The golden sword swayed back and forth… its tip stuck in the rock… on the summit of Mt. Morr… No
For centuries the dark hordes had raided the first six Empires of Morr and pillaged it. Many Morrans had been taken captive and were now slaves for the hordes… building fortresses and strengthening the awe of the hordes.
The Hordes had laid siege against Morr for over a decade and there was no telling what would become of earth once the Hordes took over Morr… maybe a cataclysm… maybe Armageddon… maybe the skies would turn red and the sun would bleed… No one knew for certain… but there was a prophecy that a messiah would be born… and he would defeat the hordes
The prophecy was supposed to be fulfilled exactly 29 years, 11 months and 28 days ago… but there was no sign that a special baby had been born neither was there any gossip about a hero in distant lands. Earth hath lost hope and the valiant men of Morr had gathered at the foot of the Mountain ready for battle… they had resigned their fate to fight to their death… with or without a Messiah
Kimka, the crown Prince of Morr, had peaked Mt. Morr several times in his quest to find the Messiah… at some point he felt he was the messiah. On several occasions he had attempted to retrieve the sword but failed every time. Legend had it that once the Messiah touched the sword’s hilt, the wings of the golden eagle on the sword’s handle would envelope his hand like gloves… it would remain that way until the last of the hordes was slain…
Kimka saw the approaching dark clouds and his rage soared… He attempted to retrieve the sword again but ended up screaming in frustration…
“Why are you screaming?” a familiar voice asked calmly… Kimka wheeled around, his sword out of its scabbard in a flash… eyes raging… blood racing… no one ventured up this mountain… at least not Morrans… Morrans revered it because of the golden sword that was stuck on the summit…
Kimka was surprised to see the wood-worker’s son…
“How did you get up here?” Kimka puzzled… looking round to see if there were others… The wood-worker’s son was not a warrior and as far as everyone knew he was a wood-worker too… he didn’t look like the type to go mountain climbing… especially not Mt. Morr… His name was Yeshua, right? Yeah it was…
“The same way you did?” Yeshua responded as he walked towards the rock with the golden sword.
“What are you doing up here?” Kimka stood in Yehsua’s way
“I’ve come to take what is mine… you?” Yeshua sidestepped Kimka
“And what is yours?” Kimka followed Yeshua
Yeshua hopped on the rock and held the hilt of the sword… suddenly, the wings of the eagle, wrapped themselves around his hand and he pulled the sword out of the rock with ease… immediately the sword slid out, the skies opened and a colossal band of light struck Yeshua from above…
Right before Kimka, Yehsua’s appearance was transmuted from drab to glorious… the wood-worker’s robe gave way to golden armour and his appearance was like that of a god… unknown to Kimka the messiah was God…
Kimka’s feet couldn’t carry him anymore… all this time… he had walked past the messiah, looked down on him, scorned him and even bullied him once in a while without realizing who he was… no one had respect for the wood-worker’s son… Kimka fell on his knees in awe… muttering - “all this time…all this time”
“There is a time for everything” Yeshua replied “a time to be born… a time to die… a time to prepare for a battle… and a time to fight the battle”
Kimka raised his face and stared at the glorious being standing in front of him…
“No matter what your mission on earth is… if you are not ready… you will not be activated… I’ve spent the last 30 years getting ready for this day” Yeshua continued “Come… It’s time”
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