But the Scrolls were there and the three soldiers had fled. She could not delay.
What she would do with the Scrolls once she arrived, she did not yet know. It did not matter. God would show her the way. For now, with her pursuers gone, the path was clear.
There was no time to lose. She mounted Whisperwind and set out once more for Isola and Tobin’s house.
____