Previously on Hidden Fragments…
Calen finally discovered the missing Scrolls of Genesis and Revelation, completing the collection he had risked everything to find. After a miraculous journey through the storm, he returned safely to Magdalena and Alaric, but danger was growing as the Council of Twelve prepared to unveil their terrifying image in Ömstead.
Meanwhile, Marisa and Ronan traveled toward Elior’s hidden sanctuary. But before reaching the hermit, Ronan had to face his deepest fears at the Bridge of Echoes, where the voices of his past returned to condemn him. Through Marisa’s faith and prayer, he found freedom from fear and crossed the bridge safely.
On the other side, they finally met the mysterious hermit they had been searching for… Elior.
Chapter 50
Back at the treehouse
Elior… there he was.
The old man stood quietly beneath the trees while the wind sighed through the deep ravine behind Marisa.
There was nothing remarkable about him. His tunic was plain, his sandals worn from years of use, his gray hair hung loosely about his face.
Yet as Marisa gazed into his eyes, a deep sense of peace rose within her.
This was the man she and Calen had searched for all this time. And somehow, seeing him at last, she understood why.
Without hesitation, she dismounted Whisperwind and approached Elior with reverence, her head bowed.
“What an honor it is to meet you,” she said softly, keeping her eyes lowered. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
Elior rested a hand upon her shoulder and replied calmly, “No, Marisa. It is I who am honored to meet you. You and Ronan are the true soldiers of the Kingdom. I just sit hidden away in my little haven of safety amidst a world filled with suffering and unrest.”
“B-but you’re the hermit,” Marisa said. “God’s anointed one.”
Elior’s hand remained on her shoulder as he shook his head gently.
“We are all the same, Marisa. All have sinned and fallen short. Yet God has given each of us the same Spirit of love, faith and peace.”
Marisa looked up. “How do you know our names?”
He smiled. “Because God has given us not only the Spirit of peace and faith, but also the Spirit of revelation. God told me you were coming.”
Elior withdrew his hand and looked up at Ronan, nodding warmly.
“Welcome too, Ronan. There is a place for you as well in the heart of the God of the Scrolls. If you still doubt that, the proof is quite obvious. After all, you crossed the Bridge of Echoes without trouble.” A grin spread across his face. “And that is not something that is granted to everyone.”
Ronan attempted a laugh, but it came out awkwardly. He shifted uneasily in the saddle.
Marisa understood. The encounter must feel strange to the hardened soldier, who had only recently come to know God.
She turned back to Elior. “And Calen?” she asked, unable to hide the tension in her voice. “Did he reach you safely? Did he bring you the Scrolls? And… is he here as well?”
Her words streamed out. They escaped her before she realized it, and a blush rose to her cheeks.
Was she being too forward? To her relief, Elior’s kind smile remained.
“Yes,” he said. “Calen was here. He delivered the Scrolls safely into my care.”
He was?” Marisa asked. Her heart sank. “Then… he’s gone?”
But Elior seemed to read her mind. “He is not here. He still had another mission to complete. He traveled to Ömstead in search of the remaining Scrolls that were missing.”
“To Ömstead?” She recalled how Calen had mentioned the town. Blind Asher had told him he could find the Scroll of Genesis there. “Alone?”
Elior gave her a nod.
Fear knocked on Marisa’s heart. “Will he be all right?”
A smile escaped Elior’s weathered face. “God is good. He showed me it would be a dangerous journey, though I did not tell Calen that. I prayed for him fervently.”
Silence settled for a moment.
Of course he had gone there. Collecting the Scrolls had been Calen’s mission from the beginning. Yet, she had much preferred to go there with him to find the last missing Scrolls.
The Scrolls?
They too carried a Scroll; the very reason she and Ronan had come here. She cleared her throat and said, “Ronan found a Scroll as well. The Scroll of Jude.”
Elior’s eyes lit up. “That is wonderful news. It means the mission is nearly complete,” he said almost solemnly. Then he added, “Provided of course, Calen found the last missing Scrolls. And then, the great work can begin.”
Marisa frowned. “W-what do you mean?”
Elior looked at her.
For a moment she felt as though the hermit could see straight through her. Comforting… and yet slightly unsettling at the same time.
“We are going to flood this land with the Word of God,” he said, a spark shining in his eyes.
“Really?” Marisa’s eyes grew wide. “H-how do you mean?”
“We will talk about it,” he said. “At my home, while we eat some hearty Sable wolf Jerky and drink some tea.” His voice almost sounded like a song, soft and melodious. “The Word of God is meant for everyone; farmers, bakers and laborers. Children and soldiers… and even for the Council of Twelve. And Calen will help make that possible.”
He smiled.
“And Calen has to do all that?” Marisa stared at him in disbelief.
Elior laughed softly. “Not Calen alone. God never intended that.”
He looked directly at her. “He’ll need people like you.”
“Like me?” Marisa replied and it began to dazzle her. “How?”
“As I said, we will talk about it in my tree hut. But actually… you can ask Calen yourself,” Elior continued.
The moment she heard Calen’s name spoken like that, her heart made a small jump and a warm longing rose. She stared at the hermit with questioning eyes. “Will I be able to talk to him soon?”
Elior nodded and his smile widened. “In fact, he’s arriving right now.”
“What?” Marisa and Ronan exclaimed together.
“See for yourselves,” Elior said. He gave her a toothy grin while pointing once more toward the Bridge of Echoes. “God is faithful. Everything He says comes to pass.”
Marisa turned and stared toward the bridge.
Then she saw him.
A rider stood on the far side of the ravine. A simple young man upon a brown horse she knew so well. He wore clothes that were slightly too large for him.
But that smile…
That wonderful, warm, irresistible smile. She would have recognized it among thousands.
Her heart cracked open. All the doubts she had carried these past days, all her worries about her feelings for that young scribe melted away like snow beneath the sun. There was the young man who had found faith in God and traveled across the land with her on that dangerous mission of hope… There was her friend. Or was he more than a friend?
She spun around and raced toward the Bridge of Echoes, shouting at the top of her lungs. “Calen! You’re safe! Oh, Calen!”
He shouted back. He had recognized her.
After having waved at her wildly, he guided Hosanna carefully onto the swaying bridge.
For a moment Marisa considered running out onto the bridge toward him, but when she saw how violently it shook beneath Calen and Hosanna, she realized she would have to wait.
Thankfully, not for long.
Less than a minute later, Calen stepped onto solid ground and climbed down from Hosanna.
His eyes sparkled and he opened his arms as wide as the gates of heaven. Marisa ran straight into them. She did not care what the others would think.
Calen was safe.
They were together again.
Oh, thank You, Lord. You are so very good.
She rested her head against his chest. He smelled fresh, like someone who came from the sea.
“Marisa…” he whispered. He pulled back just far enough to look at her face. “I thought I might never see you again.”
Tears filled her eyes.
“So did I.”
For a moment neither of them seemed able to find any other words. It didn’t matter. Instead, his arms wrapped firmly around her. She wished the moment would never end.
It felt so safe. So familiar. And yet she had never stood in his embrace before.
Had Elior not cleared his throat, they might have remained locked there for hours. But the hermit clearly had other plans.
“Come now, you two,” he said, good-naturedly. “Let’s head to my treehouse. We have much to discuss, and very little time.”
“Hello, Elior,” Calen said as he looked at the hermit. “I bring your four Scrolls… One of them is Genesis, but the other one is that special one… the one you told me about. The Scroll of Revelation.”
For a moment, Elior seemed perplexed. His eyebrows went up, then down again and his hand went up to his mouth. “You found… the Scroll of Revelation? God be praised. Then we have all 66 books of the Bible.”
He lowered his eyes. For a moment he seemed older than before.
“The end,” he murmured. “We’ve gathered all the Scrolls.” His gaze drifted toward the distant horizon. “That means… my mission is almost accomplished.”
***
Calen was the first to climb up after Elior to the treehouse.
As he moved up the wooden, spiraling staircase and felt the soft wind caressing his face, an almost overwhelming sense of gratitude washed over him. This felt like a true homecoming. The calm atmosphere, the scent of fresh wood and the magnificent view of the sun-covered fields made him stop in his tracks. Far in the distance, the towers of Ömstead rose against the horizon. Ömstead, where he had left precious friends behind.
A longing for their happiness rose.
For everyone’s happiness. Why was this world sometimes so dark?
Tears had never come easily. Yet ever since he had come to know God, feelings he had kept locked away for years suddenly creaked and stirred to life and more than once he had discovered, he could no longer keep the stirrings of his heart under control.
Now the next battle was about to begin. Had Elior not told him he was to copy Scroll after Scroll so they could flood the land with the words of God?
But how?
He paused for a moment as he heard the others climbing up behind him and pushed the thoughts aside as he stepped inside Elior’s dwelling. Right now, it was time to treasure this moment of victory. Today he would be sitting here once more, safe in the treehouse and reunited with Marisa. If only it could always be like this.
One day it could. The Scrolls promised as much. Especially the final Scroll, called Revelation.
God Himself shall be with them, and He shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away.
That was what he and Marisa were working for. Together with all the other precious children of God. Elior and Angus. Blind Asher, Isola… Alaric. Too many to name in a single breath. Friends he had made along the way. All journeying toward the eternal Kingdom of God and His Son who had died upon a cross.
Behind him he heard Ronan exclaim, “What a view. This is lovely.”
Ronan…
It had been a surprise to see Ronan again.
At first, after he had been reunited with Marisa again, Calen had hardly recognized him.
Back then, when he had to run from Slink and rescued the soldier from certain death, Ronan’s face had looked entirely different. Terror had consumed him as he dangled above the abyss between life and death. The cruelty of the Council of Twelve had been carved deeply into his features. Not anymore.
Although his face still bore the marks of a life that at one point had been far removed from the love of God, now his eyes carried a warmth and gentleness that made it difficult to imagine he had ever served under men like Slink, Droskar or Captain Drenick.
As Calen settled into one of Elior’s chairs, he felt truly at home for the first time in a very long while.
The thought rose that maybe he and Marisa could stay here forever. Perhaps he could build a small cottage beside the stream where he had received the Spirit of God. Perhaps Marisa could bring some of Grandfather’s goats here…
The thought made him smile. But he discarded it. Elior probably had little interest in seeing his peaceful refuge transformed into a goat farm.
Marisa entered the treehouse as well. She was out of breath but was gazing around in wonder.
“It’s beautiful here,” she mumbled with labored breath and dropped into a chair beside him.
“Raspberry tea?” Elior asked, apparently not wanting to comment on the beauty of his place.
“Gladly,” Calen replied, remembering just how good it had tasted before. Marisa nodded and Ronan just gave Elior a blank stare.
“It relaxes you,” Elior said, “Good for pregnancy too, and…” he stopped and shook his head. “That may not be relevant for the moment.” He grinned and set to work.
Before long, all four of them sat with steaming mugs before them.
For a time, nobody spoke. Only the cheerful songs of birds among the branches, the rustling of leaves, and Ronan’s somewhat enthusiastic slurping disturbed the silence.
Marisa shot him a disapproving look.
Ronan remained completely unaware and licked his lips contentedly. Calen smiled. At least the once so hardened soldier liked it almost as much as Ogre Ale.
At last, Elior spoke.
“Our paths divide here.”
The seriousness in his voice immediately silenced the room.
“W-what do you mean?” Calen asked. “We’ve only just arrived. You hardly even know Marisa and Ronan.”
“Things will change now, Young Pilgrim.”
Calen realized how foolish his daydreams had been. Elior clearly had other plans.
“Now that the first part of the mission has been completed, the next part will begin,” the hermit said. He turned to Calen. “Now your true work begins, Young Pilgrim.”
Calen nodded slowly.
“You mean, I must begin gathering a team to copy and publish the Scrolls, right?”
Elior nodded and turned toward Marisa and Ronan.
“This is the purpose,” he said gravely. “Calen will lead a faithful company of scribes.”
Marisa frowned. “Scribes?”
Elior nodded. “The Scrolls were never meant to remain hidden. They must be copied. Again, and again. Citizens and laborers, soldiers and children… everyone must have access to the words of God.”
Marisa clearly struggled to understand. “A faithful company of scribes? Who are they?”
Elior leaned back and took a sip of raspberry tea to clear his throat. “God knows who is able to be a scribe to help Calen. And the two of you…,” he paused and cast Marisa and Ronan a long and thoughtful stare, “… you two will help Calen. While neither of you are scribes, I believe you will play an important role in Calen’s mission.”
A weary smile appeared on Elior’s face.
Suddenly he looked very old.
And very tired.
“I’ve lived a long time,” Elior said. “I’ve seen much sorrow, and especially the rise of the Council of Twelve. But all that will change. God has brought you all this far. Do you think He will abandon you now, even for a moment?”
Nobody answered, but Calen knew they all agreed.
“I will help,” Ronan grunted. “Absolutely. Where Calen goes, I go.”
Marisa nodded and Calen felt her hand slip into his.
He cleared his throat. “May I ask something?”
Elior looked at him expectantly.
“Could we stay here?” Calen asked. “I could build a little cottage near the stream and copy the Scrolls from there. It’s peaceful here. Perfectly safe and an inspiring place to work. We’ve got all the Scrolls here so I could begin tomorrow.”
Elior shook his head.
“No, Calen. That will not do. This place has served its purpose. For now, the Bridge of Echoes still stands as an obstacle to the enemies of God. But soon this place will no longer be safe. You must take the Scrolls away from here and leave before it is too late.”
“What do you mean?” Calen asked in alarm. “We came here because the Scrolls are safe here. And now you’re telling us to carry them away again? That doesn’t make sense.”
Again, Elior shook his head. “You do not understand. Now that the Scrolls have all been collected, things are about to really change. Dark clouds gather on the horizon. There will be a season of terrible persecution. But only for a season as through these Scrolls everything will eventually change.”
Calen did not like what he heard. A bitter taste welled up, but he knew Elior was right. He bit his lower lip and said, “Surely, you will come with us then. We need your guidance and instructions.”
“No, Calen,” Elior said. “I will not be here anymore.”
A chill crawled up Calen’s spine. That was ridiculous. “What?” Calen stared. “Where are you going?”
For a moment Elior was silent. Then his eyes began to shine.
“In Ömstead they are building a terrible idol. An image of the Council of Twelve. It is my mission to do something about it.”
Calen sat upright. “That’s true. I know all about it. It’s dreadful. But what can you do?”
“God knows,” Elior replied. “With man it’s impossible, but with God all things are possible.”
A new silence fell over the room. To Calen it felt dreadful.
“Don’t do it,” Marisa whispered at last. “They’ll kill you.”
“Or at best, throw you in prison,” Ronan added. “Take my word for it. I know these people. It’s pointless.”
“Pointless?” Elior’s eyes locked onto Ronan’s. “When God tells us to do something, it is never pointless. Obedience is better than sacrifice.”
“Then I’ll come with you,” Calen said, clenching his fists and he rose from his seat. “We can’t let the Council kill you.”
He looked at Marisa. “Right, Marisa. We can’t let that happen, right?”
Marisa thought long and hard. At last, she said slowly, “It’s not up to us to decide what needs to happen, Calen. If we only obey when everything makes sense to us, then we’re not really trusting God at all.”
There was Marisa again. Always straight to the point and full of faith. Calen wished he had not said anything.
But Ronan didn’t agree.
“I’m with you, Calen. We won’t allow it.” He rested a hand upon the hilt of his sword. “My sword for the Kingdom of God.”
Elior raised a hand. “Thank you for your enthusiasm,” he said. “But God’s Kingdom is not advanced by the sword. You must trust God, not your own strength.”
He looked directly at Calen and his face emanated a strange glow that made Calen look to the floor.
“Ömstead is my mission,” the hermit said. “I must fulfill it, and I must fulfill it alone.”
Then he pointed a finger at him. The conviction on Calen’s heart grew thick and heavy.
“Your mission is to preserve and copy the Scrolls. What happens to me in Ömstead is not your concern. You have your mission. I have mine.”
Slowly Calen sank back into his chair.
Elior was the hermit. The prophet, if you wished. He, Calen, wasn’t. He needed to keep his mouth shut. This was God’s will for the hermit. And God’s will for him was to continue the work of the Scrolls.
Yet one question still troubled him. He pressed his lips together. “May I ask one final question?”
“Of course.”
“The Scrolls,” Calen said. “It was incredibly dangerous to bring them here. Now we have all sixty-six. And you’re telling us we must travel again on the same dangerous roads with such a costly treasure as the Word of God? There will be crooks like Slink, Droskar and Drenick everywhere.”
“Do not be afraid,” Elior replied. “Everything rests in God’s hands. God has shown me that the image of the Council of Twelve will be unveiled tomorrow. Every important person in the kingdom is expected to attend. Soldiers, captains, nobles, everyone. The roads will be empty. You will be able to travel safely. But only tomorrow.”
“But where are we supposed to go?” Calen asked.
It was silent again for some time and Calen cast Elior a helpless glance.
“God will show you the way, Calen,” the hermit stated as if it was more than obvious.
Yet, Calen wasn’t so sure.
Then Marisa moved.
“Calen?” she said.
“Yes?”
“Remember the enchanted lake… the caves in the forest near our farm?”
“Of course,” Calen said. How could he forget that place?
“The Council doesn’t know it. It’s safe.”
“How do you know?”
“Vorren said so,” Marisa replied. He has been there as well. There is a vast network of tunnels and hidden chambers. We can hide the Scrolls there. We don’t have to live there, but we can work down there in safety.”
“Who is Vorren?” Calen asked.
“He’s a good man. A soldier, searching for God,” Marisa said.
“And you trust a soldier of the Council of Twelve?” Calen didn’t like the way this conversation was going.
“He’s okay,” Ronan butted in.
Calen rubbed his forehead and let out a frustrated sigh. “We are talking about all the Scrolls of God. That’s not a light matter.”
“Trust us, Calen. There’s much I still need to tell you, but I believe the caves may be the solution.” She turned to the hermit. “What do you think, Elior?”
Elior’s face brightened. “I think it is a great idea. In fact, it is precisely what God already showed me, Marisa. Everything is in His hands. Things will be just fine as long as we follow Him.”
Marisa turned back to Calen. “What better place for the Scrolls than those special caves? They can’t stay here. Elior said this place will no longer be safe.”
Calen nodded. The idea of going back to that enchanted lake appealed to him, now that he thought about it. “Great, Marisa. Then to the caves we shall go.”
After these words Elior rose from his chair.
“Now I must prepare for what tomorrow will bring. And so must you, for we will all depart at dawn.”
He looked at each of them in turn. “I will go to Ömstead… and you three to the caves.”
Calen sighed.
His mind reeled after everything he had heard.
Little remained of the heavenly peace he had felt when he first entered the treehouse. The thought that this beautiful refuge would soon be touched by darkness, saddened him. Something in him rebelled against the idea, but he knew it was useless.
Elior was right and he needed to do what was right and obey. He looked at Marisa. Tomorrow the road would begin again. The battle was far from over.
Yet Marisa’s hand was still in his, and God was still upon His throne.