Saturday Morning - 3:30am 12/20/86 HQ

After stoking the fire, Caleb joins Jacob on the carpet.

The crackling of the flame and the steady moan of the wind outside weaves a sacred drone. The night gives way to clarity.

“Jacob Malachi Laberman. Tyrian Meer. Marustade. Child of my heart...”

He tries to move closer to the elderly couple sitting on a bench before him. The woman...Bubbe!

“Sylvia sits embraced in the light of Sanctity. Here she is safe at home in my garden, listening to the song of her Tribe. Alive in the grace of her God, warmed by the grace of yours.”

Baruch atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech ha’olam, she-asah nisim la’avoteinu bayamim hahem bazman hazeh.

“She waits in prayer for the coming of Saul, her beloved.”

Jacobs throat is dry. He manages a simple sentence.

“Where is my Zayde that she must wait?”

“Saul is imprisoned in the darkness of the Otherwyrld. I have sent three warriors into Arwic’s dominion to find and deliver him here. Add your prayers to your grandmother’s for their success.”

Jacob barely manages a single word.


Caleb’s voice brings Jacob back to the twilight glow and morning chill of the HQ.

“Seva Koresad, Surin Sthah...”

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