Tuesday, January 27, 2009

"What is the matter, James?" Bernard asked. His voice was soft yet sultry, strictness falling off every word.
James stood in the dark monastery, surrounded by candles that led up before him to a door seemingly made from bronze. Bernard stood behind him now. He had been here alone, hesitating and lost, but content to be left alone. This man was not welcome during his final moments.
"James," Bernard rumbled in a low voice. "Why are you waiting?"
With a sigh of irritation for the man James replied to him, "Where will I go?"
"I have told you young man. You will go where you are most needed." Bernard's tone hinted at having said this on a number of occasions before. "Have you not spent your childhood in preparation for this, James? What holds you from it now? You have the knowledge! You have the practice! Though I say you do not, Megolas says you are ready, and I cannot hold to my own words any longer. Though I advised against it, here you stand, and so I will be proved wrong. Now, go lest you cave to your cowardice and make my previous arguments right before Megolas." The words were scathing and heartless, though James had come to expect this from the man. A teacher and a mentor of the young, the man was said to have done his duty as well, though James could hardly believe it.
Bernard spoke again, startling James at how close he had gotten without his noticing. "The ministry has claimed you, God has chosen you, and I have trained you. Now, you mustn't dispair over your calling, it is what you were born to do. Go and do so with God." The words were somehow soft, in complete contradiction to everything James knew of the man. He glanced sideways at him and saw the man's cowl was drawn up over his head and his face was well hidden. James actually wondered for a moment if maybe this wasn't Bernard, but, as though reading his thoughts, the man pulled back his hood and met his eyes with a fierce gaze. "I too was fearful, but it will pass."
James was so stunned that he was speechless. His features must have shown it because Bernard smiled at him, as though amused. "I have let down my guard because you will probably never see me again, nor be able to tell the other students of my kindness. Truly, this is likely the last time you will ever see me or anyone you have ever known." Bernard's smile faded and the man's eyes showed a profound sadness. "Before you go," He began, his eyes searching James's. "You should know that I have always loved you as a son."
For what seemed a long while, James only stared. Startlement mixed with disbelief mixed again with a welling up of emotion rushed through him. Then he found his voice. "Thank you Bernard. I am honored to think of you as my father." In truth, Bernard was the closest he had ever had to a father, though he had been a strict and difficult father at that.
"Go with God, my son. My prayers are, have been, and will be for your safety and success. May you find happiness in your new life as I have found in mine." He placed a solid and reassuring hand on James' shoulder. "Perhaps you will leave me a message or you will find mine someday."
After a moment studying each other for the last time, Bernard pulled him into an embrace. James felt the full weight of his attachment to the man in that span of a few short seconds. And then, Bernard patted him on the back and stepped back. James nodded and turned for the door.
"Do not forget, my son," Bernard called after him, "that iron sharpens iron. Find others when you have found your new place. They will aide you. And friendhsip is something to be highly valued in life."
"I will," James replied, and then added, "father." He felt Bernard's smile on his back as he took hold of the door and went through.