

A

Journey

Of

Sacrifice

It is beginning

Denis Tutaka
Copyright © 2020 Denis Tutaka

All rights reserved.

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is not intended by the author to hurt or offend anyone.

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

DEDICATION

This book is dedicated to the many doctors, nurses, health-workers, chaplains and frontline workers who sacrificed their lives in the fight against the Covid19 pandemic that threatened the world in AD2020. Heartfelt condolences go out to the hundreds of thousands who lost their lives and comfort to the families affected by their deaths. May this book bring comfort to all with the knowledge that their loved ones are at peace.
CONTENTS

Acknowledgments

Prologue

Chapter 1 It is beginning

Chapter 2 The chosen one

Chapter 3 The messenger

Chapter 4 Jerusalem, a changing city

Chapter 5 A natural attempt

Chapter 6 The proposal

Chapter 7 Witness

Chapter 8 Voices revealed

Chapter 9 The Prince is coming

Chapter 10 Houseguests

Chapter 11 Hospitality

Chapter 12 Unwanted arrival

Chapter 13 Sacrifice

Chapter 14 Birth of a child

Chapter 15 An escape

Chapter 16 A new journey ahead
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I would like to acknowledge and thank the many supporters; to Elise Westcott, Mereana Iobu, Fuimaono Tuiasau, Br Lewis Harwood and Bruce Shirley in the production and editing of this book. I would also like to acknowledge and thank Lynette Hay, the owner of the sunset and moon pictures used for the cover-page. Lastly, I would like to extend my thanks to the many family members and friends who read and shared suggestions.
PROLOGUE

In 31BC, the Roman Empire expanded its boundaries from its epicentre, Rome, westward towards Spain and eastward to take over Israel's three main territories of Galilee up north, Samaria in the middle, and Judea down south. Underneath the Roman rule, these three Jewish cities became amalgamated into one known as the Israeli Province, the centre being Jerusalem, in Judea.

Not long after occupying Israel, to maintain order amongst the Jewish people, the Emperor appointed King Herod as King of Israel. He was a man of calibre, a former General of the Roman army, a Roman citizen but of half Roman and half Jewish heritage. Herod was known for his architectural skills. While renovating the Jewish temple, Herod discovered a hidden manuscript which stated that in the year AD1, a male sorcerer would be born. He would revolutionise people's lives, not just for the Jews but for the rest of the world. He would destroy any Empire if he was not stopped and killed. The manuscript also incited that whoever executed or whoever saved the sorcerer, must heed the consequences or rewards.

King Herod was left brokenhearted when his wife was executed, causing instability in his household. He decided to divide his kingdom into two, Galilee in the north and Judea, which included Samaria, in the south. To his younger son, Antipas, he formed and gave the Kingdom of Galilee. To his eldest, Philip, Judea and Samaria; these two cities under one Kingdom of Judea. King Herod died a year later, leaving his eldest son as King of Judea. Unrest started in the Galilean kingdom when Prince Antipas wasn't crowned King until after the coronation of his brother Philip. This directive was sanctioned by the late King Herod and was to be followed through, by the High Priest, Boethius. Roman authorities in Judea dared not to intervene unless necessary.

Philip and Antipas, both in their early 20's, knew of the manuscript and its content. One of them will try to save the boy while the other will try to kill him. The sorcerer is a 15-year-old boy named Yeshua, who believes he is just an ordinary Jew.

Yeshua has struggled with his gifts due to bullying and resentment from other children. It caused him to spiral into an identity confusion. His parents, Mary and Joseph, the most common names of couples in Israel, have known about their son's special gifts since his conception. Yeshua has two older brothers who moved out of home a year ago and have their own families.

This year is special for Yeshua, because it is the first time, he is leading the family Passover sacrifice and meal celebration. His family is heading to Jerusalem for the Passover and is unaware that awaiting them is a chain of events that will determine whether Yeshua lives, whether they all live and whether the whole world survive.
CHAPTER 1: It is beginning

YESHUA

The blood of the lamb, poured from a golden cup, fills the white marble altar, streaming slowly down the beautiful centrepiece. Thick and crimson, the blood constantly splattering from the outpouring of the sacrificial cups. The sight is awful. In the background, a Kohen \- Jewish priest, recites ancient prayers, people chatter and laugh, year-old lambs and goats brought in by adult males of Jewish households produce high-pitched bleats. The sacrificial animals submit with little to no resistance, sensing they serve a higher purpose. They are led into the inner temple courtyard, met by the Kohen at the bottom of the steps leading up to a skyrise tower. The tower is the Holy of Holies, believed to be the holiest place on earth, only accessed by a High Priest.

Structure and order at the Temple are everything. No one other than a Kohen is permitted inside the inner Temple court. The furthest a Jewish male can go is to the bottom of the steps leading up to the doorway to the inner court. Jewish society is patrilineal here, dominated by male roles. No one else, not even women, children or the sick are allowed at the steps. Sometimes, fathers will send their sons to line up in the queue for the sacrifice, for fear their misdemeanors, misconducts and sins may desecrate the sacred Temple.

In the eastern section, the outer courtyard, is used as a marketplace to sell meat, sacrificial animals, souvenirs and gifts. Only Jews are permitted here. Non-Jews cannot enter the Temple.

At the base of the steps leading to the doorway to the inner court, a Kohen takes our lamb. In the queue to my right, is my friend Simon with his Dad and their sacrificial lamb. I give him a chin-up gesture to show him that I see him and he responds similarly and smiles back. His father is a fisherman whom I've always been afraid of because he has a face of thunder.

I received my Bar Mitzvah three years ago and Simon is five years older, though he acts my age. There are seven different rows of Kohen lined up to the entrance of the inner court, like a conveyor belt leading up the white cobblestone steps. At the top of the steps is the colossal access, where the seven lines of Kohen merge into a single line, leading through the door directly to the altar. The number 7 represents completion, which symbolises the end of creation on the 7th Day.

The altar is located inside the inner Temple court, between the entrance of the Holy of Holies and the entrance from the cobblestone steps. It is a cubical structure that is six by six by six feet. The number 6 represents the number of a human being as according to the Torah, the Jewish scriptures, God created humans on the 6th Day. Symbolism and meaning are engrained in the essence of this complex. While we have our conveyor belt of Kohen, Simon and his father have theirs too. About 70 steps gradually ascend, giving a lifting effect to the scenery behind.

Each Kohen is dressed in a white robe and on their head is the most outrageous white hat, with the top rising to about one foot and bulging. Over their robes, they wear another garment that only covers the front part from their chest to their knees, presumably to protect their white dress like a butcher's apron.

Three Kohens are at the bottom of the steps. Each have a role. The first one holds a dagger whose duty is to slaughter the animals, giving a clean cut through their throat. The knife handle is adorned with gold and jewellery. At the end of the day, the dagger is given careful cleaning and treatment, to rid it of the hardened blood, ready for next year's Passover. The second holds a golden cup. The cup is made of gold and is simple with no decorations. The bottom is rounded and is intentional in its design; to stop blood from hardening. This cup is special as when it is filled with blood, it is not intended to touch any surface other than priestly hands. Blood holds the ruah or the spiritual life force and therefore, it symbolises the significance of life in this world. The third is the keeper of cups. He passes on new and clean ones to the second Kohen. The seven lines of Kohens pass their cup filled with blood from one to another, transporting the blood, the life force with sacredness, respect and care.

"My Son!" I hear a voice as soft as a rumble of thunder in the distance. I wonder if it is real.

"You are my Son!" My heart starts to pound hysterically as I begin to search the skies for the voices' owner.

'Is it real?' I wonder.

I'm not new to this voice thing, though. I always hear voices in my head. Sometimes I wonder if I am crazy. The soft thundery voice is more comforting than the sharp shrieking high pitched one which I also hear. I call it the dark voice because that one usually happens at night or when I am upset. Today is different. I haven't heard the dark voice as if it has been silenced somehow. When it does come, it arrives like a storm of never-ending questions. It makes me query my life and purpose. I can become overwhelmed by the never-ending questions it asks and develop a depressive feeling of unworthiness and hopelessness.

"Who do you think you are?" The questions would start. This voice is not a pleasant sound. It is equivalent to that of a hungry crow attacking its prey. It is quick.

"Do you not think you're strange?" The sound of the sentence is trembling to my bones as my body crouches and freezes in its position, trying to shake away the voice.

"Where do you think you're from?"

"What is your purpose?"

"What is the meaning of your life?"

An internal feeling of neglect comes alive within me. It becomes easier to forget about my bodily needs. I lose my sense of hunger, thirst, laughter, anger and even my sexual desires.

"Do you think you're special?"

"What makes you different from others?"

Mum would occasionally find me crouching next to something, anything, whether it be a wall, a huge rock, or a tree, to seek protection from this darkness, as I try desperately to rid myself of the voice. It is like standing inside a dark tomb with death all around. The only hope is a glimpse of light that penetrates through the cracks of the stone frame entrance. My mother is that glimpse of hope. With her, I know that eventually, everything will be alright.

"My Son!" The soothing, gentle, thundery voice returns.

"Shalom!" I am taken aback by my response as I stand to stare up at the citadels of the temple building, straight into the skies above.

"Shalom!" This time I utter this word louder and with a firm voice hoping that I will get a response.

"My Son!" I hear the voice replying to me but this one sounds familiar.

"Son! Wake up! We need to start packing up now." I cannot believe that it has just been a dream. I slowly wake up to see my Dad staring straight at me. He looks urgent, as always and not as confused as the look I must have on my face.

"Where's Mum, Dad?"

"Get up, Yeshua and start packing!" Is he ignoring my question? Dad is always like this when he's freaking out.

I sit up, shaking my head to try and wake myself up.

'What a horrible dream,' I wonder.

My dad is crazily rolling up our bed-mats and putting things away in wooden crates to be taken to the camels. We are still on our journey to Jerusalem for the Passover celebration and this is the last day of our three-day trip. We are at the Samaritan border that splits down west to the coastline and east through the Samaritan city. 'What's the rush? It's only morning and I haven't had breakfast yet.' I wonder. Today is the last walk and it's an 8-hour journey. I still cannot understand the rush.

"Yeshua. You need to hurry up!" The urgency in Dad's voice is grave this time. I haven't heard him like this before.

"We need to get out of here before the sandstorm reaches us." Finally, he gives me the information I need, convincing me to get out of bed. Why are parents always like this; rushing their children around without giving a decent explanation? I cannot understand parents sometimes.

A sandstorm is a painful experience. When the fine dust reaches your eyes and lungs, the burning feeling is indescribable. You cannot see where you are going or who you are with. You cannot even hear who is speaking. The sharp hurling screech of the wind is unbearable. The more you experience this terrifying chaos, the more you get used to its fury. A sandstorm is a windstorm with sand and dust brought along for a rough ride.

"Joseph! A storm is coming," Mother comes rushing into the tent.

'Finally, Mother is here,' I think to myself.

"I know, and I've been trying to tell your son to get moving!" Dad gives me a guilt-tripping stare as if the storm is my fault.

"Yeshua?" Mum's voice is more urgent than Dad's, perhaps because she's carrying.

'Is she asking me a question or giving me a direction?' I wonder.

"Mary, he needs to start preparing the camels to load these crates." Why do people do that? Talk to someone else when in fact, they're speaking to you. Dad thinks I can't hear him.

He rushes over to kiss her as if passion is something to crave every day.

'Yuck?' The thought in my head is disturbing.

"I love you," he speaks as his hands slide to hold her pregnant tummy.

I rush out of the tent as quickly as I can, before Dad utters another complaint. Plus, I don't want to watch them being vulgar in front of me. Mum yells out something to me as I exit but I can barely make out what she is saying with Dad snogging her.

As I look around the campsite I can see other travellers also packing up their tents. Each tent is made of small patches of goatskin which are cleverly beaten and dried to glue them together to make one substantial round roof. It is supported by one long wooden centre pole with the roof edges tied down onto wooden pegs with ropes made of wool.

I take a deep breath and realise how awake I am now. The air is crisp, clean and calm. The sun is already high, starting to beat the ground with its penetrating heat. The sky is bright blue, no clouds, no hint of a storm coming from above. From the eastern horizon, I see a vast brown shadow stretches from north to south, heading slowly towards us. The sight is magnificently scary as the dusty giant reaches to the sky. It'll come in contact with us in no time but better to reach us when we're moving rather than when we are stationary. Suddenly, I remember why I have been summoned outside.

'Where is the camel?' From memory, this is where Dad tied it last night.

"Dad?" I call out.

"Yeah?" He sounds calm. Maybe because of Mum. She's got this persona that almost settles your heart. Who knows what they're doing now?

"Where's the camel?" I ask. I hope it didn't die last night, otherwise, how are we going to move all our heavy stuff?

"Oh, I moved it to the opposite side because it was too close to our neighbour's tent." Dad replies. That is reassuring.

"Thanks," I yell back as I make my way to prepare the camel but only to find Simon, one of my school friends, also untying and adjusting his family's camel. He does not look panicked but greets me as usual.

"Shalom, Yeshu. Did your Dad wake you up? Again?" I chuckle to try and ignore the question. He's the only one that leaves the 'a' out of my name.

"Where's your Dad?" I am almost asking like I want to see him. On the contrary, I am terrified of the man and would rather not have him near us.

"This feels different Simon," I say.

"How do you mean?" He asks, sounding concerned.

I sighed for a few short seconds before responding.

"I don't know. It's just different." I'm holding back from telling Simon about the things I'm going through in my head. He's my best friend. He listens and stands up for me. There are times when he's a lost soul. He agrees to things without really thinking about the promises he makes. One time, he volunteered to help a student with his study of the Torah, the Holy Book but realised that he was just as bad. He makes me laugh with his subtle unamusing humour, which I like.

Our friendship started when Eliab was bullying me at school. While spying on me, Eliab caught me raising a dead bird to life at the touch of my fingers. In one of our religious classes at the synagogue, he abruptly called out to the Rabbi, our teacher and told him that I was a sorcerer – that he saw me raise a bird to life. He then brought forward a bird he had recently killed to prove his point. To his dismay and mine, the bird did not come to life. The mocking from my class continued afterwards. Out in the play area, Eliab grabbed a few of his friends to attack me while I was eating my lunch. Simon came to my rescue by throwing a stone that landed just in front of them. Startled, Eliab picked the stone up and I remember cursing, willing him to turn into a cephas, a rock. The moment he picked it up, he slowly changed, starting with his hands, next his feet and then his whole body. He solidified, stone-hard, for a brief second before turning back into a human being. I jumped up and ran, leaving my lunch behind. His friends started to chase me, yelling all sorts of unrecognisable words. Simon intervened and yelled at them to leave. He pretended to be a sorcerer, yelling out that he'd change them into stone too. They stopped and ran away.

I know I'm special because I have raised dead animals to life and turned my enemies into stone. I know I'm different. I know I have gifts that no one else has in Galilee. Nearly every day, I discover new supernatural things to do, such as curing a limping sheep, bringing life to a dead tree and even changing wine into water when drunkards really annoy me. A few months ago, something new started when I began hearing voices in different languages. I can speak three; Aramaic, my native tongue, Greek, what everyone speaks and Hebrew, used for the religious. Only my parents and I know about the voices and the supernatural gifts. No one else.

"Do you think we can make it to Jerusalem before the storm reaches us?" Simon asks. He is determined to leave immediately.

"I hope so. I am excited about going to the Temple." I said, but there is no reaction from Simon.

Suddenly, we hear a scream coming from my tent. That doesn't sound good. It sounds like Mum. Surely, she's not giving birth now as she's only due in a few weeks' time. What could have happened? Did she lose the baby? Again? The look on Simon's face tells me that we are not meant to go inside the tent.
CHAPTER 2: The chosen one

YUDAH

I daydream. Recently, it has been happening more frequently. Even when I am having a bath. It also occurs with my friends. Maybe it's healthy or perhaps something else? I don't know. Daydreaming is not always a good thing because you lose your sense of time. I also sometimes find myself laughing when a memory is funny or talking to myself without realising. It is embarrassing when this happens and someone is watching you.

"Yudah?" I can hear my Dad calling out from downstairs.

"This is the fifth time I've called out to you!" He is almost sick and tired of me but he's a dedicated man, more towards the history of our Jewish people. One could say he is a historian and a philosopher. He believes that one day a God will come to save the Jewish people from the Roman domination of our villages, the towns and cities. To some people, he talks rubbish. To me, he's just Dad being Dad – a visionary.

"Your daydreaming is getting worse now that you're an adult. Maybe we shouldn't have celebrated your Bar Mitzvah that early. You are still immature." Dad would sometimes say that with some conviction.

I continue to stare out towards the temple in the distance from the roof-top of our rented house. We moved down to Jerusalem a couple of days ago and Dad rented this house for a week. I come from Galilee, a city that is north of Jerusalem city and about three days' walk. It took us only one day because we travelled by horses and carts and we also took the short cut through Samaria City rather than the usual tour around the Mediterranean coast. Others take this route to avoid the Samaritans. They are half-castes – half Jewish and half Canaanites. They aren't purebred Jews like us. It's not proper for a Jew to be mixed-race.

From where I am, the magnificence of the white temple rises above and towers over all the other buildings. All the residential houses are made of clay or wood and are usually two stories high. Most of them have flat roofs, an open floor to dry clothes in the scorching sun, or just a place to sit and relax after dinner underneath the Middle Eastern evening skies. The bottom floor of the house is where the cooking takes place during winter, otherwise cooking is done outside. Similarly, during a rainy winter day or a winter's night, the animals are kept there. We sleep on the next floor up. It is an open plan sleeping arrangement with curtains to separate my parent's sleeping quarters from mine. I am the only child.

It is mid-morning. Some roosters are still crowing. I continue to stare out towards the temple, this time consciously with no daydreaming because Dad's annoying calls keep coming.

His head pops up from the entranceway of the roof-top, searching for me.

"Yudah! Come down! Let's go to the market to buy you a sacrificial lamb," he yells.

"Ahh!" I rush downstairs to get ready for the market.

My Dad is well respected by the religious leaders. Through him, they too, have come to know me well. I am privileged to have come from a wealthy family but I don't exactly understand what that means. All I know is that they can buy me things without me having to work for them. I remember receiving my Bar Mitzvah two years earlier with my friends. I had so many gifts from Dad's friends, people I did not know. It is not uncommon to receive Bar Mitzvah before one comes of age. A Bar Mitzvah is an initiation rite for a 12-year-old Jewish boy from childhood into adulthood. I only asked for an earlier one because of peer pressure from my friends.

Eliab, one of my best friends, was the primary motivator behind me asking to receive my initiation rite earlier. Eliab received his first. Sadly, he died a couple of months ago in a dreadful accident. He was said to have drowned while out fishing with his father. He just fell off their boat while pulling in their fishing net. His father jumped in to rescue him, but Eliab had disappeared. The boats out at the time rushed to help but couldn't find him. He was the only son. It's sad because we couldn't give him a proper funeral. That was one of the darkest moments of my life. Life has moved on after his death.

Many of our friends now look at me to take over the leadership role in our little bubble of friends. Dad would look at us when we gather on my home roof-top back in Galilee and utter, "Pfft... teenagers!" Dad always says that Jewish teens are the pillar of change. I have no idea what half of the things Dad says actually mean.

The market for the sacrificial animals is in the outer courtyard of the temple. Thousands of fathers and their sons are doing the same thing as Dad and I – looking to buy a perfect sacrificial animal for the Passover. The lamb or goat must be one year old. No later or earlier according to the Torah, the Laws of Moses. The main entrance to the temple faces the east, the rising sun is a symbol to welcome back those returning from the Babylonia exile, a dreaded city located thousands of miles towards the east. The east is a celebration of the rising sun – which coincidentally symbolises the rising again of the Jewish people.

The temple is cleverly crafted with symbols and meanings. The whole temple is encircled by a massive wall in a rectangular shaped property. The property is divided in the middle by a wall to form two squares; the western square and the eastern square. The western section is the temple inner-courtyard and towering in the middle is the Holy of Holies. Near the entrance in the inner courtyard is an altar made of white marble. The floor in this square is higher than that of the eastern square.

The eastern section is the outer courtyard. Here, semi-circle steps lead up to a doorway in the wall, the only front entrance for the inner courtyard, the only link between the two sections. From outside the northern and southern Temple walls, wide steps lead to a door for the inner court. These extra doors are only used during the Passover, for those who cannot manage to get through the outer court.

The outer court represents the lower class of Judaism, a zone only for Jews. No non-Jew is allowed here. This outer courtyard is also the marketplace area. Various stalls desperately try to sell their animals and permission is only given by the High Priest. The western square symbolises the place for the chosen ones, the pure ones and the holy ones. The Holy of Holies represents the highest social class; the spiritual level and the divine existence. The High Priest represents God, hence why only he enters.

God, for the Jews, is YHWH. It is the only word in the Hebrew language with four letters at its root. All other Hebrew words originate from three letters. Shalom, which means 'Hello,' comes from the three consonants of Sh, L, and M. The vowels are never spelled but instead only pronounced. YHWH is pronounced YaHWeH or Yahweh. No one is permitted to pronounce the name YHWH out loud. The Torah, the Laws of Moses, says, 'Thy Shall Not Speak of God's Name." A Jew, when seeing the word YHWH, would substitute, instead to say something else like Elohim, meaning the divine, or Abba, meaning Father or something else that is respectful and religious.

The primary access to the eastern court opens straight to the semi-circle steps, to the western court entrance and the Holy of Holies entrance. The temple-priests are the only ones who can access the inner courtyard. The armed temple-guards at the Temple are most particularly in areas accessed by the public and the citadels of the Temple walls. This ensures that those who disrespect the place are punished accordingly.

This Temple is the second version since the first one was destroyed by the Babylonians, taking the King then, along with many Jewish prisoners into exile some 500 years ago. This part of history has scarred the Jewish people for generations. The magnificence of the second temple is a vision of King Herod the Great, a royal installed by the Emperor after the Roman Empire took over Israel less than half a century ago.

King Herod rebuilt the Temple as it appears today. Although some may disagree with him, he understood the significance of the project to unify the Jewish people. He understood that philosophy and theology work side by side. The idea of its unique architecture is not only about a display of power. It also plays a psychological, social and theological significance on its believers. Life starts with the earth, the ground, the dust outside the temple walls, the physical nature of life, leading towards the main entrances, the social structure of the natural world, then to the inner entrance, the spiritual aspect of the chosen people of God, to the steps leading to the altar, the commitment to sacrifice for God and finally, the building that rises to the heavens, an ascent into God's presence. The symbolism and meaning behind the temple penetrate the psyche, the whole being and the personhood of a Jew.

"What do you think of this lamb, Yudah?" Dad is very particular and persuasive when it comes to buying a sacrificial lamb.

"Let's keep looking, Dad." I did not like the look of the lambs. I want to find something meaningful for me and not him. This is my first Passover. I have been given the opportunity to lead this year's celebration for our family and I want something that suits me.

"Yudah, how about this one?" Dad is becoming annoying now.

The noise of the terrified animals fills the marketplace, blending in with the crowd babble and sellers desperately trying to convince potential buyers on the quality of their products. Thousands descend upon Jerusalem to prepare for and then celebrate the Passover.

We have spent almost an hour scouring through each stall, but nothing seems to come out at me.

"Father?" I spot an old lady sitting on her own, selling a black one-year-old goat.

"Father, come! I think I've found what I want." I feel confident with my choice as I make my way towards the woman. She can sense that I am heading towards her, so she gives me a creepy smile. I do not care. All I want is the kid.

Just before I have a chance to speak, she warns me.

"You have been chosen for something great boy." An awkward silence falls between us.

I smirk and look back to see if my father has followed behind.

"The day will come when your dreams come to reality. You are the door that you'd rather not open," she continues.

'What do you mean, lady?' I am stunned by her words and want to ask her, but somehow, I can't find my voice.

"Yudah – how much is it?" My father is specific when it comes to prices.

"It's 50 silver coins." The nameless woman replies.

"What? That's a rip off!" my father exclaims loudly so that it can be heard echoing through the market walls.

"Dad!" That might as well have been the third time calling out his name.

"I would like that goat," I say. I can see that I have stopped my father from grabbing the lady by the throat.

"I'm paying 30 silver coins and nothing more." He throws the bag of coins in front of the woman. Father is financially minded.

To my surprise, the lady does not throw a drama or argue back. She just simply says, "Thank you." She stands up and leaves without even looking back, as if she has fulfilled what she came to do.

"That was weird." I sighed and untied the goat.

Back home, Mum is glad to see me, more like happy that I have finally bought a sacrificial animal for the Passover meal. They've been trying to convince me to go to the market but I've been busy wandering around the rooftop and meeting new friends.

"Only one day left before the sacrificial day," Mum reminds me as she walks towards me to hug me. She's quite a touchy type of woman.

"You're growing into a gentleman now!" She says this all the time. It's embarrassing when she does this, especially when she walks to the synagogue to pick me up after school. No other mother, let alone other parents, do that; only her. She would tell me how much she loves me and hug me before she grabs my hand to lead me home.

'Perhaps that's why the girls don't like me?' I wonder. I like girls but only to an extent. I sometimes daydream about having a girlfriend. Girls are not allowed to attend our religious education classes because these are specifically designed for males. This gives me no chance of meeting any girls at school. My marriage will be arranged.

I disagree with this pedagogical madness, limiting education only to males. I think females should be allowed to learn. It's the new age, especially as we are now under Roman rule. Education is essential to all young people. At least, that's what my Dad keeps telling me - education is the key to freedom. It's been over 2000 years since our founding father, Abraham, and still, we haven't grown out of the old ways. We are still living a morality based on thousands of years of nonsense.

Change is needed, but how? I also disagree with arranged marriages. I want to find my wife by choice and not through my parents. I want to find someone I will love rather than someone I will work together with to find love. Love, according to Dad, is the key to life as it is the reason why life started in the first place.

"Go and help your father prepare the firewood for our dinner." Mum has now cupped my jaw in her hands.

"Make sure you do most of the work and don't let your father work too hard," she warns me that Dad has lately been showing signs of tiredness, even after a simple walk. She thinks that his heart is getting weaker because he is getting old. I think he's just getting too fat from eating with the rich and therefore, unfit. Then again, I recall his slow pace at the market this morning and how long it took us to get home this afternoon.

As I make my way to the back door towards the firewood area, I can hear Dad quietly shoving and fighting with another man out the back.

'Who's that?' I wonder as I slowly peep to see the kerfuffle.

"It didn't work!" He said to Dad. The man is scared. That doesn't sound like something I am supposed to hear.

'What didn't work?' I thought. 'Has dad gotten himself into something sinister?'

"Get out of here and don't you dare come back until it's done!" Dad sounded like a boss. I pretended not to have seen anything and yelled back to Mum. "So, you want me to help Dad with the firewood?"

"Yudah, get out there with your Dad!" She yells back. I'm guessing Dad will have taken the bait.

I quickly make my way outside and my father sees me and smiles.

"Don't listen to your mother." Yup, Dad definitely doesn't suspect me but I can't help wondering 'what is Dad up to?'

CHAPTER 3: The messenger

PHILIP

"You still have a lot to learn," Father's voice was weak and I could barely make out the words.

"Ha-Melek sheli! – Yes, your Majesty!" I think I was repeating that response every time he said something. I did not know what else to say to him.

"You're going to be a young King, Philip, and a good one too," Father continued. I thought I would be emotional, sitting next to his death bed.

"So, get rid of your enemies and be careful who you make friends with," those were his last words to me before I was told to leave the room. He died peacefully that night.

King Herod died last year. I woke up to discover the news the next morning and immediately, was declared by the courthouse as King Philip, King of Judea.

*****

My coronation is this year, a few days after the Passover celebration. I want all present, Jews, Greeks and Romans alike. Hence the deliberate coronation date, otherwise, people won't attend. On the other hand, the Jewish people are hard to impress. You have to use force on them for change to happen.

King Herod's coronation was a slap in their faces because his ascent to the throne came from the Roman Emperor – not from the Jewish people. They didn't like it. Not many of them came to his coronation and some came only out of curiosity. As a mixed-blooded Jew, half-Jew and half-Roman, one could understand the public distaste. My mother was a full Jew by the name of Mariamne. She was a woman of beauty and the daughter of Boethius who is currently the High Priest. Mother died a year before Father. It crushed him to pieces when she rallied for my half-brother Prince Antipas to be executed. King Herod's enemies used her strength as the weapon that destroyed her, to the point where she broke the law and was executed on a count of treason – a plot to kill a royal prince. Father could not do anything to save his wife, even as King. Ultimately, her death took a toll on him and his health rapidly declined. The court tolerated Herod as King of Judea. However, a woman's involvement in the kingdom's affairs is indiscreet.

I stand today as King but in a strange way because I am not yet officially crowned but only declared. The practice is that when a king dies, the heir is immediately declared King. The coronation ceremony will take place later and in my case, a year after father died. This ceremony officially anoints me to the throne permanently.

There are still some nobles and ministers who are against King Herod and thus against me. They'd rather have Antipas as their king because he fits their principles of destruction and their hunger for power. I do not possess such urges.

My coronation is going to be big. I know it will be a grand celebration because it is a celebration of the people, not me. Preparations are already underway. I am receiving visitors from all over the world except those of my blood. That said, my enemies, or rather my father's enemies, are probably making their way to Jerusalem too.

My palace is not as big as that of the Roman Consulate but it's close enough. His residence is like an Emperor's castle. Mine is also not as grand as the temple which towers over Jerusalem. The temple is a marvelous build to which I am proud of my father. The King's palace he made too. He made sure that it isn't more prominent than the temple to show solidarity with Jewish theocracy. The castle is gracefully designed, architecturally thought-out, running parallel to the temple – the main entrance to the east. It is located a few blocks down the street to the northern side of the temple wall. It is a place of luxurious décor with all buildings made of white marble and red-tiled roofing – similar materials to that of the Holy of Holies, minus the roof. Two huge houses of the same geometry are the centerpiece of the palace. One to the east and the other to the west with two inner walls running parallel along with both house widths, encompassing both houses to make it look like one huge property.

An outer wall as high as the building roof surrounds the whole palace. The top of the wall has a security walkway all around it with citadels all around. Each corner of the wall holds a tower of a higher construction overlooking Jerusalem. This wall is heavily guarded by soldiers 24/7. Security is tight and there is no way an amateur thief could find an entrance or an escape.

The space between the two houses is designed as a Roman garden with statues of Roman deities surrounding a human-made pond with a fountain in the middle. I love father's Roman etiquette. The whole ground is tiled using rocks excavated from the Jordan river; the closest father could get to a Roman look. These are his attempts to replicate his mini Roman Empire. Father loved to take a walk through here every morning before meeting with delegates or generals of the army or in the evening after dinner. He would pace through the garden slowly, hold onto any of the columns and gazing into a bliss. If he was to find peace, it was in this place. This was his little heaven. Dad always told me that this world is our only heaven. Heaven is not what one expects but rather what one creates. Everyone can create their own heaven.

I have inherited all of this from my father, who was an architect, someone who knew about buildings and most importantly, someone who knew how to be a leader, a King.

My main house is the western house. Father called it Venus, after the Goddess of love, prosperity and success. A statue of the Goddess is located at the bottom of the stairs leading to the entrance, next to the fountain. The King and the Queen's sleeping quarters are in here too; the northern side, although I don't have a Queen yet. The King's courtroom is at the center of the house. It is an open room, a hall made of white marble walls, and with scented oil lamps to brighten up the room and to dilute the smells that come from people, possibly from body odour. At the front end of the courtroom is the King's throne on a raised stage. There is also an open area for generals, ministers and advisors to the King – they are known as the courthouse. They stand around during the weekly audience with the King and no other chair is provided but mine – not even for the Queen. Soldiers heavily guard all corridors leading to the entrance.

As a 21-year-old king, I am still learning how to lead, how to stand on my two feet, especially when my decisions are heavily influenced by the military, the ministers and advisors.

*****

Right now, I am taking a bath and preparing myself for an exclusive audience with a messenger. Romans love their baths and they are usually taken after lunchtime. I am having mine after dinner as I love getting out of the hot water and into the fresh, crisp air of the evening breeze. I'm sitting inside the tub, fully unclothed, with the bottom half soaked underneath the soapy water. A servant girl is helping me relax.

"Hhmmm..." A slight moan escapes my mouth as the servant girl massages my shoulder. Now and then, she hits that perfect spot, which releases my tensioned muscles. I am not a doctor but massages seem to produce a psychological and a spiritual enigma to the body. Another servant girl is a short distance from us and faithfully holding my bathrobe. The girls are both perhaps only a few years older than me and are professional, respecting the duty I hold as their king. These are girls who knew my father and probably slept with him to give him his daily sexual release. It's standard practice for servant girls to provide gratification other than the wife. I haven't tried it yet, as instructed by the courthouse. After my coronation, I am free to do whatever I wish. I cannot wait. Even now, her touch is unleashing feelings I've never had before. I am resisting. My magister tells me that sexual feelings invoke dangerous desires, which paralyzes a man's judgment and soul. Even a man with the greatest wisdom can be corrupted by it, whether you are a pauper, a priest or even a King.

"Did you know that my father arranged for me to marry a princess?" I am starting a conversation with the servant girl but she's not responding. They are trained not to. They know that the moment they talk or are caught engaging in a conversation with royalty will be the very moment their heads are gone, literally. Even if it's the King's fault. Unfair but just – the security of the King is priority.

"Do you think you can talk back to me? Just for today?" I know I'm tempting her and perhaps going a bit too far. She continues her loyal duty without wavering.

"That's alright." I pretend that she responded.

I reached out to stop her massage and for the first time, I touch a servant girl's hand. They are soft. I slowly turn back to look at her straight in her eyes. I can't believe I'm doing this. I'm not taking the girl to my advantage. I don't want to be that kind of King. No! I'm just testing my boundaries, I suppose.

'I want to kiss you.' Luckily, I didn't say that out loud.

I move her hands to a more needed area on my shoulders for a deeper massage and continued to relax, thinking about nothing.

Later on that evening, I am sitting on my throne, waiting patiently for a piece of news from a messenger. I have arrived early. I don't like being late. I am in my official garment only for this unique and select audience. I am in my Roman military uniform; an inner white tunic with a leathered strip of skirt around my waist and a leathered shirt with an army sash. On my shoulder is a warm woollen cloak braided with gold, silver and white pearl beads. The cloak belonged to my father. I am wearing my casual golden crown on my head and golden rings all over my fingers.

The crackling lamp fire accompanies me with no one else present in the room but silence. It's warm in here. Maybe it's more the anticipation that's making the room temperature rise. The anticipation is building my mind to replay the past. It's been a year and Father's words return:

"...get rid of your enemies and be careful who you make friends with."

'What does he mean by that?'

'Is he is talking about my younger brother, Prince Antipas?'

Our father gave Antipas the northern district of Galilee as his Kingdom. He's only one year younger than me but he's bigger and more durable. He is 5-feet taller, lighter skinned and square faced with strong, broad shoulders, muscly arms and thighs and knows how to use a sword. Emperor Augustus, the Roman Emperor, favors him more than me. Antipas is an arrogant person, cruel and spoilt by his ego. He desperately wants my throne, although he's already got his. He believes that he knows father's architectural and military skills. Therefore, he claims to be able to unite Israel, so he'd be King of Galilee and Judea.

He's always looking for trouble. He's been like that even when we were growing up together. Antipas couldn't bear the fact that I am to be King of the south while he's King of the north. Only recently, I have been told that he's been hunting to kill a Nazarene kid by the name of Yeshua, who lives in Galilee. A Nazarene? Why? I don't understand. Nazareth is the name of a town in Galilee and thus anyone from there is a Nazarene. That's his business, but it seems he's getting me involved somehow. My father, too, once obsessed over the birth of a child and wanted to kill him. Neither he nor father has been successful. How can they be? There are so many kids by the name of Yeshua. The name is one of the most common Jewish names.

I can hear footsteps coming.

'Finally, something I've been waiting for!' I am hopeful. No door opens up to the courtroom; only a silky see-through purple curtain. I cannot tell who is coming but I'm content for now. I'm ready to hear this.

The servant enters and behind him, a messenger. They walk towards me and both bow at the same time. The servant proceeds.

"Shalom Ha-Melek sheli - Greetings your Majesty! Your messenger has arrived," says the servant in his ritualist way.

"Your Majesty!" He pauses for a while without looking at me. He keeps his eyes to the floor.

The servant has moved out of his way already. I am still waiting for him to continue and now I'm puzzled.

'What is going on?' the question didn't come out of my mouth- only in my head. I am desperately anxious.

"It didn't work your Majesty!" You could hear him swallowing any liquid left in his mouth.

"Yes, the boy is still safe!" He continued.

"Was he there?" I erupted!

"The boy or your brother, Prince Antipas, Your Majesty?" the messenger is not any older than me. Probably the same age.

"The boy was there but no your Majesty, your brother wasn't there. However, there is no doubt that he planned the whole thing." He quickly continued before I had the chance to respond.

"Was anyone hurt?" The last thing I want is someone getting hurt.

"No, Sire!" The messenger sounded relaxed. Messengers are carriers of messages, whether they be in written form or verbal. No one knows their names. It is part of the job. They carry with them a seal, sometimes in the form of a ring or a letter, to show that they are indeed authentic messengers. They are good runners. They can run hundreds of marathons in a week and still not get tired. The idea originated from the Greeks. Greeks are good at ideas and putting them into practice. Messengers are paid similar to soldiers, the highest paying job. However, the chance of them dying earlier than a soldier is higher because sometimes, the receivers of the messages kill them. Therefore, they rarely start a family but the few who do, if they die on duty, the family are looked after well by the monarchy.

"Thank you for the news. Is there anything else?" I raise my eyes to the messenger as if I am now satisfied with his news. I am expecting a 'no' in his response.

He pauses, this time looking straight at me, perhaps studying my face.

"No, your Majesty," he finally blurts and bows again.

I expected that reply and it's one I'm glad to hear.
CHAPTER 4: Jerusalem, a changing city

YESHUA

"Ahh Mary!" Joseph gives a soft cry before collapsing.

A black mole-viper snake hisses as it curls away from Joseph to escape. The reptile has bitten Joseph's left ankle and Mary is desperately looking at where the enemy is now hiding. She's found a sword that her husband uses to fend off burglars and robbers and is cautiously using it to lift up everything on the ground, hoping not to be bitten too. Finally, hiding underneath Yeshua's bed-mat, there it is. The snake is now exhausted from its attack and keen to get-away. For a few seconds, Mary can't tell which end is the head and which is the tail as both look alike.

'Look for the eyes,' Mary shudders.

'There it is. I see it,' Mary is confident she's located the head. She's only got one chance to strike. If she takes out the tail, the head is ready to attack her. She could end up like Joseph. What would possibly happen to Yeshua if both her and Joseph are gone? What would happen to their unborn child? Admittedly, this is not what God has planned for them at their hour of death.

The snake nervously awaits its fate and with one strike, Mary chops its head off. The poor animal dies instantly. A clean and quick death. She now turns her attention to the victim. Joseph is lying on the ground, pale, not moving, struggling to breathe and unconscious. The venom is taking its course. It will only take five minutes to reach his heart before he dies.

"Ahhhh!" Mary lets out the most terrifying scream.

"Yeshua!" Mary calls out loudly this time.

"Yeshua!" I can hear my mother screaming.

I look at Simon briefly, who is now facing our tent with terror showing on his face, looking back at me. My Mother's voice is clear. She is calling my name. That's a sign that she needs me there – now!

I quickly run to the tent, forgetting to tie back the camels. Luckily Simon handles that before coming after me. I find Mum crouched over Dad and lying him flat on the ground. He looks motionless. I quickly approach them, sliding onto my knees and notice the amputated viper and a sword lying beside it. I can tell what has happened and I already know what Mum is indirectly telling me to do. I quickly grab the snakes head and put some blood on the dirt next to Dad's feet to make a paste. I then place some onto the wounds.

"He needs to drink some water." I direct my mother. It'll only take a few minutes before he recovers.

A few seconds after his ankle is covered with the bloodied soil, Joseph takes a deep breath and starts to breathe normally. He slowly opens his eyes and stares straight into Mary's. Mary is holding Joseph's head in her lap as she's sitting behind him.

"You'll be fine, darling." Tears are now streaming down her face.

"Thanks, son!" Dad slowly sits up.

This is how far Dad knows about my gifts. I have a miraculous touch. Somehow I know how the earth can bring healing. I don't know how I got them. It first happened when I was only 7 years old. Mum and I were out sowing seeds in the field and found a lamb that was severely injured, attacked by some kind of beast. She told me to bring it home to nurture it and as I was carrying it, I remember asking the earth and plants around me with the heavens and skies above to bring forth healing. To my astonishment, when we arrived home, the lamb had returned to good health. Mum told Dad about it and the rest is history.

"Next time you see a snake, just call me!" I quiver. I get up and quickly leave to prepare the camels. Simon witnessed the whole thing and didn't know what to do. He couldn't believe what his eyes had seen. This is the first time he's seen me perform something of the kind. He never expected it from me – a quiet introvert.

"You always surprise me, Yeshu!" Simon quickly runs after me to express his thoughts. He is still behind me as he speaks. His laziness in leaving the 'a' out of my name, has given me the nickname, Yeshu. You are lucky if you don't get a nickname to avoid the humiliation that comes with it.

"Look, Simon!" I turn around to face him.

"I don't want you going around telling others about what just happened," I continue.

"Of course not!" he stops from taking another step and agrees.

He then goes on, "But others are gonna ask what happened at your tent cause your mother screamed your name like wosus."

He's right. There is no way of explaining this especially when Dad recovered so quickly from a snake bite. No one recovers quickly from such a bite; normally, people die. I am not going to lie to anyone. It's not in my blood to do such a thing. I have been raised to be a righteous person and I must make choices to continue being that kind of person.

"You worry too much about what other people think, Simon." I give Simon a stern response and return to working on the camel.

The sandstorm is still heading towards us but will probably reach us whether we take the turn towards the Mediterranean coastline or through Samaria.

Israel is located in the middle of two great topography, the Mediterranean Sea in the west and the Arabian desert to the east. There are three districts; Galilee up north, Samaria in the middle, and Judea down south. We are heading to Jerusalem, a city in Judea. We go along the coastline not only to try and avoid the storm, but also the historical hostility between the Samaritans and the Jews. Jews are staunch people. It is even more significant when it comes to their identity and being purely bred. Blood must be kept as pure as it is.

In Jewish beliefs, the source of life is given by God – YHWH. This source of life or ruah is in our blood. This is why we are the chosen race of YHWH. Jewish blood is sacred, anointed and chosen by YHWH. Being chosen is where the mystery lies. To contaminate the blood is a mortal sin. Therefore, mixed-blood means God's life is diluted. The less Jewish the blood, the more dilute one is of God's ruah. Those from Galilee and Judea are purely bred Jews. A pure-bred Jew who walks through the district of Samaria is going to provoke a fight therefore, walking around it is the best option.

I love every journey down to Jerusalem. The coastline path is renowned for its view of the sea from the mountain range. Unfortunately, today we can't see the water as the clouds have descended on us. We haven't met anyone going in the opposite direction. Thankfully Dad is fine and walking like a new man.

Suddenly, the sky goes dark and immediately all realises that the storm is only a few kilometres away and closing in fast. We cannot see anything because of the high rocky mountains. The wind will definitely pass through. Everyone is starting to panic as the procession of campers, march on. It only takes a few minutes for the hurling wind to start howling over us.

Distracted by the sandstorm approaching and everyone starting to wear their scarf to protect their eyes from the stinging dust, we hear a cracking sound coming from the mountain side. A huge rock has detached, possibly from the force of the gusty wind and is rolling and heading towards us. Behind it, the sandstorm comes rushing down. The impact of the rock will hit us first, in less than a minute. The rock will take out the front of the procession, possibly a few campers and their camels with it. I notice Simon and his father are part of that group of people. We all look in horror as the rock picks up momentum and breaks up little pieces, taking more rubble with it. Everyone in the front quickly hushes their camels to start running as the animals start to cry, sensing the horror descending from the mountains. People are already running. We stop, not knowing what else to do but just watch everything unfold.

"Yeshua?" Mum yells from the back. I turn around to see the look on her face as if she is asking me to do something. I do not hesitate. Somehow, I seem to know what she asks without her even telling me. I gaze in the direction of the unfolding drama, the rock will hit in a matter of seconds and the thick blustery dust, behind it, is picking up speed as it descends. In a quiet voice, I whisper to the wind to consume the rock. Without warning, the dust increases its speed, surpassing the rolling stone and completely enveloping it. No one can see the rock but rather a wall of gushing thick brown dust heading downwards towards us. Then, I whisper for the dust to keep us from harm as it arches over us, forming a tunnel-like structure as we walk through. The rock is nowhere to be seen. Everyone looks with awe and cannot figure out what has happened. Simon immediately knows I may be responsible for the phenomenon and I can see him, staring at me. He also looks relieved he's safe. Mum's smile tells me she's safe too. I always gain confidence when Mum is around me. As the storm passes, the chatter continues regarding the incident. Some believe it is the work of sorcery while others believe it is the protection of the divine.

*****

From a distance, as we descend the dry, rocky mountain range into Judea, Jerusalem city comes into view. The only magnificent building that is seen first in every direction is the Temple. The white marble and the golden citadel at the top are exaggerated by the bright sun. It is in the highest spot in the city because it is located on a hill. Surrounding it are thousands of dwellings and buildings of various shapes and sizes stretching outwards. Jerusalem city is enormous, with the city walls encompassing all the buildings. There are multiple gates through the city walls. We are going through the southern gate called the 'Eye of the Needle.' It's easier because Mum's cousin's house is nearer from there and the camels are more comfortably lead through that gate than the others. Otherwise, we would have to walk around to enter through the main northern gate and that would take hours. Every time we come through it, Dad always says, 'It's easier to walk through the Eye of the Needle than to enter through the main gate.'

As we approach Mum's families' property, I hear a familiar voice.

"Yeshua!" my cousin John yells out excitedly and runs towards us.

"John!" I call back despite not being able to initially see him because I am now seated on the camel next to Mum. I jump up but realise that the whole carriage might topple, so quickly sit back down again. After spotting him in the distance, I wave wildly with excitement and a huge smile covers my face. I haven't seen him in ages. He's the same age as me.

"Shalom, John!" I might have repeated that about 10 times. That's how excited I am to see him. We hug for a while as Mum and Dad meet his parents, Aunty Elizabeth or Liz and Uncle Zechariah or Zeecha.

After we unpack, while Mum and Dad are busy catching up with Aunty and Uncle and preparing dinner, John swiftly takes me out of the house to show me a perfect spot on our neighbour's roof where you can see the Temple. It is quite reasonable for kids to walk over other people's rooftops. Everyone does it. It's like another road but only accessible for those who can jump from one roof to another. People usually respect other's rooftops. There are the odd occasions when children are accused of burglary because of roof walking. They are, in most cases, false accusations.

"I went the other day roof walking and found this." John points to a rooftop. You can barely see it in the setting sun. I notice what John is pointing at, two metal structures: two arrowhead the size of my hands. The arrowheads are quadrilateral in shape, pointing at a 45-degree angle into the sky. One is pointing north and the other is pointing east. Both are held up in the air, each by a metal pole. I look back at John, baffled.

"That symbol is for the Order of the Star." He declares. His voice is one of confusion too. Then he continues to show me many similar structures all around the city. So many houses have them.

"There are more and more every year." He continues. Now that he's pointed it out, he's actually right.

We come to Jerusalem every year for the Passover but this is the first time John and I are coming as adults.

"What happens there?" I ask.

"That's the Angel Samael's religion, Yeshua!" John didn't hesitate to speak. Then he continues, "That's what that metal structure is about. If you put the arrowhead together, one pointing north and the other pointing east, you'll see that it forms a star, hence why it is called, the Order of the Star." He pauses, tossing a pebble towards the house and gazes at the evening sun slowly descending.

"The Angel Samael is a dark angel," he picks up another stone before continuing. "He is known to be pleased when people commit grave sins. Adultery is one of those that satisfy him. Worship to him often involve sexual activity which they believe is a religious act. The Order of the Star members meet where three men and one woman perform such act." John is now talking like a teacher as if he knows a lot. The truth is, he does.

"Something strange is happening in Jerusalem!" John suddenly tosses the stone towards the same direction.

"More people are coming to Jerusalem for its wealth." John pauses every time he says a sentence. He's well educated, observant and often studies about the meaning of life.

"I can sense evil coming to Israel!" John continues. His facial expression is serious. He's not even looking at me. He's staring out towards the same direction.

The sun is now setting over the Mediterranean Sea, the sky glowing with pink and orange clouds. A flock of stock doves are making their way home. The air is filled with smoke from the evening cooking. The temperature of the air is starting to cool down fast. It didn't take long to be dark and the starry lights begin to slowly emerge out of the darkened curtains of sky.

"John!" I call out to my cousin.

"Let's go home. I'm hungry." I'm not apologetic when it comes to wanting to go and eat.

We get home just in time for the evening meal.

"Yeshua!" Mum calls out to me.

"Yeah?" I mumble back. I know precisely what Mum wants.

"Come here for your wash." The sound of washing is not really an appealing one. Firstly, it's taking up precious time from our mealtime. Secondly, I'm embarrassed about stripping naked in front of Mum. Thirdly, the water is too cold.

Mum used to give me a full body wash every evening before dinner until my Bar Mitzvah. I would take off all my clothes, step into a basin and then she would give me a full body wash. Before hopping into the bowl, she would pour water over my feet first to wash off the dirt. Feet washing for Mum was my favourite part because its ticklish and funny. When Mum visited Aunty Liz, Dad would take over Mum's washing duties but he's lazy and only washed my feet. His excuse for doing so was that cleaning the feet meant you've left the troubles of the day behind, washed away before dinner. You would then go to sleep and ready to start a new day."

I am now old to wash myself. After the wash, I rush to wear something warm before heading downstairs for the evening meal.

Aunty Liz has prepared a beautiful vegetable soup, while Mum has helped her with some roasted bread. The soup smells so lovely as I sit at the table.

It's a low table, about six inches off the ground. Everyone sits around the table at every meal, before the elder of the house leads with the food blessing.

"Blessed are You, Lord our God, Father of the universe, in Your goodness, we have this bread and this meal we offer You, fruit of the earth and work of human hands." Uncle Zeecha's recitation of the Hamotzi Prayer is faster than how Dad does it.

"Blessed are You, Lord, forever." In unison, we respond to Uncle Zeecha. This is a traditional meal prayer done at every dinner. The beautiful thing is that every Jewish house recites the same prayer before their meal and therefore, we are united with them too in prayer.

The food smells yum! I can't wait to dig in but I have to wait to be served. John is quiet at the dining table. Probably still bothered by the evil he talked about back on the roof. Why is he even bothered? Mum and Dad are laughing, as usual, with each other. Aunty Liz is stressing out whether we've got enough food. There's plenty. Uncle Zeecha is talking to me about the lambs he's prepared for John and I for the sacrificial day tomorrow. I'm watching his lips move but my head is somewhere else. I'm still concerned about John and all that talk about the Order of the Star and the Angel Samael.

"Thanks, Uncle Zeecha," I blurt out.

"I'm done eating now, Mum!" I hope it wasn't too rude saying that.

"You'll have to wait until everyone has finished eating, Yeshua. You know that!" Mum is stern about meal etiquette.

"Ugh," I sigh, without being too obvious about my annoyance.

Uncle Zeecha finishes the blessing after the meal, followed by an announcement of tomorrow's activities.

"We are all waking up before the cock crows," he states.

That's code for a very early wake-up; before sunrise. I want to complain, but we're here for the Passover and to wake up early is just part of the Passover excitement.

"Joseph and I will be going ahead to get our place in the queue for the sacrifice as there will be thousands at the Temple. John and Yeshua, you two are to each bring your lamb slowly. Don't rush it, or you're going to stress out the animals. Remember, the animals mustn't be stressed out at the time of sacrifice." Uncle's directive is too formal sometimes.

He's known for being an organised man. He knows exactly what needs to be done. He's also older than Dad and knows the Jewish rituals very well. In contrast to uncle, Dad, on the other hand, is always rushing and not really thinking things through.

The journey with the animals to the Temple is an arduous one. Sometimes, the lamb refuses to be pulled or carried. One could be standing for over half an hour waiting for it to start moving again. Pulling does not do the trick as it bruises the neck, as well as Uncle's reason – stressing the lamb. Seriously? I think we are too pedantic about animal welfare.

"After the lambs are killed, hung to be gutted and skinned, we are to meet at the main entrance of the Temple. No one leaves the entrance until all are present." Uncle continues.

Then, he pauses and looks around, looking for acknowledgment. Dad nods and looks around for John and me to nod also. I'm not surprised when I instinctively respond.

"Finally, Mary and Elizabeth will be preparing lunch for us for the journey. They will be staying at home to prepare for tomorrow's evening celebration."

Uncle Zeecha is a gift to our family. I love to listen when he shares his reflection on Jewish history at the Passover. This time it is going to be different because I am leading our Passover and our meal will be separate from my cousin's.

The sleeping area, the upper room of the house, will be converted into a dining room for my families Passover. John and his family will take the bottom dining room, where we are eating now.

'What about my dream?' I suddenly remember.

'Will I be hearing the voices? Should I tell John about them? Why would I if I haven't told Simon? What if John starts judging me about them?'

The anticipation of getting answers is mounting up. I want to stop thinking about it so that I can sleep well tonight.
CHAPTER 5: A natural attempt

Three days earlier, Prince Antipas discovers another young boy named Yeshua, said to have been born in Bethlehem. This is possibly the boy he has been looking for as he's been looking for boys by the name. He is unsure if this boy is the sorcerer prescribed by the manuscript. The Prince is not taking any chances. He wants the boy killed.

"What exactly is your plan?" Prince Antipas demands.

He is only 20 years old but a young man who is beyond his age. He possesses a good network of leaders from politics to religion. Prince Antipas knows what he wants and how to get it.

"We don't want to make things too obvious, your Highness." Yudah's father addresses the Prince with humility.

His men shove a prisoner to the floor, constrained by iron chains. He doesn't complain. He just sits there, regretting whatever crime he's committed.

"We will need to allow nature to do the work for us so that it looks natural and no one suspects."

He walks over to one of his servants holding a big basket, grabs the basket and throws it in front of the prisoner. Crawling out of the basket, a big black-mole viper senses the warm blood of prey. The prisoner suddenly realizes his doom and starts screaming, struggling to move in his chains, fighting against the hungry snake as he continues to beg for help.

The creature quickly strikes right underneath the prisoner's neck. The victim doesn't see it coming and cannot do anything as his hands are tied down by the heavy chains. His body can't cope with the poison as he falls back motionless.

That's the thing with this snake's venom. It paralyses its prey as the poison goes straight into the nervous system before the chemical attacks the cardiac muscle. The pain is so excruciating that it silences the victim. However, for someone looking on the outside, they have no idea what the pain feels like because all they see is a motionless person.

"Once the venom reaches his heart, he is gone. Only a few minutes." Yudah's father knows he's not being totally genuine with his information. He doesn't care. He wants the money and knows the Prince will trust him.

One servant carefully directs the snake back into the basket and leaves the room. The rest of the servants pick up the dead body and depart.

"Joseph and his family have left Galilee today. They are on their way to Jerusalem. They are camping for two nights along their way because of the large company with them."

The Prince is listening intently to the presentation. The plan sounds plausible.

"We are going straight through Samaria City with my family. I will be leaving behind a few men to carefully release the snake into the boy's tent." His Highness adjusts his seating with interest.

"They have to get it right and do it at the right time." He continues. Everyone is concentrating on the presentation.

"The best time to release the snake is just before the sun rises." He concludes. A sudden silence fills the room. There is a long pause as the Prince discerns with a stern look on his face. His youthful face mustn't be mistaken with his mature decision. The Prince calls over an Army General. They whisper something to each other until they came to an agreement.

"Pay him 100 gold coins. That's only 10%, and we'll pay you the rest when it's done.
CHAPTER 6: The proposal

PHILIP

Not long after sunrise, back in Judea, King Philip received a pigeon note in his chamber. The use of this bird as a form of communication is common with the Romans, especially between the court and the military. They would train the bird to fly back to an original point, in this case, the King's chamber. Despite where on earth one takes the bird, it will always find its way back to its original location. This is the fastest form of communication as it takes less than five hours for the bird to fly from Galilee to Judea.

The note said, "The dove flies out at dawn to fetch for a sign. The dove returns home after sundown." The message is cleverly encrypted to stop those who will intercept it. To a Jew, this is a scripture text from the story of Noah. To an outsider, this is insignificant. However, to the King, he knows what the note means. His spies are obstructing Prince Antipas' dangerous plan at dawn, and a messenger is arriving after sunset for updates.

I am sitting in my chair, still flummoxed and speechless by the news.

'I can't believe my brother is obsessed with killing this child. What is so special about this boy that he's desperate to get rid of him?' My thoughts are running wild.

'He's safe – for now. What can I do to protect him?' I find myself coming up with hundreds of plans in my head. I need to choose only one. I also need to go to bed. These decisions will have to wait until tomorrow morning.

The new day is refreshing. Another hot day ahead, busy with everyone going to the Temple to offer their sacrifices to YHWH, all in preparation for the Passover later tonight. I have summoned Boethius, the High Priest who is also my grandfather, my mother's father. We are having breakfast together.

"Your Majesty!" Boethius declares as he enters from across the dining room where I am served hot wheat pancakes with fresh dates. These dates come from Shiraz in Persia.

"You're late," I immediately exclaim.

"But I know you're a busy man Papa," that was a quick save, I think.

"How're the preparations going for the Passover?" I continue and by this time, Boethius is standing right beside me and about to give me a bow. I instantly stand up to stop him and, without hesitation, kiss both his cheeks as is the tradition. I may be his King, but he's my grandfather and after my mother and father's death, he's the only true family I have left. He's also my most respected advisor because he's very wise. He doesn't have to treat me differently and vice versa. This is how you treat family. Status in society never dictates how one treats family. Family is the foundation of your life, the root of your existence, and one must always remember their humble beginnings.

"I'm told that your half-brother wants to take your throne. Are these rumours correct?" Grandpa slowly takes a seat. He prefers Roman seating because of the higher chairs and tables than the Jewish ones. Roman food is delicious too, compared to Jewish food, which is full of spices and herbs. However, he prefers his traditional Jewish diet.

"Rumours are just rumours, Papa." I've been calling him that since Mum and Dad taught me, and I cannot remember when I started. I continue with my breakfast.

"You should try eating these Roman pancakes. So good!" I am trying to tempt this staunch Jew.

"You know very well that you didn't summon me here to try your sugary and unhealthy food." His response is somewhat too honest. The Romans are responsible for plaguing human civilisation with a sugary and unhealthy diet. Sugar has been added to drinks, to food, and eventually to people's wealth. It has become the reason to build a family and the cause of a war between nations. It is the secret ingredient of a meal and the curse of a physician. It has also become gold in food form, where people will exchange an uncia, about 30g of sugar in metric form, for a gold coin.

"Yeah. That's true." I respond by facing him straight. He's always speaking the truth, and I still have a lot to learn from him.

"I have been told that there is a young boy from Nazareth by the name of Yeshua, son of Joseph." I continue. I can see I've captured his attention and curiosity.

"Do you know him?" I ask. A sustained pause follows.

"I have never heard of him," Grandpa responds by pushing his chest up to indirectly tell me I have just insulted him.

"Why are you asking me about him?" he continues.

"Well, I'm not suggesting what you know and don't know." I am quick to reply.

"I am told that this boy possesses a special gift," I add, pausing slightly before I continue, "he's a sorcerer."

"A real sorcerer!" I correct myself.

My grandfather's attention is now noticeable. He's sitting up straight and looking at me, very interested in what else I have to say.

"Someone with magic!" I clarify.

"I know what a sorcerer is." Grandpa is quick to point out.

"What I want to know is, how did you come to know about him, and whether you understand the serious allegations you've just put forward about this boy?" He continues.

"If he is found guilty of possessing such so-called gifts, he will need to be eliminated from our Jewish society." I am hoping he doesn't mean what he's saying.

"This is damaging to our faith as people are going to worship him as a God during this time of turmoil, especially while under the Roman Empire, and under your control." Everything he said, I couldn't agree with more.

"I have a proposal." I finally point out the reason for the summons.

"Yes?" Grandpa quickly jolts in curiosity.

"I am going to kidnap the boy to protect him." I pause to wait for his reaction.

Suddenly a sparrow flies inside and starts tweeting around the room. A confirmation to my superstition that my plans are for the good of my Kingdom, I think. A sparrow is a symbol of hope and flying in at the right time must be a sign from the Gods. Perhaps the Goddess Venus sent this bird to give me a sign.

"Papa?" I enquire about his reaction.

"Ah-ha?" The look on his face is of shock. He grabs an apple, stands up, and starts pacing around the room, heading towards the bird which is now sitting on one of the decorative columns in the room. His footsteps are heavy and sound somehow aggressive.

"This child must be killed, but I cannot be part of it." Grandpa's voice is that of concern. He looks very disturbed by this boy.

"Allow me to give you the reassurance," I reaffirm Grandpa's doubts.

"...It's kidnapping for the sake of the boy's own safety and for the sake of my kingdom," I add.

"I'm not going to kill him and definitely not interested in your Jewish pride." I want to let the High Priest know that this statement is not coming from his grandson; it's from the King.

"I summoned you to let you know that the boy is most likely coming to the Temple today and I need your permission for my guards to come to the Temple to apprehend him." I find myself staring at him, waiting for a response, a reaction, anything.

"How about I give you another option?" He's speaking now as the High Priest.

"What if you wait until the boy..." he pauses and looks at me.

"What's the boy's name again?" he interrupts.

"Yeshua." I quickly reply.

"You were saying?" I want him to finish what he has to say.

"Well – I was thinking..." he's now walking towards me around the other side of the table.

"What if you wait until the boy and his family pack up to leave for Galilee. Surely, they are staying behind for your coronation. I will arrange for them to leave separately so that they won't suspect his disappearance." His plan is somewhat more convincing than I thought. He really is a man of wisdom. No wonder he's elected as the High Priest.

Under my father's rule, he appointed only one High Priest. Initially, there were a collection of High Priest's, sometimes four, other times six but never more than seven. They were chosen from all the priests and appointed by various parties; the King would select a maximum of two, the Roman Emperor a maximum of two, the College of Priests similarly, and non-priestly adult male Jews would vote for only one. All parties did not have to appoint anyone if they decided not to. Today, due to corruption, my father limited it to only one High Priest; that is Boethius.

There are two types of Jewish priests. One is a descendant of Moses' brother, Aaron, and the other type is known as the Levites. The latter are priests but whose duties are with Jews in their homes, leading prayer services at the community halls, schools and families, officiating marriages, funerals and initiation rites. Priests at the Temple are Kohens – their specific duty is confined to the Temple and the Temple alone. They hold a significant commitment to the people of Israel only for major religious festivals. There are hundreds of them registered to the Temple and assisting in this year's Passover ceremony.

"You're a man of wisdom, your Holiness," I am now standing in gratitude.

"Your Holiness?" My grandfather is surprised by the address.

"I'm taken aback by the address. Why do I sense that you're really serious about this boy?" He continues.

I don't hesitate to respond.

"It's for your sake and for mine." We both pause, needing time to think about this for a few seconds.

"I will have to take your advice and wait." I am agitated to my bones because I know that this boy, Yeshua, is the key to my survival. If he dies or something happens to him, I am guaranteed to be dead too. Keeping him alive and away from Prince Antipas is going to be difficult. The question is, will I be able to keep him alive? If he does die in an assassination attempt, will I be able to fool my brother into thinking that he's failed – again? Should I train a look-alike child to be the new Yeshua in case things go wrong? I am nervous about what lies ahead.
CHAPTER 7: Witness

YUDAH

"Yudah!" Dad calls from downstairs. He's definitely in a rush to get there. It's going to be a busy day, with thousands of people heading to the temple.

'How many of my friends from Galilee will I meet?' I wonder. Last year I didn't meet anyone. I doubt it'll be any different this year.

"Hurry up son, come and have some breakfast. We need to head to the Temple now." He sounds like he wants to be there for reasons other than the sacrifice.

'Could it be to do with that man from yesterday evening?' I'm mystified.

"On my way!" I yell back and quickly jump into my dress, tie a belt around my waist and put on my head a kippah – a traditional Jewish hat which is worn when going to the Temple.

I quickly untie my sacrificial goat, which I have secured to the palm tree at the back of the house, where Dad and the stranger had the altercation. As I bring it around the house, I can't stop wondering what Dad is up to. Mum yells out goodbye when I reach the front of the house. Before I know it, Dad has already started leading the way. My goat behaves better than the lamb we had last year. It just continues walking towards the Temple, as if it knows its destiny. I have chosen the right animal for the sacrifice.

Last year, I wasn't allowed to queue with dad for the sacrifice but instead stayed with Mum at the market area of the outer courtyard, while Dad did everything. This year, I am an adult and I am doing everything all by myself. Dad will only assist at my request.

As we enter the outer Temple courtyard, we hit a wall of dense crowd who are desperate to get through. Everyone is trying to queue at the base of the steps leading to the entrance of the Temple's inner court. Guards are on the citadels of the Temple walls and also on the ground, managing the queue. People without order can be a selfish bunch. A guard yells at the top of his voice, 'Line up in the queue assigned by the Temple guards.' A loud blast of non-stop horns comes from inside the inner courtyard, echoing through the outer courtyard and beyond.

"Dad?" I yell over the growing mass, hoping that he'll recognise my voice and turn around. Nothing. He's about 10 yards ahead of me and I can hardly see him now that I'm towered by tall men. Burrowing his way through the sea of people, he heads towards a Temple-guard, whispers something in his ear and turns around to look for me. He waves and signals for me to rush over to him the very instant he spots me. 'I'm glad you saw me,' I think to myself.

"Come, I've gotten you to go through early," he sounds satisfied that everything is going to be on schedule today. I nod and rapidly move through the entrance of the inner courtyard. It's different and more significant than I thought. I've forgotten to say thank you to Dad as I pass through the guards. There are seven more queues. Starting from my left side is the first. At the front of each, are three Kohens, one to slaughter the animal, one to capture blood, and the last to pass new cups. The soldier directs me to line up in the first queue, with only about five men ahead. To my right, I notice Yeshua and Simon from school, each in their own queue and about to hand in their sacrificial lamb. 'Finally! I've spotted someone I recognise! But how did they arrive here so early?' I wonder. They do not see me. They are too preoccupied with the excitement of their sacrifice.

"Yudah!" I turn around to see Dad yelling something at me. The noisy crowd drowns out his voice as I pretend to understand him. The last bit, I manage to pick out, "...at the northern section of the outer courtyard."

I give him a puzzled nod.

'Why didn't he come with me?' I have unanswered questions and I thought this would have been a perfect father and son moment. He didn't seem bothered by the look on my face. He didn't want to come in. I turn back to signal to him to come to join me. Too late. He's already gone.

The moment my goat reaches the Kohen, the job is done. He pats the goat, making it sit on the ground, ties all its legs with the rope I used to lead it, then gently grabs its head to face upwards and slides his knife across its neck without even giving me the chance to say goodbye.

On a wooden bar to the side of the steps, hangs all the sacrificial animals to complete the bleeding. Blood is drained to give structure and flavour to the meat when cooked. Otherwise, blood would spoil the meat and give it a gamey taste. Everyone is expected to stay and watch their sacrifice, from the killing, to the pouring of the blood over the altar and the hanging of the animal on the wooden bar. After the blood is drained, the corpse is placed on your shoulders to be carried home. The tied-up legs and the body form a hoop, handy for the carrier to poke their head through. Their hands hold up the animal from behind while their shoulders help support it.

I come away with my sacrifice on my shoulders, confident and proud of my achievement. My father is nowhere in sight. I immediately recall that he'll be waiting at the northern side. As I come around the corner to where he possibly instructed, again, he's nowhere in sight. Fear starts to quiver down my spine.

'Where is he? What is he up to?' I am now worried. I don't think I like this. 'Surely something must have happened to him.' I don't want to think of it but the thought from yesterday is fresh.

I drop my package and quickly come around to the western side; this side is away from everyone, no one but three people are here. I see the man from yesterday, standing next to him is a soldier accomplice facing towards my direction, but he doesn't seem to notice my presence. Dad's back is facing me. The soldier's uniform looks like the ones from Galilee. He is possibly on bodyguard duty as these are common amongst the rich. We have bodyguards up in Galilee, but Dad said he'd asked our bodyguards to do something for him, so they stayed there instead of joining us in Jerusalem.

I can barely hear what the three people are saying, their voices are drowned out with the commotion of the crowd in the foreground. The soldier walks towards Dad. This is not looking good. It appears that he's drawn his sword. With one stab, the weapon penetrates through Dad, appearing through his back. I hear him utter a regretful moan as he falls, automatically removing the sword from his body. The soldier, still holding onto his sword, sees the shock on my face as I run away. It all happens within the blink of an eye. I don't even have time to process what has just happened.

"Quickly, let's go before someone else sees us," I hear one of them yell out as the two escape around the other side.

'Did they recognise me?' I wonder. 'Surely, they do not care who I am, or I'd be the same as my Dad.' Thoughts keep flooding my mind. I don't know what else to do but turn around and run towards my father, lying lifelessly. I can't slow down as the beating of my heart seems to pump my rapidly moving legs also. The fear of losing my Dad overcomes me as if a mirror image of me is removed from sight. As I come crashing to the ground next to him, I quickly pick up his head. I find myself crying, tears streaming down my face, disagreeing with what I've just witnessed.

"No, Dad!" I keep screaming.

"You can't leave me, Dad." The sudden realisation of the truth; Dad is dying.

"Son?" Dad can scarcely contain himself. He coughs every time he tries to speak.

"All I've done is for the sake of the people of Israel, but most importantly, for you." He manages to complete that sentence. He tries to catch his breath before he continues.

"They want a boy named Yeshua." He pauses for a bit.

"He is a boy more special than I previously thought." The sound of his voice is now depleting.

"Some cruel people want him dead," he adds.

"Please forgive me for..." He coughs, but this time it is weak. I quickly hush him to speak no more.

"I love..." he breathes his last and collapses in my arms. My tears start flowing continuously.

"I love you too, Dad!" I reach out to kiss his closest cheek, soaking his face with my tears.

I return home with two corpses, assisted by the Temple-guards. My mother collapses the moment she sees Dad. Her cry causes me to erupt into a mess again. I hastily grab her from falling to the ground. She is not stable when it comes to emotion; she lets all see without protecting her dignity. Dad was everything to her. She's lost her best friend and I am angry at myself for not being able to protect him. I am responsible for causing Mum's heartache.

I feel responsible for Dad's death as I should have done something like calling out during the confrontation. Something. Anything. My daydreaming goes into overdrive as I imagine the possibilities I could have taken to save Dad. I could have done this or that, but then again, I didn't. Dad is dead, and I did nothing to protect him.

Our neighbours have already received the news and have started bringing gifts for the burial. Mum and Dad's friends start to arrive at our house. Women are keeping Mum occupied while the men are at the back with Uncle Malachi. He is Dad's older brother, who lives down here in Jerusalem. He arrived the moment he found out about Dad's death. He is a former soldier who lost his wife to illness a couple of years ago. His current life is a secret. I can only remember meeting him once when we came down to Jerusalem to pay our respects to him during his wife's death. His facial looks are exactly like Dad's but he has broader shoulders and muscly arms.

He and the men with him wash the body clean, dress it in ornament and wrap it with strips of white cloth, except the head. Finally, they wrap the whole body from head to toe with one big shroud. The body is now ready for burial. Unbeknown to me, a Levite is also with them, giving Uncle directions whenever he is unsure of the protocols. Others, including myself, are learning from the observation.

The procession to the tomb is long and loud, with mourners leading it. Dad's body is carried by men I've never seen before but I'm grateful for their help. I suppose that's what the Jewish culture is about; helping each other whether or not we've met. Inside the tomb, his body is placed onto a platform used for the body to decay naturally. The Levite chants the El Maleh Rachamim, a Memorial Prayer, as a huge stone is rolled to close off the tomb. The tune of the chant is familiar. His voice brings about tears to everyone's eyes, particularly to mine. I recall Dad singing the same chant at Malachi's wife's funeral. At the same time, Mum laments so loud that your soul can feel her pain. All the other women present join her weeping.

In Judaism, there are seven days of mourning. On the third and sixth day, women return to the tomb to pour more ointment over the deceased's body, which helps with the decaying process. After all the flesh has withered, the bones are collected into an ossuary and buried inside the tomb-wall.

Back home, I keep replaying in my head what I could have done to help Dad. I can't stop thinking about the sword coming through Dad's back. I can't stop thinking about his last word, 'Love!' What a way to die. He died telling me he loves me. That is how much love meant to him.

"Yudah?" For an instant, it sounded like Dad. It took a while for me to register; it was only Uncle Malachi.

"Yes, Uncle?" I enquire.

"Shall we start the Passover?" He has prepared everything for us. Mum did not have the energy to help. She spent the whole afternoon after the burial hiding in the sleeping quarters. Her friends and the many who were with us were asked to leave.

The goat is delicious. I come to join Uncle. The Passover should have been a grand celebration, but it has now ended up morbid and dark. I wonder if this omen has anything to do with the woman and her black goat or the men whom Dad met yesterday. What had Dad gotten himself involved in? What do I need to do to unveil the truth?

Uncle decides to sleep with us tonight. He will remain downstairs to sleep with the animals. I cannot sleep so I go downstairs to join Uncle Malachi. Unlike Dad, he's a snorer, but his snoring is soothing and hypnotising so that not long after, I fall asleep.

Suddenly, I am woken by a massive bang as if something has collided heavily. I open my eyes to see something hanging over me. I stare straight into the person's eyes and do not initially register what I'm seeing as I am still waking up. Mum's eyes are nearly popping out as she hangs in the air, suspended by the very rope I used for my sacrificial goat. Mum's body is lifeless. She is dead. I scream the most terrifying cry I have ever done in my entire life.
CHAPTER 8: Voices revealed

YESHUA

Our lambs aren't very much of a hassle as we carefully guide them to the Temple. Uncle Zeecha is wrong about the animals, there is no struggle at all in leading them. I wonder what other things he'll be wrong about today? It is fairly dark, but we can still see where to go. Luckily, we left home early before the sun even had the chance to peep out of the horizon, as the walk is long. The air is fresh and the dusty road is firm from the overnight dew. Dad and Uncle Zeecha have already gone ahead of us to stand in the queue, ready for our arrival.

The crowd is just starting to gather and the queue has started building up when we arrive. The Temple-guards have already supervised and managed the movement of people into the sacrificial queues. By now, the sun has finally crept up and the sky above has turned an ocean blue with no clouds in sight.

"John! Yeshua!" We both turn at the same time and spot Uncle Zeecha waving at us. I hand my lambs' leading rope to John, as I kneel to tie my sandals.

"Yeshua!" I hear someone else's familiar voice coming from behind John. It's high pitched, a female voice. I turn to see whether I am right.

"Yeshua!" The person calls out again. I see the outline of her figure as I lift my head, eyes straight into the sunlight behind her. From where I am looking, I am nearly certain that she is who I think she is. Ah-ha! The girl from Magdala. 'She remembers my name?' I blush as I hurriedly finish and stand up straight, wiping my dirty hands on my tunic.

"Shalom, Maria," I don't know how to respond. I first met her at one of the weddings in Magdala. We were invited because of Dad as he was the chief carpenter who built the newly wed's house, which was the brides' parents' gift. Maria is my age with a beautiful face and slender body. She is attractive.

"This is my cousin, John," I introduce them. John doesn't look impressed.

"Nice to meet you." John's response does not sound convincing. He can sometimes be misogynistic.

"Same here." I can tell that Maria is genuine. She looks shy too. Her hair is dark, silky, and loose, exposed to the elements. I think she looks beautiful. I cannot take my eyes off her. I find myself smiling as if meeting her has just made my day.

"So, what are you doing here?" I enquire.

"Oh, we're accompanying my brother to his first sacrifice." She replies. I can hear the excitement in her voice as if this means a lot to her and her brother. This is the longest we've had a proper conversation. Last time it was quick and straightforward.

"They are already standing in line," she pauses, looking for them to point out to me. "We'll be around in Jerusalem for the next few days as we are staying behind to celebrate the coronation of the new King." She sounds as if she's got a plan for us to hang out.

"My Dad is calling for us, Yeshua!" John interrupts.

"Sure." I give John a swift gaze. It's either he's jealous that I'm talking to a girl or that he's interested in getting his sacrifice over and done with, so he can get back to his rooftop espionage.

"I'm so sorry for bothering you two. Nice to see you again, Yeshua!" Maria takes off before I even have the chance to say goodbye.

I wait for her to be a fair distance away before blasting, "John?" I turn to him, looking disappointed. He's looking towards his father who's still calling out to us.

"Here. Come here." Uncle Zeecha yells and looks relieved to know that we've spotted him. He's been calling out for some time.

I shrug, still frustrated with John and start to take a step forward. Suddenly, a quick, strong wind blows aimed only at me, like a thick wall of air that strikes me and pushes me to the ground. I lose my balance and fall backwards onto my bottom, arms instinctively extending to the ground to hold me up. I have never experienced such a thing before in my life.

"Woahh!" I shriek. As I fall, I see John looking bewildered.

"What the flip was that Yeshua?" John is just as confused as I am. I have been thrown a few yards backwards.

I can see Dad coming running towards us. Uncle Zeecha is still in the queue. He quickly picks me up even before I have the chance to register what has just happened.

"Are you okay, son?" Dad sounds nervous as if he's afraid of something.

"Did you see something? Anyone?" Dad quickly asks without giving me a chance to answer his first question.

"No, Dad, I'm fine. There was no one!" I immediately clean the dust off me before Dad gets the chance to slap it off.

"Stay alert son!" Dad commands. He can be very protective but sometimes too protective of me. He and Mum are always protective. Perhaps it's to do with me being the youngest son.

"Are you sure you didn't see anyone or anything?" Dad quickly queries. Dad is more mystified as I thought and perhaps he's experienced something similar before.

"I'm fine, Dad," I reassure him. The drama still shakes John as we approach Uncle Zeecha.

"What was that, Yeshua?" Uncle Zeecha asks but is not interested in my response. He's more interested in the instructions for the sacrificial duty we are about to participate in. He is pedantic about rituals and procedures, and we must get these right. That's what I love about him, and he's very liturgical, one part completed after another.

John and I go in straightforward, thanks to Uncle Zeecha for standing in the queue. At the base of the steps are three Kohen, each carrying out their designated responsibility. Nerves suddenly overwhelm me, a feeling I've never felt before. My breathing rapidly increases, and my heart starts pumping faster. My face starts to go numb and my mind is worrying about what's going on with my body. John is standing behind me, followed by others who've now formed a queue. I turn to look back, wanting to tell him what I'm going through. He just smiles back, oblivious to the feelings that are consuming me. Suddenly I can hear whispers, the voices in my head, slowly coming back. I hand my lamb to the waiting Kohen and can't help recalling the terrible dream I had a couple of nights ago. It is like déjà vu; I've been here before. It's like a replay of a future I've already seen. Just to be sure that I indeed see the future, I slowly look to my right, and just like my dream, Simon is there with his father. Neither he nor I saw each other earlier. I must have been so distracted by the wind-attack that I had forgotten about the dream. Is this even real? Can I see the future?

"My Beloved Son!" A voice finally speaks, as clear as the skies above.

I shake my head, hoping desperately that this is a nasty nightmare. It isn't.

"I am very pleased with you!" The sound is more eloquent than the dream. The experience is surreal.

I see a man standing in front of me, dressed in a white tunic, the brilliance of light behind him phases out the natural world around us. It is as if I have entered another world. His gentle square face is no different from any other Jew, with a three-inch long brown beard and long wavy brown hair. He's of brown skin, and his physique is like that of a warrior: muscular, athletic and powerful. Around his waist is a golden belt adorned by silvery decorations, holding a sword of blazing fire. The fire isn't hot or consuming anything. The sword is spectacular to the eyes. On his feet he wears simple brown sandals, like mine, with strings that tie around his legs up to his knees.

"Emmanuel!" He says. His deep thundery voice makes me quiver to my spine. Mum and Dad call me that sometimes, but I have told them not to as it's confusing. I haven't been called by that name for quite a long time.

"Be not afraid," he implores.

"You still have a lot to learn," he continues, but this time speaking more casually and relaxed. We are all alone, still at the base of the steps. No one is around, not even the priests.

"I know you're confused at what is happening right now," he reaffirms.

I clear my throat and ask, "Yeah, I am a bit confused...Umm... so...Who are you? How do you know my name?" His casual conversational approach has worked.

He pauses to study my face.

"You should know by now that you're a special child. I have looked over you and protected you from the moment you were in your mother's womb," he adds.

"My name is Gabr," he introduces himself and tells me that he comes from another dimension of the universe and that he can travel through any dimension. According to him, there is only one universe, but it consists of three dimensions, all co-existing at the same time. The laws of space and time govern the first dimension. Everything here exists relative to everything else. Nothing exists without another. Animals exist because of the environment they are in, and vice versa. These have laws to maintain the balance in the cycle of nature. The cycle of nature is under the laws of space and time. All other laws in this dimension are also determined by space and time.

Similarly, the body cannot exist without the soul and the soul without the body. The difference between the body and the soul is that the soul is created in the third dimension. It then travels to inherit a body the moment a couple makes love with each other. That moment of lovemaking allows the universe to warp and for angelic beings to transport souls from the third dimension into the first. Angels release the soul to then find a physical body in which to grow. The womb is its first taste of humanity. The soul remains unchanged while the body continues to develop and find meaning in life.

At the moment of death, an angel meets the soul again to guide it into the second dimension. The laws of energy govern this dimension. There is only one reason for a soul to depart a body; when the development of the body ceases to continue. As the soul moves on to its next dimension, it leaves behind everything else in the first: it's identity, memory, and the laws of space and time. Unlike the first dimension where the body dictates a soul's world, in the second dimension, the soul dictates its own world. The previous life lived by the soul brings with it energy, to assist in creating its world here.

The soul is an individual entity; it exists on its own with no other souls to interact with. The soul has a choice to move on to the third and final dimension – an eternal existence of peace. The third dimension is governed by the laws of love, the happiness of the soul at its perfection. In this dimension, souls can move freely but are limited by the angelic hosts. Only the angels can transport souls between dimensions. Whenever lovemaking happens, the laws of time and space warp the universe, allowing the souls to move freely between dimensions and for the angels to start their transportation. This is the cycle of life. All three dimensions and the laws that govern them, work together as one existence to balance the universe; three in one and one in three.

Gabr then requests that I walk up the steps with him. I am reluctant at first but eventually give in as there is no one around. He continues giving me information that does not make any sense, as if utter nonsense. I just listen. He goes on to tell me how humans are unique because they create other humans and, at the same time, harbour souls. Souls provide a balance to the laws of each dimension and the laws give balance to the production of the souls – the harmony that keeps the universe in balance. He continues to point out that the body is a process of becoming, that being born is not a static moment, and neither is death. Birth is dying from something old, as much as dying is being born into something new. The soul belongs to the universe and the universe to the soul. The universe has no meaning without the soul and vice versa. For this reason, the two must always be kept in balance. Gabr points out that he appears to me by opening the world I govern with the laws of space and time. Therefore, I am the only one who will see, communicate and travel with him, no one else - unless I allow it to happen. He points out that I have more abilities than I can ever imagine. I am still yet to learn more.

When we reach the top, we enter through the huge entranceway through to the inner Temple court. An altar sits between where we are standing at the entrance to the Holy of Holies. He shows me the blood of the lamb, spilled all over the altar.

"This practice is going to be replaced by something greater," he points out. He then directs me to enter the Holy of Holies. We slowly make our way through the enormous doors. These gracefully open before us, inviting us inside.

"Take your sandals off before entering," Gabr has already taken his off. Gabr then points out that taking our sandals off is important to the physical body. Our bare feet allow us to connect with the earth below. The connection of the feet with the earth is an energy source to the soul. Much in the same way as listening to the beautiful sounds of nature, watching a stunning sunset and a graceful moonrise are energy sources to the soul.

As we enter, the ceiling soars to coincide with the tower seen from the outside. The space above opens the room into a gigantic chamber. At the centre of the room are four rounded pillars made of white marble, about 12 feet high, enclosing a square section. The pillars are simple, with no decorations or carvings of any kind. Curtains run down each side to enclose all the pillars, forming a room. This is called the Tabernacle. In front of each side of the Tabernacle is a golden menorah, a seven-branched candlestick with scented candles lit to give a beautiful smell to the entire tower.

I slowly walk all around the Tabernacle, amazed at the privilege and the opportunity to be in such a place. Gabr starts walking in the opposite direction.

"The world should have been doomed by now but bringing you into it has saved the world from its destruction!" Gabr's voice shivers.

"I have always wanted to tell you that you're special because the truth is, you're my son." I can hear Gabr speak from the other side. It sounds as if he's stopped walking.

"I don't understand. You're my father?" I call out. My voice echoes through the emptiness.

"Yes. I appeared to both of your parents, in the same way I am appearing to you now and showed them the Tabernacle and the destruction of the world if no one steps in to help," he adds.

"Your mother followed me into the Tabernacle while your father remained outside," Gabr continues. I find him staring at the Tabernacle curtain as I make my way towards him. He then makes his way towards the curtain and I instinctively follow. As he opens it, my feet start to shake as I realise I am standing before the universe. As we enter, a brilliant light swiftly moves and overcomes us.

"Yeshua?" John calls from behind. "Are you alright?" He asks.

I turn around, speechless, and nod.

"How long have I've been staring?" I ask back.

John chuckles, "How long? Like 10 seconds? I don't know. You looked like you were still daydreaming about that Maria girl," He makes sarcastic comments sometimes.

I look over to see Simon, who is now looking at me. I give him a chin up gesture, and he does the same back and smiles.

By the time we get home it is afternoon. We are exhausted and want to go for a nap however, Aunty Liz tells us we must prepare the meat. She then queries whether we have heard of the man killed at the Temple. We haven't, and it may have happened after we left. News travels fast by mouth around here. No one knows if it was murder or an accident. Accidents happens all the time, and people die from playing around with swords. The deceased only had one son and he's from Galilee, well-known to the religious leaders and Prince Antipas.

The upper room has been prepared by Aunty and Mum, all ready for tonight. All the men spend the rest of the afternoon preparing the meat while the women cook the stew for the Passover.

The evening is fun, filled with laughter. During the Passover prayers, I make a couple of mistakes in my chant, but Mum does not mind. She never does. Her mantra is to always be kind, even when others do you wrong. The evening is also about kindness. Everyone just laughs and enjoys each other's company. I forgot that we drink a lot of wine at every Passover. I think I'm drunk.

Mum didn't drink as she's carrying. I have underestimated the impact of wine on one's head. By the time I go to bed, my head is heavy. John's family had fun too, which I could tell by the laughter I heard from downstairs.

"Yeshua?" John whispers quietly and wakes me up. My head is heavy and now spinning. I'm failing to think straight. My eyes refuse to open.

"Hmm," I do not want to wake up. I turn around to the other side and cover my head with my bedsheet.

"Pst! Yeshua!" John isn't going to give up. It's either I give in or I tell him off.

"What time is it? Is the sun up?" I'm buying more sleep-in time with my questions.

"No, I think it's just before the roosters start to crow!" John isn't apologetic.

"Yeshua, get up! You need to see this!" He starts to shake me to wake me up.

Initially I am frustrated with John's venture but as I make my way up to the rooftop, I can see what the fuss is all about.

"Wow!" The surprise in my voice is apparent.

"What is it? I ask.

I look at him and continue, "I never saw this last night when we were up here for the Passover."

"Wait - Have you been to sleep at all?" I suddenly change my question out of concern for John.

"Don't worry about me," he is quick to ignore my question.

"This is not a good sign, Yeshua!" he continues.

Each rooftop with the unusual signage we saw yesterday, is now lit up with a bonfire. It appears that people are gathered around it too. We quickly agree to go and have a closer look at one to see what's happening. The full moon is high in the sky on this clear night, illuminating everything. The air is chilly and still. John leads the way as he's more familiar jumping his way around the roof-highway. We are expecting the noise to increase as we come closer to a bonfire, but nothing. Absolute silence! We carefully make our way forward and one rooftop away from the bonfire we sneak behind some crates. We peep to see the action. This time, we can see people clearly sitting around their bonfire. Now and then, someone stands up, jumps over the fire and returns to sit down. No words are uttered, and no noise is made.

"This is not a good sign!" John whispers to me.

"They are summoning the Angel Samael," he continues.

"How do you know that? They are not praying or saying anything," I whisper.

"Prayer is not always about uttering meaningless words ... It's also about action," John is quick to correct me.

"When they jump over the fire, they are cutting through the laws of energy, the doorway to another world, where the spirit of Angel Samael dwells. This will then provide an opportunity for the Angel to enter our world," John sounds confident.

The talk about another world is similar to what Gabr told me, and I want to correct John and tell him about my experience at the Temple. Every time he talks about another world, I am tempted to tell him it's called a dimension.

"How would you react if I told you that I met a man named Gabr yesterday at the Temple who told me about the three dimensions in the universe, showed me inside the Tabernacle, and told me that he's my father?" My question to John is an understatement of precisely what I experienced.

"What?" John gives me a shocked look.

"I met a man named Gabr..." I start again.

"I heard you the first time, Yeshua... But, I can't understand how that's possible for three reasons. One \- I was with you the whole time. Two – you're not allowed to enter the Holy of Holies, let alone walk up the steps and three - you must have had too much wine cause you're still dreaming." John reiterates.

"Oh yeah. It's difficult to explain because I went..." I continue. John interrupts, grabbing my mouth to shut me up, "Shhh!"

As we quickly sneak our heads back, we see a person's shadow cast over us. Someone has spotted a commotion at the crates and has decided to investigate. John spots the entrance to the room downstairs and creeps hurriedly towards it. My heart instantly pumps faster from adrenaline and I follow. John cautiously makes his way down the steps, head first, but I come in too fast and crash into his legs, sending him flying down the wooden stairs. I hear a massive thump as he comes to a halt. At the same time, a cat screeches and jumps upwards, escaping the rooftop entrance, passes my traumatised face and runs towards the crates. My head peeps down, gazing hastily, looking for John.

"John?" I whisper loudly.

"Are you okay?" I continue. The shadow has now disappeared, possibly tricked into thinking that the noise was only a cat.

"I'm fine...I'll be coming up soon," comes the response. He has no idea how glad I am to hear his voice.

The house is empty. It's rare to have a house with no one in, especially at this time of the year in Jerusalem. Perhaps they are part of the bonfire celebration. John pops up unharmed and continues behind the crates as if nothing has happened. I move in swiftly to join him.

"So, what do we do now?" I enquire about the next move.

John turns around to the bonfire and, at the same time, whispers, "We just observe." I instinctively turn with him, too, and end up looking straight into the face of another man. The shock on our faces is nothing compared to the screeching cat earlier.

Immediately, John jumps, disappearing behind me. I instantly follow as the man suddenly calls out for us to stop running. From his facial expression, he didn't seem friendly. John is a fast runner. I'm already trying to catch my breath. He's jumping from one roof to another like a speeding cat. The moon is just rising, casting enough light for our escape.

Luckily, he's ahead as I follow his roof jumping step, knowing exactly where he's landed. If he falls, I'll be following behind; I'm glad he is going well so far. John takes us away from our house, a smart move, but where exactly are we going I wonder? Only three yards ahead of me, John heads towards an opening on a roof, the perfect opportunity for us to catch our breath. He jumps through it, and I can hear people screaming from inside. The house occupiers are most likely shocked by the invader. I stop and turn around to see the chaser. He's standing behind me. Inside the house, as I peep down, John is caught and now tied up. He didn't scream, probably tired from the escape. I did not have a chance to scream for help. I am caught, my mouth covered, and told to remain calm. The man ties me up and carries me on his shoulders.

The journey is short and painful as my stomach bounces over his hard shoulder bones. He drops me to the floor like a bag of vegetables. The fall isn't as painful as the journey and I'm pleased for it to be over. He quickly unties my hands, opens the sack covering my head, and immediately leaves before I can see who he is. I am left all alone in a room, decently lit by scented candles and with neatly decorated curtains hanging against the walls.

"Yeshua of Nazareth," a voice comes from the front of the room, but I can't see the person. My name is one of the most common names in Israel. These names are labelled by indicating the person's city of origin.

"Where's my friend John?" I ask, still catching my breath as the adrenaline hasn't worn off.

"Your friend is fine," and this time, the voice enters the light: His Excellency, the High Priest Boethius. I am confused. What is this about?

"Your Excellency," I address him, bowing down to the ground, not knowing if this makes any sense.

"I'm sorry to have met you like this," he reveals.

"You and I both know you have a special gift that you have kept secret for a while." He stares straight at me as he says it. He means every word.

"What do you mean?" I ask, pretending I did not understand.

"We have been told that you're a sorcerer," he elaborates. Then he continues, "And that you are being hunted by Prince Antipas to be killed. His men are everywhere in Jerusalem as we speak. They attempted to kill you with a viper snake but instead your father got caught in the plot. They attempted to kidnap you, but our men managed to find and intercept. Your presence before me is for your own protection. His Majesty, King Philip has ordered that you be kept safe. By morning, your parents will be informed of our protection plan. They will be asked to take separate trips back to Nazareth. One to head around the coastal route and the other to go through Samaria City. By the time Antipas and his men realise, we will have smuggled you out of Jerusalem to somewhere safe, possibly out east or Greece. No one will know of your whereabouts but your parents."

I don't have time to think. All the things he's telling me are too much for me to comprehend. I cannot believe that the Prince is wanting to kill me. This is worse than my terrible dreams.

"East? Where? Greece?" I examine Boethius' face as I ask.

"Where's John?" I suddenly change the focus from talking about me.

"He's fine... He's being held in the dungeon downstairs. He's going to be transported soon to King Philip. John is an interesting character." Boethius continues.

'Tell me about it,' I think to myself.

"John is somehow convinced of some sort of messengers of Angel Samael and that Israel is damned if we don't release him," Boethius adds.

'Typical John,' I think. He's always saying things for the sake of Israel. I wonder if he even asked how I'm doing. I also can't help but wonder why Antipas' men want me dead. What did I do to deserve such a fate?

"So, are you a sorcerer?" The High Priest expresses his reservation.

"I suppose you can say that," I respond and continue.

"Yes, I have gifts to heal the sick, raise dead animals to life and travel to the future."

"Really?" Boethius sounds skeptical.

"Did you see the future where you'd be kidnapped or killed?" he adds.

I don't know how to respond to that. I just sit there staring at him, speechless.

"I guess I have to take your word that you are a sorcerer," he continues.

The morning came quickly but my eyes could barely stay awake. The High Priest interrogated me with so many questions. The two things I kept secret were Gabr and the voices. I had failed to try and convince John of these and he was the least of my problems. I wasn't going to try and do the same thing with the High Priest. Anyway, what if he's lying to me? Do I really trust him?

"You're going to be transported to King Philip before everyone wakes up. You can rest there... Guards!" A Temple-guard appears and snatches me out of the High Priests house before anyone else notices. At the King's palace, he throws me into a simple room, better than what I have at home, with two raised single beds and tells me to stay put until someone comes in.

"Yeshua!" John stands up from behind one of the beds and rushes over to give me the biggest hug. The huge smile across his face and the relief in his eyes are welcoming gestures I didn't expect.

"What did they do to you? Are you okay? Where did they take you? What's going on?" He bombards me with unending questions.

"I was with the High Priest Boethius. He said that Prince Antipas wants me dead and right now, we are under house arrest to keep me safe with King Philip," I try to be as brief as I can.

"What we're with King Philip? Do you trust the High Priest? What if he lied to you?" John intervenes.

Footsteps can be heard coming through the hallway to our room. A man enters. John and I look at each other confused and wonder what exactly is going on.

"Shalom boys. My name is Malachi, and I belong to a group dedicated to protecting the universe through pure knowledge. We saw you being kidnapped and intercepted John's captive. It took us a while to figure out Yeshua's location, but we had to send someone who pretended to be a Temple-guard to save you." He sits down on the chair by the bed to regain his breath.

"We believe that one of you is a special boy and that my brother was trying to find you before he got killed, murdered by Prince Antipas' men," he continues.

John looks straight at me while I gaze into Malachi's eyes, puzzled about the whole situation. 'What's going on?' I wonder.
CHAPTER 9: The Prince is coming

PHILIP

I don't slow down in expressing my disappointment, "How could you possibly lose him when you've just captured him, Papa?" I explode as I pace the dining room. The decorative column with fauna plants dangling down shakes as it senses the anger coming from my breath.

"How can you send a servant last night to tell me you've got them, only to deliver a contradicting message this morning, yourself?" I explode. I feel as if I've gone crazy.

The High Priest is standing there apologetic and motionless. He is possibly shocked, too, as he states, "I only found out this morning that someone impersonated one of my guards and took Yeshua after I finished talking to him."

"Oh, so you've interrogated the boy already?" I blurt out.

"And what information did he provide?" I add. I quickly sit down at the dining table, distraught by the news, and refuse to look at Boethius.

"Who is responsible for this?" I ask.

"Could it be your half-brother?" Whenever Grandpa answers with a question, you know that he doesn't have an answer.

The assumption is plausible. There is only one way to find out. Wait for the corpses to appear, if my brother is going to kill them, he will leave them to be discovered. That's if my brother is responsible. We are just blaming him because he's the only one we know who wants Yeshua dead.

"Your Majesty! I do have a plan to fix this," Grandpa suddenly brightens up. He is a priest and therefore, typically has a strategic approach to any issue. He's talked to Yeshua, so he knows what he's after and how to deliver.

"Do you realise Papa, that the last time we met, in this very room, you wanted the boy dead!" I sound rude. I don't mean to. I am just upset that Yeshua slipped out of our hands. I have been planning on protecting him – in a selfish way, more like protecting myself. I'm worried that he's with Prince Antipas and potentially dead by now. What can I do to save the boy?

Boethius walks over to sit opposite me, extends his hands, sliding them across the table as if reaching out to me to give me comfort. "Your Majesty! We need to approach Yeshua's parents and explain to them the whole situation. We need to tell them about our protection plan and that we saved them from a mob on the rooftop after the boys snuck out. Then, explain to them about Antipas and his desire to kill Yeshua. Tell them about the snake that Antipas planted. Give them as much information as they need to believe us. They will! I am certain, Your Majesty! They are the only ones who can help us."

My mind struggles to keep up with Grandpa's plan. How can I see the legitimacy in his suggestion when Yeshua disappeared through his negligence?

"Your Excellency," I address my Grandpa more formally. I want him to know that I am dead serious. He knows that this is how I behave when business becomes business.

"I want you to carry on with your plans of informing Yeshua's parents. Send a messenger to invite them into your home. Hold the conversation at your house to not draw any suspicion from the public..." I still haven't finished speaking when I see a pigeon messenger fly to my bedroom. I call out to the High Priest to wait for me as I rush to the room to check the message. Once opened it says, "In the valleys of Jerusalem, the ravens look for eyes to pluck and vultures for prey to consume."

"Oh, no!" I gasp and rush back to the dining hall.

'What? Where's Papa?' I suddenly rush out of the palace to look for him to tell him that we have more problems on our shoulders. He is nowhere to be found. Where can he be?

I come back to my throne, pondering about the message I've just received. What could this be? Why is this happening now? Are our suspicions correct? Is my half-brother really behind the disappearance of Yeshua?

I re-visit the note in my head, "In the valleys of Jerusalem, the ravens look for eyes to pluck and vultures for prey to consume." This is a scripture text from the Ketuvim books, the Wisdom books. It means that my half-brother, the raven, Prince Antipas, is on his way to Jerusalem. He's on his way to destroy someone. I can't help but wonder, 'Could it be Yeshua? Could it be me? Could it be both of us?'

Clap! Clap! The servant always does his clapping duty with honour. He stands up straight and yells, "General Josheb is here." I jolt. It is louder than expected. I did not see him come in. The noise wakes me up from my worries. That's right! Today is the weekly audience with the King, the Yom Shishi, the sixth day in the Jewish calendar, but Friday according to the Roman calendar, the day before the Sabbath. The room slowly fills with guests as the servant introduces them one by one into the room. I am only interested in seeing one person – Grandpa! Everyone knows each other, so they intuitively start mingling and talking with one another. No one dares to bother me as I busy myself with the worries of a King. 'Perhaps the High Priest went somewhere in preparation for this gathering?' My mind refuses to slow down, and by now, my anxiety has risen to an uncontrollable level.

"Right," I jump out of my chair.

"What do you have to present to me? Can someone please update me about whatever, anything that would be pleasing to me." Everyone looks at me as if I've just ruined their catchup.

"How did yesterday's Passover event at the Temple go?" My voice is starting to rise from my anxiety.

Everyone looks around, waiting for a representative from the Temple, presumably, the High Priest. A soft murmur erupts amongst the guests as they decide whether to respond to my request or not.

"I'm here, Your Majesty!" I can see hands from the back of the room waving. The servant doesn't have the chance to introduce him as he bolts into the room. Finally! He is here.

"The Passover sacrifice went smoothly. A minor incident happened yesterday, an accident leading to the death of a man, but I wouldn't want you worrying too much about the details," he continues.

"Enlighten us," I react.

Grandpa scans the room to see if this is the right place to talk about it. I want him to speak, whatever the details may be.

"I do not know the exact details, but the man involved was known to a number of Levites, good friends with some Kohen, but most importantly, had been hired by Prince Antipas," his voice drops as he finishes his sentence. He looks at me as if initiating a conspiracy.

Everyone listens intently, not knowing how to react. He continues, saying that the King's coronation in a few days should be the focus of our discussion today. He is talented at changing the subject to distract others from asking nosy questions. He makes me look good through the encouragement he presents before my audience, the generals, ministers and guests.

Accolades are essential not only for my confidence but also for demonstrating confidence to my ministers, advisors and generals. I need people to trust me and to support me. A Kingdom that lasts is a Kingdom supported by its followers. Thanks to Grandpa, discussion switches from the fatality to my coronation. Everyone present has so much to offer regarding the details of their responsibilities for the coronation; the security, the ceremony, the procession, the feasting and the celebration itself. The general discussions go smoother and quicker than expected. My mind is distracted, momentarily. I still want to catch up with Grandpa after everyone has gone.

As people start to depart, only a handful of people are left scattered across the room when I see a Kohen, accompanied by a Temple-guard, walk over to Boethius and whisper into his ear. Instantly, his eyes brighten, and his head lifts. What is he up to? Where did he go to earlier? The High Priest slowly bows to the Kohen, and as they leave, he makes his way towards me, presumably expecting a private chat. I have been busy talking with General Josheb to organise the security, particularly during the coronation procession.

"I'm told that your half-brother Prince Antipas is on his way to Jerusalem?" He speaks without showing confusion or shock. It seems that he is pleased with such news.

"I already know that," I am confidently pretending that I am not bothered by such news. His facial reaction to my response is one of surprise as he studies my body language.

"And I've invited him to stay with me," I lie. He seems to take the bait.

"I'm interested in finding out where you went after I left you in the dining hall this morning?" I am desperate to know what he's going to tell me.

He looks around to see if anyone else is listening, then continues, "I can't talk about that here, Your Majesty. Can we go somewhere else to talk?"

"Follow me," I say. The moment I stand up to leave, everyone else present stands straight to acknowledge my movement in the room, bowing as I come past them. I take Grandpa to my father's favourite garden outside. I hope to find peace here too, the same way father did. I walk around the fountain while Grandpa stands back at the statue of Venus, overlooking the grounds.

"Did you know that every time my father came here, he thought about my mother?" I speak softly, almost emotional.

As I make my way to the end of the pool, I turn around and continue, "He believed that Venus, the Roman Goddess of Love, is central to keeping balance in the world. They say a man is the centre of the universe. Well – father disagreed. He believed that love is the centre of the universe."

The High Priest is slowly pacing towards me, enthralled by the information I'm giving him.

"Miriamne was King Herod's universe," I pause and turn around.

I gaze back at him and continue, "This is the only place where I feel close to my parents when I am lost."

"My son!" Grandpa runs towards me to hug me, grabbing my arms as I stand there without any reflex. I think he meant to say, 'grandson,' but being called a son by someone whom you love, pierces the heart, metaphorically speaking. It stirs up emotions that bring meaning to your life.

"If you're thinking anything otherwise, about me, please rest assured that you are the most important person to me. Your search for Yeshua is also my search. Your happiness and your pain are mine too. I wouldn't be doing anything to sabotage our family," Grandpa starts to become emotional as he speaks.

"Papa!" I say. I can be emotional, but at this time, no emotion overcomes me.

"I don't have anything against you. I'm worried about my life, our lives, and the only person who can fix things is this boy, Yeshua," I speak as if I'm already a man, even though I'm not much older than the kid. Then, I continue, "We can use the boy to make a peace treaty with Antipas."

Grandpa stares straight into my eyes, "My boy, you're scared, and I understand. A great King is one who is fearless, but a fearless King or not, you're still my grandson. I have been busy trying to organise your coronation. While you were busy this morning, I decided to go and see Yeshua's parents as you instructed." He has grabbed my absolute attention.

He then goes on, "I found out that they were living with John's parents too. John is Yeshua's cousin, kidnapped along with the boy.

"What? You had two boys kidnapped? You only told me about Yeshua and not that there was another kid involved!" I explode. I don't know whether to be upset or not but Grandpa lifts his hand to shut me up. He then continues, "I have invited the boys' parents here to the palace to spend the afternoon with you for dinner. I would like you to welcome them as your guests as we try to find the boys. I am hoping that you will explain the protection plans. We will also ask the public to help us. You are the King. If the people find out that you've helped save the boys, you will be winning the people's trust." No one has ever given me great advice except Grandpa.

"We will also put the word out that Antipas wants to murder the boys with the hope of developing a distaste towards Antipas from the public." He looks tired as he gives a huge sigh.

I look at him, impressed with everything he's done today, all for me and my ascension to the throne.

Grandpa gives me a Roman kiss on both cheeks and turns to leave. He then pauses and recalls, "I'm told that Prince Antipas is on his way, more reason for you to occupy the guest house so that he cannot stay here. Send a message to the Roman Consulate to see if they can accommodate your half-brother. Otherwise, send a message ahead to Antipas, to inform him that the accommodation reserved for royal guests next to the Temple western wall is where he will live. You and I both know that he will probably decide to stay with the Consulate as he hates the royal guest house. We'll wait for his decision." He turns again and departs.

Before the garden meeting with Grandpa, I initially thought that he was responsible for losing the boys, that he had a mega plan of getting rid of Yeshua as he pushed at the beginning. It seems, however, that I may have been mistaken. Perhaps he is telling the truth. Perhaps he doesn't want Yeshua dead but instead believes me that this boy holds the key to my survival and my Kingdom. How am I going to accommodate Yeshua's parents? What am I going to say to them about their son? How are we ever going to find the boy? How will Antipas react if he finds out that I've housed some paupers in the guest house rather than him?

All these questions are left unanswered. I need to work through them one by one. In a few days' time is my coronation, and I want to be in the right headspace before I am officially crowned King of Judea. Why is my brother coming? Whom does he intend to eradicate? Yeshua or me?
CHAPTER 10: Houseguests

YUDAH

I scream at the top of my voice, not knowing exactly what I'm doing. I cry because that's how my body is coping with the shocking experience. My mother is hanging there, my rope around her neck, dead. I can't slow myself down as my cry seems to explode beyond the surrounding neighbourhood. After a few long, loud seconds, I knock myself unconscious. I have run out of air from all the intense screaming.

As I wake up, shocked with my surroundings, I kick and jolt into reality. I am in another house, unsure as to what has happened earlier. It's now late in the morning, but the bed I'm in is very comfortable. It's of a classic design as it is high and built on four legs, just like the tables and chairs. Convenient. The place is beautifully decorated with huge windows, the size of doors, sitting wide open, inviting inside the gentle cool breeze. Creamy, silky curtains blow soothingly against the walls and pot plants hang on columns, with pants dangling their way down to the floor. As I gaze outside, I can see the western wall of the Temple and the bright, white marble Holy of Holies rising into the heavens. Suddenly, against the curtains, a man's silhouette moves. I shrug to wake myself up properly.

"Uncle Malachi? Is that you?" Initially, I don't want to say anything, but I must. I want to know what happened to Mum.

The figure enters the room through the windows, shoving the curtains out of his way, with his face showing great concern for me. He then says, "Have you rested well, my boy?" I nod back as he steps fully into the room. I don't know what to think apart from being grateful for being here and looked after.

"Thanks for all of this Uncle," I gasp as I struggle to find my voice. What has happened to me? I feel like someone else.

Uncle Malachi makes his way towards my bed and I quickly sit up and move to give him space to sit next to me.

"What happened to me, Uncle?" My voice sounds ugly as I struggle to create a sentence. He grabs a cup of water next to my bed and gives it to me to drink.

"What happened to Mum?" I continue speaking without giving him a chance to talk.

"Shhh!" He quickly stops me.

"I don't know how to say this any better. Your mother couldn't handle the pain she'd suffered and thought it would be best that she leave this world to join your father. She was a woman who had lost her world. That does not mean you can lose yours too. On the contrary, you should prove to yourself that you are in control of your world." Uncle Malachi is a wise man. I don't know much about him, but with the times ahead that we are going to spend with each other, I may eventually learn more.

"I brought you here while we are preparing your mother's body for her funeral. She will be laid together with your father. This must be done quickly as tomorrow is Yom Shabbat. I will be going out for a bit today. We have two guests with us, so please make them feel welcome. I'll be back to get you for the funeral." He stands up and goes to leave.

I have so much information to digest. I can't stop thinking that already it's Yom Shabbat, the Sabbath day, the holiest day of the week, where no heavy labour or work is permitted. The day is sacred to allow people to take a break from the busyness of life. Resting is part of life and therefore, taking one day off a week to have a break is integrated into the fabric of people's lives. I shrug to remind myself not to daydream too much.

"Uncle?" I hurriedly call out. He turns without saying anything.

"Can I not attend the funeral, please?" I ask, while staring out towards the Temple. I can't handle being there anymore as I've just attended Dad's funeral. I want him to realise that attending Mum's funeral is probably too much for me.

He quickly smiles. "Okay, son," Uncle Malachi doesn't object. He leaves without saying anything else.

On the bench is a bowl of water for the morning wash, so I quickly wipe myself clean, put on a fresh tunic, belt and sandals, ready to explore the property which is surrounded by a wall. The place looks like a palace, a royal residence of some sort as there are a couple of houses around. Uncle lives in one of the three biggest with guards everywhere. 'What's Uncle Malachi up to?' I wonder. 'Oh, that's right, he is a former military.' I am starting to daydream again, so I decide to walk around the property. I meet only guards who stand in position. I quickly make my way back to our house as I remember that we have guests. As I wander through the hallway, I come across a room with one guard standing at the doorway. There are no doors to each room but rather a thick canvas curtain, made of cotton, to provide privacy. No one can see through, and the windy breeze isn't strong enough to blow a gap to peep through. I quickly walk towards it but the guard stands in front to stop me.

"No one is allowed in sir," the guard says.

"I'm Malachi's nephew, and he told me to come and say hello to our guests," I introduce myself with curiosity.

"No one is allowed in, sir!" This time he speaks with authority. I just gaze at the curtain, wondering what is unique about the room, then leave. I could hear people talking inside but couldn't recognise the voices. As I come around the corner, I can hear someone come out of the room. I quickly hide behind one of the pot-plant columns standing nearby.

"Your nephew came in a couple of minutes ago looking to say hello to the guests," I notice the guard's voice. 'Is he talking to my Uncle?' I wonder.

"Don't worry about him. He'll be meeting them later in the evening. I need you to go and prepare the woman's body. Our sacrifice is tonight, on this first night of the Shabbat." Yes, that's my Uncle's voice. I stay hidden as they come past me to leave the property. I recall them mentioning the first night of the Shabbat, which starts at the sunset of Friday. A Jewish day begins at sundown and ends the following evening. However, a Roman day starts at midnight and ends at midnight the next day. Hence why my Mum's funeral must take place before sunset because Shabbat begins.

I want to see who these guests are and try to ask them what they are doing here, so I swiftly move to peep back down the hallway, looking for a guard at the room. Good news, no one. I hastily move, not looking at anyone or anything; the aim is to enter that curtain to see who's behind it. Hesitation suddenly dawns on me. 'What if it's someone I'm not supposed to see? What if they kill me?' My thoughts keep playing so many different scenarios. There is only one way to find out. I must go inside.

As I enter, I notice a familiar face who says, "Shalom!" I can't believe my eyes!

"Yeshua?" I blurt out, looking confused.

"Yudah!" He also looks confused. I stand for a while, speechless at the whole situation. He is standing with another boy a similar age to us.

"What are you two doing here?" I ask.

Yeshua chuckles and replies, "I think we both know that the one who needs to explain everything is you. What are you doing here?" He points at me when he says 'you,' as if he's blaming me for the whole situation they've gotten themselves into. I just glare at him as he continues, "How come you can just come in here as if you own this place..."

He hasn't finished speaking when I intervene, "Yeah, my Uncle owns it!"

"What? You're related to Malachi?" He erupts!

"Hold on you two! You argue like girls!" The other boy interrupts our argument.

"Shalom! I'm John, and I'm Yeshua's cousin," he introduces himself. A calmer person than Yeshua. He continues by telling me that they were kidnapped by the High Priest Boethius while they were snooping around on the rooftops. Then, his Uncle saved them and brought them here for their safety. I don't know what to say in response. All of this doesn't make any sense. John and Yeshua both sit down on a bed while I remain standing.

"I'm as mystified as you are about the whole thing," I explain, walking towards the huge window that overlooks the Mount of Temples. It received such a name because ancient gods who handed down ancient rituals once resided here. They still do. Not that we can tell. I have information, but I do not know whether I should share it with them or not. Instantly, I wrestle with myself whether to convey any sensitive information.

I finally continue, "I heard my Uncle say something that's baffled me."

They suddenly give me a gaze of interest.

"There is a woman's body and a sacrifice happening tonight!" I finally reveal, followed by a long silent pause. 'Did I do the right thing,' I think to myself.

"That's it!" John shouts, immediately standing up and giving a few huge claps of excitement. The bewilderment on Yeshua's face and mine are beyond explanation.

"That's it, guys! Your Uncle is part of the Angel Samael's members! He's going to offer a sacrifice using the woman's body. Tradition says that she must be a virgin, a young woman who can conceive a child. She will be offered to the spirit of the Angel Samael." John walks around the room as he speaks, full of excitement at his revelation. Then he halts, staring straight at me.

"There's one problem," his voice sinks and then he continues, "Tradition also states that a male child's blood is used to fill a golden cup. Then it is poured on the altar of sacrifice before the virgin's body is laid."

Yeshua and I observe John as he paces around the room educating us. He goes on to say that his father taught him Jewish theology, teachings about God, the one and only YHWH. However, amid his learning, he discovered ancient Hellenistic rituals and religion. For them, there are many gods and their gods participate in the realities of the universe.

He adds, "They believe that originally, the gods lived as many gods in one universe. They existed without change, cause, movement, and purpose. They just simply existed. It was, so to say, a boring existence. Then, they decided to separate the universe into three levels and the gods each decided which level they would exist in. Some gods decided to live in the first world while others existed in the second. Only one god remained within the third level. All the gods who dispersed into the other two levels became engrained in the governance of that world. Those who lived in the first world governed the laws of space and time and..."

Suddenly, Yeshua interjects, "Actually, John, these are called dimensions – not 'levels,'" making a quotation mark gesture with his fingers as he says, 'levels.'

Then, he adds, "The laws of space and time govern the first dimension. The laws of energy govern the second, and the laws of love govern the last..."

We both look at Yeshua and wonder whether he's gone mad.

"Anyway, John, you were saying?" I interrupt and signal for John to continue. To my surprise, John just stares at Yeshua for a few seconds before turning to me.

"Actually, Yeshua is correct! How'd you know about this Yeshua?" John asks.

"I told you already, John." Yeshua sounds very serious as if they have had such a conversation.

"Remember when I told you about Gabr?" he continues.

"Sorry, guys. I'm absolutely confused here. What? Who? What's going on?" I ask.

John clears his throat and adds, "The universe exists in a balance because the laws that govern the three levels are to be in a balance. However, it has been prophesied that one day, the laws will be unstable because one of the gods will become a male human. This imbalance would cause the universe to restart, collapsing in itself and rebuilding itself again from the beginning. Therefore, to correct this balance, a female human must become a god. This female must be a virgin."

Then John stares outside, pausing, contemplating and giving us time to take all of that in. Then he continues, "She must be offered to the angel of death, Angel Samael, who guards the laws of energy. Angels are created creatures, and similarly, humans are created too. Humans are created in the first 'dimension' – to use Yeshua's terminology, and their souls progress through the second and eventually to the third 'dimension.' Angels, on the other hand, are created in the third 'dimension,' with some of them then moving on to be souls for a human being in the first 'dimension'. This is the cycle of the universe that keeps everything in balance."

I suddenly realise how fascinating and convincing John sounds. He is so wise for someone his age. I never realised at all the reason for my existence. Now I think I know. I never knew that something in me once existed in another 'dimension.' Perhaps that's why I daydream a lot, trying to recall my previous existence. The thought that my soul has existed as an angel fascinates me.

"Yudah? What now?" Yeshua interrupts.

"Yeah. So, you said John, that right now, the balance of the universe is disrupted. Correct?" I query.

"Yep," He simply responds.

"And that there is a girl who will be sacrificed to some Samael angel?" I question.

"A virgin girl," He corrects.

Yeshua just stands there like a statue, not even contributing to the conversation.

"What time is breakfast? Or lunch? Or dinner? I'm starving!" Yeshua selfishly interrupts. Typical Yeshua. He's always asking for food.

"I am new to this house, but I'm sure we can find our way around." I think Yeshua is right. It's time that we stop thinking about unproven theological nonsense and start getting something in our stomach. Let's just enjoy life a little.

We explore our new residence, trying to trick the guards into moving from their positions. They are disciplined. They cannot be messed around with. We eventually find the dining hall. There is fruit all over the table, beautifully presented. The presentation is too aesthetic that we do not want to eat it. Yeshua didn't care. He takes some apples anyway as we all return to my room. The chamber overlooks the western Temple walls and where we can see the back of the Holy of Holies. It is such a marvel to behold.

The day goes quickly. We take a nap after lunch. Uncle Malachi still hasn't returned when I wake up late in the afternoon. I quickly go to see our guests to see what our plan of attack may be. We won't know completely until we've found out more information from Uncle Malachi. It isn't long before a soldier comes barging into the room, heavily armoured.

"The Master requests that you all attend dinner immediately," he gives the message as if he's at war. As soon as he's finished, he rushes out.

"Let me do all the talking at the dining table," I insist. I can sense that Yeshua is going to disobey me. Yeshua and I know each other from school back at the synagogue, in Nazareth. I have always admired him because he is smart, but sometimes he can be annoying when he memorises all the answers for tests. That's why I hang out with the other boys, the cool boys. Eliab, our ring leader, who ensures that we are all catered for, doesn't like some of the boys at school, including Yeshua. I don't actually know what his problem is with Yeshua. All I know is that he believes that Yeshua is hiding a secret. As far as I'm concerned, Yeshua is just a weirdo, nothing more and nothing less.

"I see that you've introduced yourselves already! Very good!" Uncle Malachi speaks earnestly. We just listen. He continues, "Let me clear this first before I continue." He clears his throat, "I am a member of the Order of the Star. The society is under various names. We are a group of former soldiers called the Maghi, the Stargazers. There are three stargazers in every city all over the world. I am one of the three here in Jerusalem. We live in this property. Each of the three houses belongs to one of us. We worked for His Majesty, King Herod but now, we work for the King Philip's courtship. We interpret the movement of the stars."

Yeshua and I both look at John. He can tell that we're staring at him, but he ignores us, pretending to listen to Uncle.

'Any link between John's knowledge and Malachi?' I think to myself.

"There was once a prophecy that said, 'When humanity is about to destroy the world, a God will descend from the stars and will once again unite the whole universe.' Over a decade ago, we discovered an anomaly in the stars. A mass of starry dust collided over Bethlehem, with a brilliant light that illuminated the sky, a sign seen by the whole world. It pointed to the fulfilment of the prophecy. This led to the birth of a divine being. King Herod, the King at the time, came to us and told us to go and investigate. Upon arrival, in a hut, on a mountainside, with the shepherds and their flock, we discovered his parents and the divine baby boy, his eyes as bright as the stars above. We had no doubt that this boy was the fulfilment of that prophecy."

Uncle pauses. No one else speaks. It is the most prolonged pause I've ever had at a dining table.

"We were not interested in the boy. Even though we told King Herod that the kid was not the problem, he still wanted the boy killed. However, he was wasting his time. He should've taken our advice and looked for a baby girl, born around the same time as well. Every preceding prophesy must have a counter prophesy too. A divine boy was born therefore, a girl was born also. She counterbalances the consequences created by the birth of the male God!"

I can't believe what I am hearing. It may not be the exact details compared to John's theory, but you can easily see the link. I listen intently, just like John, awestruck by the whole thing.

"We found the girl; she's a young woman, your age; a virgin," Uncle continues.

We all look at each other.

"She will undergo a sacrificial ceremony which we hope will counterbalance the disruption to the universe," Uncle Malachi speaks as if he's proud of himself. He still hasn't finished. He continues, "The ceremony will require something essential; the blood from a sorcerer." Then Uncle looks straight at Yeshua, who has now stood up to leave.

"Before you leave," Uncle raises his voice as if demanding that Yeshua listens.

"I want you to know, Yeshua, that before you leave, we do not require as much blood. We only require just enough to cover the base of the sacrificial cup. The ceremony is not your usual ritual. Firstly, the sorcerer's blood will be spilt on a wooden altar to bring life to that space and at that specific time. Then, the girl will be placed on the altar, in the same way she came into this world – naked. Then, the Master of the Ceremony will perform a sacred action over her, some may say erotic, others may say immoral and others, disgusting. These sacrifices must be executed with the right set of mind. Otherwise, all these cease to work." By this time, Yeshua has stopped halfway towards the exit.

"One last thing. The sorcerer must submit his blood, freely and willingly! Otherwise, the full-moon we've been waiting for to coincide with the Passover will not return for another 15 years." Uncle Malachi bends down to finish his dinner.

"Whatever games you're playing Malachi, it's going to come back and haunt you." Yeshua's face does not look pleased as he speaks to my Uncle. He doesn't even touch his dinner. He's already leaving.

"This is fascinating stuff!" John erupts.

"When is the ceremony? Who is going to be the Master of Ceremony? Who is the lucky girl? Will she be killed?" I can tell that John is an interesting character. I can now see why Yeshua hangs out with his cousin.

"The ceremony is tonight. Unfortunately, only the three members of the Maghi will be attending. I am the Master of the Ceremony who will perform the sacrificial action, and the girl is from Magdala; her name is Maria."

John looks at me and quickly turns to Yeshua. By this time, Yeshua has made his way to the door but turns around totally disturbed by what he's heard. Does he know this woman? Why is he distraught by the name?
CHAPTER 11: Hospitality

PHILIP

Yeshua and John's parents are greeted by Boethius as they arrive in front of the palace, on a chariot organised by the King. They are still confused about what's happening. They had been busy earlier in the day, asking neighbours and strangers on the whereabouts of their sons. The women are overwhelmed with emotions. Mary is a few weeks away from giving birth, but the baby could come anytime now with the emotional stress she's been through lately. Her husband and brother-in-law are staunch Jewish males, showing no sentiment but only stability for their wives. The palace servants unload their baggage and accompany them with Boethius to their new accommodation. They will stay in the first house – a building designated for guests.

"Make yourselves at home," Boethius presents them to their room.

The four are staying together in one large room. In a corner, a canvas curtain divides two separate sleeping areas, each with a huge roman style bed. There's one massive window with creamy silk curtains, opening onto a patio which overlooks the garden. There are pot-plants scattered around the room. This is Roman ingenuity to help keep the air fresh and cool in the house. It is a luxury for the Galileans. They've never stayed in anything of the kind before. Although this is a new experience, they still don't understand why their sons are a matter of concern for the King. What have the boys gotten themselves into? What are they going to do to solve this problem? Surely, it's not that bad?

"A Roman palace for a Jewish king? It's kind of ironic, don't you think, Boethius?" Zechariah instantly critiques.

"And what does a Jewish palace look like?" The High Priest isn't going to take such remark lightly with his reply. He ensures that people think cautiously when being critical towards his grandson, especially guests.

"It has been a very long day for the four of you, I'm sure. How about you take a bit of time to freshen up and relax before we meet you at the dining table for dinner this evening." He concludes by reminding them that a servant will get them for dinner, before leaving the room. Mary and Elizabeth go straight to a bed each, worried about the boys' wellbeing. A mother's most significant worry is when she realises she is no longer in control of her child's freedom. The reality of life, however, informs her that it's time to let go. Mary and Elizabeth are both in the same boat. They are struggling to realise that their boys are grown men.

"Joseph?" Mary sounds terrified as she calls out for her husband. She's now realised the scale of danger her son and nephew are in.

"What can we do to find them?" She continues. Her questions are desperate, wanting information, craving for comfort, anything to make her heart settle.

Joseph grabs a glass of water from the jar on a side table. A bowl of fruit is next to it. He hands the drink to Mary and says, "You have to promise me to stay calm. Please don't spend a lot of time worrying as it's not good for you and the baby." He sits down next to her, offering the best comfort he can to his wife. His love for her is more than anyone's dream. They are delighted that they've found each other as although every day brings its challenges, love conquers them all. They care for each other even if one fails or is at fault. They accept life as is. It is as if they've mastered the art of love. It is not a love based on mutual agreement. Instead, it is life at its most uncomplicated form – love, love is life, and life is love. It hasn't always been like this though for the two. Mary and Joseph discovered this love through a vision they both had, 12 years ago. Before that, it was quite a story.

Mary was an only child, still in her mid-teens, when a deadly unknown disease swept through the nation. The unusual thing about this illness was that it only attacked elderly people and those with underlying health conditions. Once infected, a person's chest would expand and they would cough uncontrollably until they could no longer breathe. It was horrible. Her parents were one of the last victims of the illness. Before passing away, her father found her Joseph, her current husband. Initially, Joseph wasn't so pleased with the arrangement as he was embarrassed coming into the relationship with two sons from his previous marriage. His first wife was one of the first victims of the disease. She was in her prime when she contracted it, but she also had issues with her lungs, which ultimately claimed her life.

Not long after being betrothed to Mary, Joseph took his little family to Jerusalem for the Passover. His two sons, Yaqov and Yoses, were with them. Life was a struggle as he spent most of his time entrusting his heart to his sons rather than to his wife-to-be. Mary noticed Joseph's feelings were far from her, but she kept these things in her heart. When they were at the Temple getting the sacrificial lamb ready, she stayed back in the outer courtyard, looking after the boys. As traditionally required, Joseph took their lamb to be sacrificed. The moment the lamb's throat was slit, a robust thick wind struck Joseph to the ground. Instantly, both he and Mary went into a trance. They saw each other standing in the Holy of Holies. Initially they thought it was just a dream.

Gabr stood before them and explained to them the situation of the world. According to him, humanity had lost their faith in each other, fuelled by leaders who rose only to destroy. The laws of space and time had lost their purpose with humanity. As a result, a deadly disease, the tiniest of life's existence, broke out to remind humankind of its purpose – the importance of life. Still, they would not listen but continued doing what they usually did. He argued that the disease would wipe the world clean of humanity if they did not act now.

He explained the structure of the universe to them and how there are three dimensions. He pointed out the consequences if humans disappeared from the first dimension. Souls from the third dimension would not be able to come into the first dimension. There would be an imbalance in the universe, and the three dimensions would fall into chaos – where the gods would return to their original state – motionless, causeless, and without a purpose. There was only one solution. God from the third dimension would take the form of a human being. He would shift humanity from its destruction to its salvation. Mary had been chosen to carry the child. She asked Gabr how this could be possible to which he signalled for her to enter the Tabernacle curtains for the answer. Joseph did not know how to react. He just fell to his knees, enthralled by the experience. As they emerged from the Tabernacle, Gabr reminded Mary that the child is Emmanuel – God with us.

Since the experience, they've realised the meaning of life: their individual lives, the lives of their children, their friends, others and humanity. They realised that while it's important to think of oneself, it is more significant to think of humanity. You treat oneself how you would treat the world. The survival of humanity in this world is key to keeping a balance in the universe. Mary and Joseph started living as if each of them brought life to the other. Everything else flowed afterwards. Love for each other blossomed and eventually love for others followed.

"Promise?" Joseph wants a response from Mary. She remains silent for a moment before nodding.

The men go for a walk around the complex while the women take an afternoon nap. They meet a few people during their stroll but do not interact with anyone apart from giving the usual chin-up gesture and saying 'Shalom.' They keep their distance from passersby for fear they might reveal information not meant for the public. No one dares to ask who they are, and they do not ask anyone either.

Later in the evening, at the dining table, King Philip is humbled to greet the boys' parents. He gives them kisses on both cheeks, an unusual way for a King to welcome non-family and non-royal guests. They do not talk much about the boys at the dinner but instead speak about each other's families and King Philip shares how he received his throne. He explains that his father met his mother through the High Priest. They instantly fell in love. It was a match destined to be everlasting. However, his mother fell ill of a deadly disease during the time she was carrying him. The doctors told the King that she would die together with the child. His heart was broken and he ended up sleeping with the daughter of a Roman General, one of his close friends whom he fought battles alongside. As a result, she became pregnant. However, the Kings wife defied the odds, survived the disease and gave birth naturally to Philip. His half-brother, Antipas, was born just under a year later, but the child was left with the King to be raised.

"Do you know where my son is?" Mary interrupts.

"Umm, yeah. I was meant to say something," the King quickly replies before continuing.

"Your son, Yeshua, is an exceptional child. I know you already know that. However, I want to be assured that before I give you some details, you will trust me that I will do all I can to help."

King Philip then looks at Boethius, hoping that he'll intervene to help with the discussion. The High Priest doesn't pick up the hints. Instead, he continues, "My brother, Prince Antipas, is a cruel man. To put it bluntly, he wants Yeshua dead!" Fear suddenly overcomes the King as he points out how the Prince organised for a poisonous snake to attack Yeshua in the desert, planted at the camp. It was too late when the King's men found out. Luckily, the boy survived.

"Your brother will pay for this!" Zechariah, usually a quiet man, explodes like never before. His eyes are as red as a ferocious fire. His breath warm like a furious dragon.

"What are you trying to do to our boys?" He explodes again and this time, Joseph stands up to calm him down.

"The High Priest, interviewed them and asked if they were willing to be protected by me," the King pauses, waiting for a reaction. Nothing.

"They both agreed." Another silence in the dining hall.

"However, as they were transported from the High Priest's house to mine, the group was intercepted by another group who kidnapped the boys."

Immediately, Mary lets out a short scream, holds her mouth and bursts into tears. She can't control her emotions. Joseph instantly shouts, "What do you mean they were kidnapped? I thought you said they're here under your protection?" He walks towards the King, and as he does, guards who are around the room suddenly move towards Joseph to restrain him, a signal for Joseph to stop. He stands there and continues arguing, "Then, why are we here? We should be out there looking for them?"

The King does not know what else to say. He looks around for Boethius to assist. This time he takes the hint.

"Let's not get too ahead of ourselves here," Boethius' deep calm voice is comforting. He continues, "There are a few theories. One is that Prince Antipas' men may have kidnapped them. He is arriving tomorrow. We will ask him when he gets here. Secondly, there is a rogue group who has accidentally taken them without realising the gravity of what they've done. Lastly, we could be wrong. They may have just escaped. Whatever the reason, we all need to calm down and think of ways to find the boys. We have soldiers ready to be deployed to look for them. We will start looking for them tomorrow morning with your permission. Moreover, you must agree that once found, Yeshua will be with us, under our protection. He will live here as a servant, and no one else will know he exists here. We need your assurance before we give our 100% support." Boethius stands up and makes his way to stand behind the King. Then he says, "Are you willing to accept?"

None of the parents say anything. Mary is still sobbing, and Zechariah is furious. Elizabeth and Joseph are speechless. Then, Joseph mumbles something to the others before speaking up.

"I'll speak on behalf of all of us," Joseph's response is shaky.

"We will allow you to keep Yeshua if you are happy to keep John too. The boys need each other."

The King and the High Priest look at each other. The King then nods to Boethius, who says, "Very well. We will keep both boys. We will launch a search party first thing tomorrow morning because it is already late, and Shabbat starts tonight. If you go against our terms, then we have no choice but to leave you to the fate of Prince Antipas." Boethius speaks with desperation. He wants assurance from all the parties that the agreement made will be followed.

The four return to their rooms even more confused. Zechariah looks at Mary and says, "What are you two not telling us about Yeshua? Why do they want your son? What are you hiding from us?"

Mary looks at Joseph, speechless. Joseph's face looks empty. He doesn't know what to say. After a few seconds of silence, picking up his thoughts, he replies, "Yeshua is a special child. He holds the key to the survival of humanity. We do not know exactly what that means. We are still trying to understand."

"Okay? What assurance do you have to show us that Yeshua is special?" Zechariah enquires.

"Is the whole situation we're in right now not enough for you?" Joseph blurts out.

"Come on, you two. It's not helping. We need to be strong." Elizabeth finally speaks up.

Back at the dining hall, the King looks worried as he sits there, pondering whether getting the parents involved was a good idea. Boethius has excused himself to retire for the night. The moon is out, beautiful, bright, and big. As the King stands up to walk over to the window for a clear view of the moon, he can't understand why Boethius was in a hurry to leave. Usually, he stays back to have a few glasses of wine. He's bothered too by one thing the High Priest said, which did not make any sense. Boethius said that the soldiers could not be sent tonight because Shabbat had started. How is that different from sending them tomorrow, on Shabbat? What is he planning on doing tonight? Does he know the whereabouts of the boys? What is he not telling him?
CHAPTER 12: Unwanted arrival

The chariots pull up in front of the Roman Consulates' property square, and out comes Prince Antipas. He has brought along with him horse-mounted forces and extra security soldiers. He is greeted by Valerius Gratus, a former soldier who belonged to one of the last legions sent during the initial occupation of Israel. He comes from a military family and joined the legion as a teenager. Now in his late twenties, he's an appointed leader by the Roman Emperor. He holds the title of Roman Prefecture for Israel, a representative of the Emperor there. The Prefect is an unpopular figure amongst the Jews and their religious leaders but is favoured by outside businessmen, the nobles and the rich.

"Salve Valerius! Bonum in occursum adventus tui amicus." (Greetings, Valerius! Good to see you, my friend). Antipas shows off his Latin as he exits his chariot with a huge smile.

"Your journey arrived earlier than you said. We were expecting you tomorrow." Valerius exclaims, arms extended wide as he comes down the steps of the house.

"And your Latin accent still needs a bit of work, just like your communication." Valerius bursts out laughing. Antipas joins in. They give each other an arm-shake, palms grabbing the other person's opposite forearm. Then, they greet each other with their cheek to cheek on both sides, followed by a hug. Their friendship started last year when Valerius came through Galilee before journeying to take his post as Prefect in Jerusalem. The Prince hosted Valerius and instantly realised how similar they were. Through that initial meeting, they established that they were relatives. The Prince's mother was the Prefect's cousin. Although they never voiced it, they treated each other as brothers.

"I hope your journey wasn't too exhausting?" Whenever the Prefect asks such a question, he wants to reassure the recipient that he's got a relaxation session planned.

"I had a pleasant journey, thanks. I wanted to come early as I did not want to upset our Jewish counterparts. You know what they are like towards the Roman authorities." Antipas gives a brief explanation as to his early arrival but then continues. "I'm here to make a peace treaty with my brother. I have been trying to get in touch with him but with no response. I wanted this sorted before his coronation in a few days."

"You need not worry about all these things. You need to relax. Get yourself settled in, and I'll see you soon. A servant will come and get you for dinner." Valerius wanted to get the evening celebration started.

The Consulate residence is a castle, similar to that of the Roman Emperor. The large square in front of the property is a public space where everyone is free to express their thoughts. Freedom of thought is typical of Roman politics. The ground square is made of cobblestones brought in from Rome. This is just a simple open spaced area, in front of the steps to the Consulate building. No one is allowed any further than the steps, which are guarded by soldiers. At the top of the steps is an enormous patio with massive columns to hold up the building's roof structure. Potted-palms adorn the front wall of the building. More statues are framed into the front of it with a huge doorway in the middle that leads into the front wing, an open lounge for guests. The Prefect meets guests and hosts functions in this area.

A Roman garden opening up to the sky is located in the middle of the rectangular property. A pool is in the middle of the garden with more statues and plants decoratively situated around it. This is Roman ingenuity to help improve the flow of cool air around the property, especially needed in a hot climate like Israel. The left-wing houses sleeping quarters for guests and recreation areas with baths and a training arena. The right-wing is the kitchen, dining area, and shrine for worshipping Roman family gods. The back wing is more prominent and is for the Prefect and his family. His office is also located there.

As typical to all aristocracy, the property is surrounded by a wall, this one towering over all the other residential homes and as high as the Jerusalem city walls. Instead of citadels, the top is decorated with hundreds of statues of deities, past Emperors, and famous Senators equally spaced. The place is more significant than King Philip's palace, a display of authority and power.

Romans are proud people. They showcase themselves wherever they establish a new territory, or what they term a Province. According to their political philosophy, stability governs. Rome became the first of the world's civilisations to adopt democracy, that is, a government by the people, for the people. Senators are appointed by an executive body consisting of three people: The Emperor and two representatives elected by Roman citizens. The executive body holds the ruling authority of the Empire while the senators manage the day to day operations and meet to create laws when necessary. This is democracy at its best. Democracy means the rule of the people, a political theory invented by the Greeks, and later adopted by the Romans. The term is a Greek word made from two words: demos, meaning 'people' and cracy, meaning 'to rule'. The Romans learned from the Greek's mistake of giving too much power to its citizens. An imbalance of civil power can eventually become unstable, thus, the downfall of authority.

In the training arena, the Prefect and the Prince decide to have a last-minute friendly fight to exercise before dinner. They are both young and athletic, each wearing only a white undergarment to cover their loins, displaying their abdominal muscles, with a wooden sword in hand. This could easily be confused as a gladiator tournament. At first, the Prince starts to show strength, vigilance and speed when attacking and striking with his sword. The Prefect, although of older age, however, manages to defend each strike, shielding himself from the energetic visitor. A little slip ends with the Prefect facing his back to Antipas, who takes this as an advantage to strike mightily from the top. His intention is to maim the opponent. To his surprise, Valerius, quickly ducks, refraining from blocking the strike, allowing Antipas' sword to travel at speed to the ground. He quickly turns, kicking Antipas' hands, who then loses his sword. Valerius' sword pointing into Antipas' face is a winning signal. The Prefect is adept at sword fights. He may be older, but he still has the skills and techniques. He needs to maintain his fitness and skills to demonstrate to his Roman soldiers that he means serious business. Antipas, humbled by the loss, congratulates his host as they both head for a much-needed bath and massage.

At the dinner table, chatter and laughter engulf the room and can be heard outside the palace as Prince Antipas and Valerius catch up on what each other's been up to. This isn't a Jewish family; therefore, Shabbat is no matter of concern. The crackling of the fireplace radiates its warmth throughout the dining hall. It's a massive room for only two people. Valerius usually hosts nobles, business people, and significant benefactors for dinner. However, as tonight is Shabbat, most of his Jewish supporters prefer to spend such an evening with their families. The two, drink wine after wine, and laugh and laugh as they come up with various strategies of attack in an imaginary war between the Romans and the Armenian Empire. Armenia borders on to Galilee, and Prince Antipas' men are always busy trying to keep the border safe from invasion. Roman soldiers are deployed occasionally to help with border security, but everything had been quiet for some time until recently, when news of the coronation surfaced. Rumours have it, that when King Philip is crowned, the Armenians will see Antipas' northern kingdom as a weak spot and therefore, will launch an attack to counter for the King's response. Philip denied and crushed such rumours as Antipas' propaganda to take his throne.

The two men are in the middle of their after-dinner drinking session when a servant enters the dining hall and walking behind him, one of King Philip's dedicated men. The room is well-lit by the fireplace except the entrance which is shaded in a few areas. The visitor remains in the shadows, just enough to be recognised. Valerius expected the visit, but for Antipas it is a surprise. They both look at him and wonder what news he carries.

"Your Excellency, Valerius, and welcome to Your Highness, Prince Antipas!" The shadow speaks. His official greeting is not uncommon. Tonight's one, however, is different. The onlookers stare at each other before continuing to listen to the news they are waiting for.

"You are cordially invited as spectators to the sacrifice tonight. It will take place in the training arena, inside the Royal Guest Residence, next to the Temple's western wall. We will expect you there when the moon reaches the middle of the sky." He bows and slowly walks backwards while facing his audience, until he disappears into the darkness of the building. Then, Valerius blurts, "I was meant to tell you. This is a ceremony we must attend." Valerius picks up his cup of wine, gives the Prince a salutation, a signal that Roman soldiers use to end a drinking session. Antipas, on the other hand, is flabbergasted by the news. What has he come into? What is Valerius planning to do? What sacrifice is this when the Passover finished a night ago? Questions are mounting up for the Prince, all the more reason to be an honoured guest at this sacrificial ceremony. He is excited but, at the same time, unsure as to what is about to come.
CHAPTER 13: Sacrifice

YESHUA

I leave the dinner furious with Malachi's presumption and accusation. How dare he call me a sorcerer. I know he was talking to me because who else would it have been? John? Yudah? No, it was me! He's found out that I possess supernatural powers. What other information does he know about me? I am extremely annoyed as I sit in bed, staring out the window. Where are you, Gabr? Why aren't you talking to me? The more I reflect on the incident with Malachi, the more I can't control my emotions. I suddenly start hearing questions in my head. I cannot tell exactly where they are from. 'Why not change Malachi into a stone? What are you doing just sitting there? Shouldn't you do something about it?' The more I replay the incident, the more my breathing gradually increases. The question keeps repeating, 'Shouldn't you do something about it?' Ah-ha! I immediately come up with an idea. I'll go back to the dining hall and show them who I really am! I'll change the dinner into stone. As I stand up to leave, I hear someone scream from the door.

"What the hell was that about Yeshua?" John is standing at the door staring at me, judging me, accusing me and probably waiting for a reaction. I just stand there; speechless, staring back. "What's wrong with you?" John continues.

"What are you talking about, John?" I yell back, adrenaline pumping throughout my body. "Are you saying there is something wrong with me?" I fire back and at the same time, start walking towards him, furious.

My anger for Malachi is now redirected towards John. I don't know how it happens or why. It just does. As I take a step forward, I can hear screeching voices. Oh no! This is the dark voice. However, it is different from usual. I can hear a deeper voice, speaking in another language, 'Mortifico! Interemo!' These are Latin verbs which mean to kill and to destroy. I don't speak Latin, but as the words are mentioned, mysteriously, somehow, I can understand their meanings. How is this possible? I don't care. I'm concentrating on John.

As I move closer to him, I can see the fear in his eyes. His body language shifts and he looks scared. Immediately, a strong, thick wind, stronger than what I experienced at the Temple, speeds up and attacks me from behind. I end up flying forwards, landing right in front of John. I am surprised by the unusual phenomenon. As I stand back up and correct my tunic, I wonder if Gabr will appear. I wait for a few seconds. I am disappointed to see no one but John, standing in front of me. My anger is distracted.

"Are you alright?" John asks, trying to figure out what has just happened. "It's similar to that incident at the Temple." He reminds me. I didn't think he would have remembered.

A sudden silent pause forces us to hear the breeze whistling through the window. Dogs bark in the distance. They sound closer, but then again, the sound could be carried for miles with a quiet evening like this. The glistening moonlight against the silky curtains vivifies the lighting in the room. Candle lights on their own are not bright enough.

"I want you to tell me what's going on, Yeshua!" John demands. He looks at me, mystified. I don't know what to say or how to say it as he walks past me to sit on his bed. I continue watching him, still without words. He's right. I need to explain some things to him. He's my cousin, and he's shared so much about his interests and life with me. I haven't been reciprocal. I sigh, instantly forgetting what had just happened with my uncontrolled emotions and sit next to him.

"I haven't been open with you," I admit, staring out the window, then continue, "There are actually some things about me that no one knows. They are best kept a secret for everyone's sake. I have been mocked, shamed and bullied at school because of them. It wasn't a good feeling. I wouldn't wish it upon anyone. I have occasionally doubted myself." I pause, turning to look at John, to see if he's heard anything I have been saying. He is staring at me, attentive, curious and concentrating.

"Uhum!" He signals for me to continue.

"I have..." I don't finish what I wanted to tell him when I suddenly fall back into my bed and realise, I have gone into a vision.

Gabr is in our bedroom, as I expected, standing at the doorway. I can see John, lying there, right next to me. I wonder if Gabr has made him fall asleep? Probably.

"Shalom Yeshua!" Gabr exclaims. His sword, furious and brilliant, shakes simultaneously with every step as he paces towards me.

"Shalom, John!" Gabr greets John. I suddenly jump, not realising that John has woken up too and can see what I see.

"John!" I yell back at him. He can hear me but is blinded by the brilliance of the visitor. It is as if he is seeing a divine being. I continue to examine him. John looks mesmerised. He cannot believe his eyes. He stands up and starts saying something softly to himself, as if reciting a scriptural text, I can't understand. He falls to his knees, eyes still on Gabr and arms slightly raised in front of him – a praying gesture, mimicking the great ancient leader, Moses, who fell on his knees to pray for YHWH's forgiveness of Israel's sins.

"Stand up, my child." Gabr slowly bends down to pick him up and sits him down next to me. I turn to look at John, wondering if he is alright. He looks back at me, pale-faced, still shocked at the whole thing.

"What's going on Gabr? Why are you here?" I ask. Suddenly, John shouts, "You can see him too!" I can't believe he has just said that.

"Of course I can see him, John! I told you about Gabr, but you wouldn't believe me!" I reply.

"Gabr? Who? What?" His voice is shaky, he is still shocked and now has his head bowing down, too scared to look up.

"I wanted to tell you that I have..." I am suddenly interrupted without finishing my sentence; again.

"I'll explain, Yeshua!" Gabr cries out. I look at him and agree. He slowly paces the room as he goes on, "My name is Gabr. I have brought you along to be part of this conversation, John, because you play a significant role in the salvation of humanity. I have much to reveal, but you will need time to take it all in. A time will come when you are ready, when your heart finally understands. You have been chosen to be the voice for the voiceless, the sight for the blind and the ears for the deaf. Such a time will bring tribulations to you, where you will prepare the world for the coming of Emmanuel." John's head suddenly jumps up as he hears the name. He's heard it being used on someone he knows.

"Hey, I know someone called by that name?" He slowly turns his head, eyes darting towards me as he continues, "Is it who I think it is?" Gabr nods but is unnoticed by John as he is still glaring at me. I ignore him.

"Yes, John," Gabr continues, "I am referring to Yeshua. He is a special child. Look after him. Protect him because his time has not yet come. His path is meant for the altar of sacrifice. Like a lamb, led to be slaughtered, so is his destiny." As I sit there, listening to Gabr, chills frizzle down my spine. I am scarred by this new revelation, it weighs heavy on my shoulders. I start to wonder what he means that my path is meant for an altar and being slaughtered is my destiny. This is mystical talk I do not understand. Why can't he just say it as it is? Why talk in colourful analogies? I am taken aback by it all.

"Can I ask a question Gabr?" I query.

"Sure." He is open for a discussion.

"What did you mean by me being a special child? What did you mean about my path being meant for the altar? What did you mean by my destiny is being slaughtered? I can't understand all of this when you and I both know that I have special supernatural gifts." I gaze at Gabr, studying his reaction, as he stares back at me.

"You will not understand now what I mean. The time will come when you will. When that time comes, the destruction of this whole universe rests upon your shoulders. Your choice for such an undertaking is dependent on the readiness of your heart. That time will come, when humanity will start daydreaming, dreaming and seeing visions of souls. They will see things differently from the reality of their world. There will be destruction all around them, and many will fall into their own recklessness. These are signs that this world has disturbed the balance of the universe and weakened the barriers that hold each dimension in place. When these are broken, souls from the third dimension will be released. These will be unpleasant to humans. They will see what their eyes rather not see, hear what their ears rather not hear and speak what their mouths rather not say. Emmanuel, my beloved son, you have been chosen, and I am here to guide you. A young virgin will test you, and I am here to warn both of you." As he says this, both John and I look at each other confused. I want to ask another question, when Gabr continues, "After I finish from here, you will be confronted by choices. These choices must always be guided by your heart." A white dove instantly flew through the window and landed on my right shoulder for a few seconds. Then, it flew out the same way it came in. Astounded and absorbed in the bird's visit, we continue to stare out the window with the beaming moonlight in the background.

"There you are!" Yudah screams. Immediately, John and I both jolt awake and nearly wet ourselves with fright.

"Rrrhhhh," I start screaming at the top of my voice. Before I know it, John and Yudah have joined in unwittingly as well until we all realise it is for no reason. As our screaming dies down, a huge burst of laughter erupts. I can't believe what's just happened. We were fooled by our own stupidity.

"Why would you do that, Yudah?" I am annoyed because he nearly ripped my head off. I stand up and walk towards the window, wondering where the bird has flown. John comes after me and whispers, "Has Gabr gone?" I slowly nod, still gazing out of the window. I can feel the breeze, cold on my sweating face.

"So, why were you two afraid all of a sudden?" Yudah asks, no knowing whether he wants a response. "Anyway, never-mind. I'm here because I don't know what just happened out there. John said he's coming to get you, Yeshua, but I find you two rolling around in bed. Why? I have no bloody idea." Yudah can be rude. He's a typical spoilt boy, rich and well respected by his peers. However, he does show concern, and I know he cares for others. He continues, "Uncle Malachi wants to know, Yeshua, if you're willing. I've brought the cup for you for your blood." I quickly turn to look at him straight in his eyes. Questions rage in my mind. Is this what Gabr meant? Is this one of the choices I will need to make? If I say no, which I initially wanted to, then, why would Gabr appear to me, to us? I have changed my mind since. I am confused. Malachi said that I must give my blood willingly, but how is it voluntarily if Gabr's information made me change my mind? I'm also worried about Maria.

"Yeshua?" John whispers. "Malachi probably wants an answer now." He looks at me, patiently waiting as I continue to contemplate.

"Very well! Give me the cup and the knife." I exclaim. Yudah came prepared. It isn't that much of a dagger really. It is small, ridiculous looking but attractive. Instead of the usual straight blade, this one is shaped in a wavy pattern, like a snake with no head. The curvy blade is about five inches long, finishing with a sharp tip at the end. Both edges are very sharp. The handle is made of olive wood, nicely tied up to hold the blade.

"No. You give me your hand," Yudah insists.

"It's easier if I do it rather than you. I'll make a clean cut on your palm and drain out some blood in the cup." Yudah sounds very confident he can do the job.

"Let me hold the cup," John yells out and comes rushing to help.

However, instead, Yudah holds the cup and gives John the dagger, who then points it straight up in the air. As I came closer to them, I extend my right hand to slowly wrap my palm around the blade. Another palm suddenly encompasses mine. Bigger, firmer. It is Malachi! The moment I realise who it is, I instantly remove my hand from the blade, inadvertently, cutting my palm.

"Ahh!" It is a quick slice which initially isn't that painful. I feel numb in my hands. Blood starts dripping rapidly from my still-closed-fist. Yudah quickly grabs my arm to capture the blood, dripping it into the cup. Surprisingly, it doesn't take that long for the blood to fill the bottom of the cup.

This is the first time John and I see the cup. It is a chalice. The main part of the cup is made of black onyx but ornated with gold. The rim has one inch of gold all around. Carefully carved and decorated precious stones: blue lapis, white pearls, malachite, diamonds and turquoise are equally spaced out, fused into the gold. The stem that joins the cup to the base is about three inches thick and long, and is also made of gold, with a similar decoration on the rim, only bigger. The base is a similar design to the cup, as if it's the cup itself, just facing the opposite direction. Yudah manages to collect enough blood then Malachi rips part of his tunic to tie around my hand, to stop the bleeding. He does a great job. That's when I start to feel the sting, I realise, actually, this cut is more painful than I initially thought.

"Thanks for that Yudah. Let me have the cup now, please." Malachi demands. His nephew slowly hands the cup over to him. Malachi then twists the base of the cup, unscrews and pulls it out, separating it from the top part. Then, he turns it upside-down and places it on top of the cup to form a ball-like object. It no longer looks like a chalice. He then cautions us, "No one must find this cup as so many different superpowers, Emperors, Kings and Religious Leaders have tried to find it. The disguise is the only way of protecting it." Malachi then goes on to tell us the history behind the chalice.

He explains the origin of the universe is passed down through myths, legends and stories; divine beings and all. It's difficult to explain divine beings because one would use time and space in their description. For example, when one asks, 'where is God from?' then, one is presuming that God works within a particular space. Similarly, when one asks, 'when did God create the world?' then, they are referring to a particular time that the world was created. Instead, the best way to talk about the divine is to imagine it outside of space and time. Suppose that we imagine the universe existing outside of space and time and how it was once a single matter, an existence that's consubstantial with divine beings. It's difficult to think as such because human minds are designed to process thoughts within space and time. However, thinking of something existing outside of space and time is the best possible way of explaining divine concepts. By accepting this as a starting point, would one accept whatever follows?

Malachi goes on to explain that initially, divine beings were existing consubstantially with the universe, a single matter. One day, the 'beings' decided to separate: all of this happening outside of space and time. As they separated, three worlds were created, distinctively unique in each existence. The first ended up creating a world of space and time, everything in it inheriting and copying the universal matter, which became the basis for all physical material objects in the first world: water, earth, animals, plants and so forth. Uniquely, the 'beings,' except one, took refuge in this world, becoming engrained with the existence of time, space and matter. These 'beings' created humans to become the pathway to hidden truths and the natural laws of time and space. Humans acquired intellect as pathways to keep the universe in balance.

Then Malachi points out that the second and third world, were simultaneously created with the first. Malachi reminds us that these two worlds exist without space and time in comparison to the first. The one remaining 'being,' would dwell in the third world and be conscious of keeping the universe in balance. In fact, the 'beings' in the first world and that of the third are still consistently keeping the universe in balance. The third world 'being', created angelic creatures to mobilise souls between the three worlds. Angel creatures were fluid and could take any form of physical body, whether this be a human body, an animal, bird or fish. He points out that therefore, angel creatures can appear during the same time spectrum of both past and future. Time and space do not affect them.

Then, he moves on to explain the origin of humanity. He explains further that there is the usual literature about the story of Adam and Eve. He then continues by saying that there is another side to that story, one hidden from human literature and tradition to protect something precious. He continues to share that in the middle of the garden, where Adam and Eve were living, two trees were planted, and their human intellect forbade them from eating from them. Each tree contained a different fruit. The first, the fruit of good and evil and the other, the fruit of life. Inside these two fruits, embedded in their existence, are the 'divine beings,' who are engrained in the physical laws of time and space. The laws of space and time are, in fact, divine beings.

Then, Malachi reminds us how Adam and Eve consumed the fruit of good and evil. He points out that when Adam and Eve ate the fruit, they subsumed the very essence of the divine within that fruit. They possessed knowledge of goodness beyond what we will ever know and also knowledge of evil beyond our understanding. Their minds opened up to endless possibilities. They knew then that the fruit of life should never end up in the wrong hands due to the evil it would unleash. Adam vowed to protect it. Then, Malachi highlights that throughout generations, thanks to our founding parents, humanity constantly battles to balance the knowledge of good and evil within them. Some days goodness is greater than evil and other days the opposite. As he finishes his long spiel, Malachi turns towards us, holding up the ball object, cupping it in his hands.

"If you look at this object carefully, you will notice, that this is the other fruit, that dates back to Adam and Eve." Malachi holds it out for us to see how it would have looked on a tree. It definitely looks like a fruit.

"It is the other fruit that was never consumed by Adam and Eve; the fruit of life." Malachi continues.

"Adam and Eve gave this fruit to their eldest son, Cain to protect. Scripture says that Cain's sacrifice was made out of his first fruits and Abel's sacrifice was out of his first-year old lambs. It points out that Abel's sacrifice was pleasing to God, resulting in Cain killing Abel out of jealousy." He explains.

Malachi highlights that actually, Cain, as the protector of the fruit, had a massive confrontation with his brother who wanted to consume it, to destroy it. Consequently, Cain had to kill his brother to protect the fruit. He deeply regretted killing him as he loved Abel so much.

In order not to have anyone else experience the pain of losing a brother, Cain sealed the fruit with onyx to keep and disguise its structure from anyone else but his descendants. Then, Cain cut the fruit in half, removed its content, burying them underneath a Ghaf Tree. This tree's descendants still hold part of the essence of life today because its roots have consumed the divine beings from the fruit's content. The same tree provided wood for Noah to build his boat, wood for Abraham for his first sacrifice to God, the rod to strike the red sea and timber to build the Ark of the Covenant and the first Jewish Temple.

Malachi continues, "Then, Cain used one half of the fruit to face upwards to form a cup and the other half to face downwards to form the cup's base; a chalice. The embellishment of gold and precious stones was added later through the generations."

As Malachi completes his story-telling, he pauses and looks at the fruit-like object, still facing us and cupped in his hands. His story has caused all of us to be mesmerised by the chalice's history and its journey in our Jewish story.

"This chalice has saved so many lives. The cup saved Noah. It saved Isaac from Abraham, then Jacob and his family. It produced all ten plagues, parted the ocean and saved the Israelites from the Egyptian Pharoh." Then he looks at us before continuing.

"It's contents, the gods, deposited underneath the Ghaf Tree, without the fruit, remains insignificant. The cup and the Ghaf wood, when brought together, formulate the tree of life again." Malachi pauses, looking intently at the object in his hands before declaring.

"I am the keeper of this cup. Tonight, is when this cup will meet the Ghaf wood and the tree of life will come to its former glory." Then he pauses as if he is contemplating something. He gives me a stern stare.

"Wow!" John cannot stop staring at it. It would be an understatement that I wasn't amazed too.

"Promise me to tell nobody!" Malachi shouts.

"Yes Uncle! Yes sir! Sure Malachi!" All our declarations are yelled out at the same time.

Malachi paces towards the doorway and turns around, saying, "Around every 15 years, the three worlds of the universe align. This allows for the souls to mobilise easily between the three worlds. In other words, a lot of people will either die, souls moving to the third world or people will be born, souls becoming human beings. Fifteen years ago, a lot of people died of a deadly disease." He scans the room, probably giving himself a chance to breathe following all his talking.

He then continues, "Remember, I've told you that the sacrificial ceremony is to counter-balance the disruption to the universe caused when a divine being became human. There are two possible outcomes of the ceremony. One, if all goes well, the girl will die, and her soul will balance the universe. Secondly, if we have the boy, we can sacrifice him to send him back to where he came from." Then he pauses, staring straight at me.

"Yeshua? Should we sacrifice you?" The room goes dead silent. Everyone suddenly stares at me. I can see John itching to speak. I don't know what to do or how to react. Then, out of nowhere, Malachi bursts out laughing.

"You should have seen the look on your face?" He blurts out, absolutely amused by his own sarcasm. "I will be leaving a guard to make sure you three don't do anything stupid." Then he turns to me, says 'thank you for the blood,' laughs creepily and leaves. As he leaves, a soldier enters, whom we met earlier, and takes a stand-at-ease post by the doorway, this time, holding a spear. We're stuck in the room, not knowing how to get out.

After Malachi leaves, I walk towards the soldier and know exactly what I am going to do. The soldier is motionless and disciplined, standing straight as a statue. His copper helmet gives an extended frame to his face and his eyes examine me as I stare straight back at him. My fingers point out, reaching slowly to poke the soldier's belly. He does not budge. He is still in position, thinking that perhaps I won't do him any harm. To his shock, his stomach starts to harden like a rock and slowly, his body transforms into a rock, including his uniform, spear and helmet. His comrades would have thought it was the soldier's effigy. He stands there, like all the other sculptures around the property.

"What the hell Yeshua?" John yells! Yudah is shocked by what he saw, probably afraid of me too.

"Come on, guys! We need to go and save Maria!" I wave to them and run out of the room, not knowing exactly where I am going. I continue along a long corridor, which leads outside to a small round amphitheatre in the middle of a triangular-shaped open area. The others follow. We can see Malachi's residence where we are standing from and two other properties, presumably belonging to the other Stargazers, each situated on a triangular point. An aerial view would display a triangular-shaped courtyard, with houses in each of the three corners and an amphitheatre in the middle, like an eye looking up to the heavens.

"I think my Uncle's in there!" Yudah whispers, pointing at the amphitheatre. There is no one around, not even the guards. The beams of moonlight, as bright as diamonds, turn the ground-a-glow like melted platinum. It is dark greyish, black and white. It is beguiled by its unique beauty. The soft Middle-eastern breeze blusters as I become disorientated by the haunting lullaby it produces through the tree leaves. As we sneak through the open platinum-coloured dirt, with the silhouettes of buildings across the ground, we find the back entrance, probably used to bring gladiators into the arena. A chant of mixed languages echoes throughout the theatre. We have come to the right place. Peeping from behind a hidden brick wall, we can see the altar, a wooden platform in the form of an X-shape, made out of Ghaf-timber, floating in the air, in the middle of the ground. That's the area where gladiators fight. Each wooden end of the X-shaped altar is tied tightly by ropes to poles, suspending the wooden frame in the air. There is no sign of Maria on the platform, yet. Three human figures, each wearing a black cloak and differently designed golden crown on their heads, are equally spaced around the platform, walking at the same time, in an anti-clockwise direction. Each person carefully carries a beautifully decorated chest-box in front of them. One is reciting an ancient chant in Latin, the other in Greek and the last in Hebrew, all at the same time. The chanting is getting louder every time they complete a circular rotation. A few of the Order of Star members and guests are gathered and seated quietly where the theatre audience would typically sit.

Suddenly, Yudah lets out a screeching scream and jumps backwards not to be seen. John and I jump back too, and try to shut him up.

"What the hell, Yudah!" John whisper-screams back.

"It was a rat! It was huge!" Yudah defends himself.

"It was a cat, you idiot!" John whispers back. Everyone has noticed something happening in our direction, and a soldier has already been sent to investigate. We sneak back to our hiding position, scared that we will be caught. A human shadow falls across us hiding undetected. Luckily it is dark and the only light is the faint moonlight peeping through the opened air roof of the theatre. A cat suddenly screams from another direction and runs, distracting the soldier who by now has gone to the animal's path. This is the second time, John and I have been saved by a cat. I take another peep to see what's happening.

A voice echoes through the theatre, "Behold the blood of the lamb, willing to sanctify this wooden altar. May our sacrifice be worthy before our universe." Then everyone present recites back, "Blessings are forever!" I know that voice leading. It's Malachi. He opens up his chest-box, and out comes the golden ball. He unscrews the top and adds it to the base to form the golden chalice, careful not to spill the blood. He then places it in the middle of the X-platform. A hole is carved into the wood for the chalice base to remain stationed. Then, he continues. "Behold she, the sacrificial lamb, willing to remove human frailties." Maria, naked with her hands not-tied, is led in front of the audience by two soldiers. 'That's strange?' I think. 'I thought they'd tie her up?' Malachi grabs the cup, drips some of its contents onto the wooden altar and keeps the rest in the cup. At the same time, Maria walks over and sits on the platform, hanging in mid-air. Each limb is tied to each wooden end as she lays hanging in the X formation. Her head is towards the audience, arms extending toward them and legs wide open in the opposite direction. Her body is free, publicly exposed, ready for the sacrifice. Malachi stands between her legs as he faces the audience who have come to witness the undertaking. He drips the rest of the blood onto Maria's stomach making his way down to her groin area. Then, the two other Stargazers come forward still holding onto their unopened chest-boxes. Facing inwards, one comes in between Maria's left leg and left arm while the second, mirroring on the opposite side, each meeting next to the girl's stomach.

The person on the left takes out a small jar of oil, immediately, the aroma of the contents fills the whole theatre, even though the ground is open to the starry skies above. It is Myrrh.

He says, "Behold are we, present before the universe, willing to anoint this lamb."

He pours the fragrance on her head and allows it dribble down her hair, then he massages some over her body, on her arms and finally down her legs. Afterwards, there is the usual recitation reply from the audience, "Blessings are forever!".

The other Stargazer opens his box, and out comes a bowl of sweet frankincense spices all kept in a silver bowl. He burns the spices. Smoke ascends to the sky as he recites, "Behold are we, present before the universe, willing to receive our offering." Then, he places the bowl on her belly-button. She doesn't struggle. The audience respond, "Blessings are forever!"

'Hold on?' I wonder. I notice this last Stargazer's voice from somewhere, but where? I can't see clearly from where we are. The only thing we are relying on is our hearing.

Then Malachi moves forward, removes his cloak to the ground and takes Maria's legs. From where we are hiding, we can hear Maria's subtle screams echoing through the building. I turn away, disturbed by what I have just seen. Then, there is one loud, terrifying cry, a scream of death. I turn back to see what has happened, the other two are still watching.

"What's happening now?" I ask.

"It looks like they're packing up," John says.

We wait until everyone has left, then slowly make our way to the platform, careful not to be caught. Maria is still on the altar, still tied up, motionless. There is a cut to her chest, straight into her heart but weirdly, there is no blood.

"Is she dead?" Yudah asks.

"I think so!" John responds.

Malachi's cloak is still there, I grab it to cover Maria's body, then go straight to her head which is hanging lifelessly. I quickly ask the boys to help me untie her and bring her down. I hold her in my arms, eyes filling up with tears, refusing out of anger to drip. She is unmoving, and breathless with no sign of energy. Whatever happened here was not meant to be like this. Why didn't I do anything to help her? We should have stopped it! What choices was I meant to make here? What was Gabr on about? Obviously, the decision I made about giving my blood was the wrong one. If I didn't give it, Maria would not have ended up like this. This is my fault; I think to myself. Dogs can be heard barking just outside the theatre. Perhaps some guards are coming back in.

"Yeshua? We need to go now." John calmly requests. He knows that I am upset and probably full of regret. Then, he continues, "There is nothing you could have done. Leave her here before we get into any other trouble."

"The best we can do is give her a proper funeral," I call out. The two have already started walking away. Reluctantly, John returns, trying to convince me to leave Maria's body. I lay her carefully on the ground, cover her body correctly with the cloak and kiss her on the forehead before leaving. My tears finally flow, making their way all over her head, wetting it all over. John looks at me, unusually watering her head with my tears. He picks me up and we run back to our bedroom. When we get back, I quickly change the soldier back into a human being. He can't understand what has just happened. The last thing he remembers was me poking him in the stomach. Not long later, Malachi comes in to check us. He doesn't say anything. He just peeps through the doorway curtain, sees us securely guarded and safe, then leaves. I want to yell back at him, but how can I? I don't want to get into more trouble. The guard lets Yudah go back to his quarters while John and I go to bed. I can't stop getting annoyed at myself for not doing anything. I should have done something to help Maria. Why didn't I? She was so full of potential. We could have been hanging out later this week. We could have become really close friends and possibly married. I really liked her.

In the early hours of the morning, I suddenly wake up to a horrible dream. I look around and see John snoring away and the guard now sitting, leaning against a wall, asleep.

I dreamt of the sacrifice, of Maria lying on the X-shaped altar and the scream she let out as the knife penetrated through her chest. From the view of my dream, the knife is pulled out by a familiar hand and Maria opens her eyes to see me holding the knife with blood dripping down the tip of the knife. Then she screams out saying, "I am still alive!" Followed by the most terrifying laugh. Her laugh woke me up and I realised that it was just a dream.

Disturbed by the dream and the incidents of the sacrifice, I quietly sneak back to recover Maria's body and to perhaps try and see if I can escape this place with her corpse. I do not want to wake John up because it will be too much of a mission to. I turn back to check if anyone has suspected me leaving. John and the soldier are both still snoring their heads off. I make my way slowly and carefully back to the amphitheatre. There are still no guards around. 'Where are they?' I wonder. As I near the place where we left Maria's body, I can see the cloak lying there. 'Great, she's still there', I think to myself. As I remove the cloak to check the body, I realise, actually, she has gone.
CHAPTER 14: Birth of a child

"Come on, you two. This is not helping. We need to be strong." Elizabeth finally speaks up.

"Oh, no!" Mary screams, looking at Joseph, "My waters have broken!"

"Huh? What?" Joseph doesn't know how to react. He is lost, not knowing whether to attend to Mary or leave it to Elizabeth. The delivery of a child is a woman's responsibility. He looks at Elizabeth, hoping she will take over.

"Oh my, Mary! We need to get you back to our house. Joseph, can you let King Philip know, we are going back home for Mary's delivery? Ask him for a chariot!" Elizabeth is still talking when Joseph runs outside, through the patio and garden, heading for the Prince's residence. Joseph is an active person as a carpenter, always on alert and this is evident through his escape.

"Zeecha, can you start packing our things now?" Elizabeth feels like a boss, telling her husband what to do. She's in control now. They've only got one son; John. The story surrounding his birth is complicated because, before John's birth, Zeecha feel ill with a coughing disease similar to what claimed Joseph's first wife. His coughing was so bad that he lost his voice. Luckily, he survived the illness. He never gained his voice back until a week after John was born, when John was presented to the family for his naming ceremony. Everyone expected a family name, but Zeecha came up with the name John. The rest was history.

Mary is in pain; her contractions have started. The pain from her abdomen has intensified. The muscles inside her are shivering, desperately trying to figure out whether to contract or to relax. Her brain is telling her this is painful, therefore, let's push to get this baby out. However, her common sense tells her, no, this is not the right place or time. She needs to get to somewhere proper and safer. Elizabeth's house is the best place they know. They are guests here. They do not know where to go and what to do. They do not have the usual materials needed here, such as blankets for the baby. It just dawns on her, that this will be the second child she is giving birth to outside of Nazareth.

A few years ago, Mary had a miscarriage which devasted her and her husband. Thankfully, her cousin Liz guided them through such tough loss. She could always rely on her cousin for anything. Mary was sensing fear, uncertainty, and doubt. She knew coming down to Jerusalem was not a good idea but because of Liz, she knows she is in good hands.

Mary is also excited; finally, she will be giving birth to another child. She is not sure whether the child is a boy or a girl. She can sense however, that it isn't what Joseph expects. They will find out very soon. Mary does not appreciate the pain, but she knows she will definitely be in love with the result. She turns her attention to Elizabeth, who is now helping Zeecha pack up, hoping to find some consolation for her pain. Nothing. It does not take that long, when Joseph emerges, with the Prince.

"What can we do to help?" King Philip asks. A controversial question asked by a King. Everyone looks at each other, not knowing if His Majesty means it or not. He is a King. How can he ask to help? He is the head of the people, blessed and chosen by the divine. Surely, he cannot mean what he said? Philip notices that he may have insulted them by asking. He quickly turns his attention to Joseph.

"Quickly, let's take her to the infirmary." Philip is already grasping one side of Mary, waiting for Joseph to hold the other. The King knows how to look after his guests and provide them with hospitality. This is extraordinary. None of them has seen a monarch become a servant. He is an example of a servant King; humble, hospitable and helpful. He's done enough already by hosting them, wanting to help them find their lost boys. He is not what they expected. Philip is kind, gracious and compassionate. They may not know a lot about his story, but they certainly understand now that he is perhaps the best monarch that Israel has had. He is new to the throne, and they are sure to be promoting him as a genuine King after they leave.

They walk slowly and carefully, following Philip's directions, around towards the back of the King's residential area. Lamp posts located around the palace produce enough light to guide the way. Mary struggles and stumbles, but her strength keeps her going. The walk is long and arduous for her. A small property is located at the back, a hut usually assigned for wounded soldiers to recuperate in after a battle. The King has arranged for a physician, who is waiting for the patient.

"Quickly, lay her here," the physician said. He has prepared a few bundles of hay, arranged it like a bed for Mary to sit at the edge. It's comfortable. Her feet on the ground as she sits up, waiting for instructions from the doctor. As Mary thanked the men for their kindness, Elizabeth shooed them, and followed to fetch a basin of water from the barrel outside. The main water supply is through a well – only for the palace; no one else. There are barrels located all around, filled with water from the well, to be easily accessed whenever needed without going directly to the well.

As Joseph, Zechariah and Philip sit outside, they hear Mary let out a subtle scream of pain, only for a few seconds, accompanied by her cousin's gibberish talk. No one knows why women talk loudly while the birthing mother is screaming in pain. Perhaps it is to demonstrate solidarity to the mother; that her pain is noticed. Whatever the reason, it seems to work every time.

"You know that this is where my mother gave birth to me? Delivered by the same doctor too." King Philip gazes intently towards the infirmary door, reminiscing the stories his father told him.

He pauses before continuing, "Father told me how my mother nearly died giving birth to me. Her heart stopped. Thanks to the physician, he managed to bring my mother back to life."

King Philip then looks at Zechariah, not necessarily interested in him, but just to capture more memories about his father's stories. Then, he looks back at the door and continues, "My half- brother and I are two unique individuals who want different things in life. Antipas wants everything. He even wants the throne. I want him to have it, but my father warned me not to give it away before he died." King Philip pauses, still looking towards to door and gives a quick gaze towards Joseph before continuing. "Just before my father passed away, my half-brother, asked him if he could go to Rome to meet the Emperor, to Greece to learn about the culture and basically to travel and enjoy life. Father gave him so much gold for his journey, enough to help bring people out of poverty here in Jerusalem. He was gone for months. We never heard from him. Not a thank you letter and not even a note to check up on us. One day, a messenger arrived to tell us that Antipas had gotten into some financial troubles with the Armenians and had been enslaved by them until he had paid off his debt. Father used the gold meant for me to bail him out and gave the top half of Galilee to them as recompense for his son's liability. That is why the Armenian Empire boarders Galilee. Father also split up the North from the South and gave Galilee up north to Antipas to rule and kept Judea down south for me."

"Sorry, Your Majesty. So why does your half-brother want your throne?" Zechariah interrupts. He is curious. He has always been interested in everything. He enjoys studying and sharing his finds with his son. No wonder John is the way he is – just like his father.

"I do not know." King Philip gives the longest pause he has given so far after responding. He ponders and wonders what else to say.

The night is beautiful, quiet apart from a few dogs barking in the distance. The moon is in the middle of the sky, huge and clear that one can almost see its craters. Surrounding it are twinkling stars scattered all over the dark blue dome. Fires from the lamps crackle and rustle every time a crisp breeze rush past them. The beams of moonlight reflecting against the grey dirt brightens up the anxious mood of the night. The night's chill is not as cold as one would expect in spring. This is the vernal equinox which started a few weeks ago, a season for the beginning of life. How fitting that this child arrives during this season.

The King signals for a servant to come.

"Fetch some warm drinks for our guests." He instructs the servant.

"Oh, I'm alright, Your Majesty!" Joseph blurts out. At the same time, Zechariah also responds, "That would be lovely, Your Majesty!" Both men look at each other and are not sure who to agree upon.

"That's fine, we'll just bring them here, and you can decide whether to have anything or not." King Philip bids farewell for the night and departs.

Joseph and Zechariah are stunned at what they have noticed about Philip. He is different from other monarchs. They are taken aback by his generosity. Why is he like this? Is he genuine? Or is he just pretending to be someone that he is not? They doubt his intentions because they do not really know him.

No one knows King Philip that well because he has not made any public appearances. The public in Israel do not want to know him because they disapproved of his father's coronation. How dare the Romans come and take over Israel? The Roman Empire, in the public Jewish mentality, is just a bunch of hooligans who have come in and taken over their nation, and they believe they do not need them.

The aristocrats and the nobles of Israel disagree. It has been kept secret, but they are in fact responsible for inviting the Romans over. They wanted a superpower to protect their wealth from the Armenians and the Egyptians. The Romans were their best bet. They thought they had struck a good deal. Instead, the Emperor wanted to establish a King who would run the daily operations of the place. The nobles did not like it because the King was not a full Jew and instead requested for the Emperor himself to move the centre of his Empire to Jerusalem rather than Rome. Instead, the Emperor sent a representative, Valerius. To the nobles' dismay, they'd rather not suggest anything more as every suggestion seems to turn into disappointment.

The servant arrives with a jar of warm donkey milk sweetened with honey and a few baked cakes. This is a luxury supper. No one gets this kind of treatment unless you are unique. Well, according to the King, they are actually exceptional. Their scepticism has just reached the better of them. When the servant disappears, Joseph is the first to jump up to have some.

"I thought you didn't want any?" Zeecha yells out to Joseph.

In the meantime, Mary is screaming her head off in pain. Elizabeth is by her side, supporting. It has been over three hours since they started in the infirmary and the pain has reached its limit for Mary. She cannot hold it any longer. The pain is excruciating. She can feel her legs slowly going numb. Luckily, her feet are on the floor. Every time she pushes, her feet automatically ground to the floor, pushing her body upwards. Each time this happens she hopes for the baby to slide out and the pain to pass. It doesn't. She always has to remind herself to remain seated at the same time. The doctor is kneeling between her legs, examining her as the baby's head tries to find its way out into the world.

"You'll be fine, Mary. Breathe in and breathe out. Slowly in and slowly out. Do not rush it. Take your time. When the doctor says push, then you go all out!" Elizabeth's encouragement is helpful. She knows Mary is listening, even though she is in pain.

"Push! Now!" The doctor yells, and Mary gives a huge push. Nothing. She can feel the baby's head exiting but then as she relaxes, she realises it is not really there yet. She will breathe again and wait patiently as she catches her breath for another push. She has been desperately pushing for half an hour, and it has taken all her energy. She has only got a little bit left before she's absolutely exhausted. It feels like running a race, only sitting. Suddenly, in the middle of Elizabeth's constant encouragement, the doctor yells out to push again. She desperately wants this child. She's already lost one previously and she knows the consequences of losing one is like losing everything.

Mary suddenly feels an intense power to push mightily. Her strength is seen through her eyes. Her throat tightens with her veins graphically popping through her sweaty skin. At the same time, Mary can feel the baby's head, escaping her, the whole body popping out accompanied by a tiny cry, like the roar of a lion cub.

"It's a baby girl!" exclaims the doctor!

Elizabeth quickly assists to swaddle the child and bring her to Mary. Then she goes outside to get the men who both enter without hesitation. They know that although they've heard the baby cry, they cannot enter until Mary is redressed and her decency restored to normality. The stunned look on Joseph's face as he is overjoyed by the news of a baby girl quickly turns when he spots a birthmark on the baby's neck. It is a mark that he has seen before. He grabs the lamp to take a closer look. To his horror, he drops the lamp, nearly burning down the building. Zechariah goes to see what Joseph has spotted. It is indeed something they wish did not happen to them. The child bears a birthmark on her neck, it is the mark of a star. This is, no doubt, the sign of Samael. Zechariah is confused. What is this all about?
CHAPTER 15: An escape

YESHUA

The silence of the night is disturbed only by barking which echoes throughout the city. The unusual silence is as if something is happening to the world. I stand up, holding the cloak I used to cover Maria's body. 'What has happened to her body? Where has she been taken to?' I wonder. I find myself feeling very disappointed with myself again. 'Why did I leave her? Now, look at what has happened. I will miss her dearly!' My mind keeps regretting every choice I have made. Suddenly, a substantial force, befalls me, as if another person is pressing me down against my shoulders. I fall to my knees, not knowing what's happening. I resist and try and to get back up, but this force is powerful as it presses me heavier into the ground as if insisting that I remain on my bended knees. My heart pumps capriciously and my hands tightly grip the cloak, hoping that somehow it will ease the burden. The pain against my shoulders causes me to scream as I try to resist the force. The force is winning. Eventually, I will be flat, face down on the ground.

My head cannot keep upwards. It's also being forced into the dirt. The moment my face touches the ground, suddenly, without any warning, it goes light. Nothing. No more force. Everything is normal. Or is it? I notice that everything around me is slightly different from a few seconds ago. I am still in the arena, but I cannot hear the dogs anymore. The stars are gone. Everything else around me is there, in the dark, and I can generally see where things are. The X-altar, the cloak, the amphitheatre and the place where the audience watched the action earlier are all there. Then I notice someone sitting on one of the seats dressed in a grey tunic, the shoulder seam of the tunic is decorated with black pearls and around their waist, is a belt made of cobra-skin with a sword made of smoking steam hanging from it.

"Shalom, Emmanuel!" A voice comes followed by a very long pause. "I have been waiting for the right time to meet you." I look around trying to figure out if this shadowy figure is talking to me or if it is someone else I have not yet spotted. There is no one else in the arena. The figure gently stands up, noticing that I am now agitated by the mysterious occurrence.

"My name is Samael, and I am who your stories say I am, the poison, the accuser, the seducer and the destroyer. I bring no harm to you. In fact, I cannot bring any harm to you unless you bring harm to yourself. I do not exist without the choices you make. I am you, and you are me. You cannot get rid of me unless you get rid of yourself. You brought this vision upon yourself when you opened the door to the second world with the energy you possess. Remember, you are not only a man but also one with the universe. Your human form has blinded you from your other nature. You have made it possible to be a human being while also retaining your divinity. The other divine beings, who now dwell in the existence of the laws of space and time, will envy you if they find out. This human world is on the brink of destroying itself, and yet the humans are ignorant of their own actions. They risk destroying their world without realising they are also destroying the whole universe. You have come to restore everything. You hold the choice of bringing a balance or rebuilding a new balance. You are unstoppable by any powers that exist in this world, and yet you can choose to submit to the superpowers of humanity through humility. You can rid this world of its humanity and restore a generation of beings capable of a new Empire of your choosing. They will worship you and bring meaning to your divinity."

By now, Samael is standing next to me. His voice is deep, convincing and interestingly, not that terrifying. I gaze up to see his face, as he is taller than the average Jew. He has a smiling, charming, face, is as young as an athlete and definitely more handsome than Gabr.

"What do you know about Gabr?" I ask.

He walks towards the X-shaped altar, his back towards me, and says, "Everything you know about you is everything I know about Gabr. I am you, you are Gabr and Gabr is me; all in one, one in three and three in one."

I turn around as he walks past me, confused at what he's saying and wonder, 'How can he be Gabr or me?' I am more confused now than I have ever been about who I am and what I am meant to be.

"Everything about Gabr and me is about you. You just don't know this because you have taken a human form. Your humanity has limitations to knowing the truth about yourself. As you live this life, you will gradually unveil your true self. Before you became human, we did not exist individually because we were one being with you. To keep the universe in a balance, you would intervene by transforming into either me or Gabr. Then again, my personhood as Samael is separate from your personhood as Emmanuel or your personhood as Gabr. You can both be you and me at the same time. Through me, you defiled human nature by tricking Adam and Eve to eat the fruit of knowledge, nature you now possess. Human stories depicted you as fighting with Jacob through the personhood of Samael. You brought about humanity to yourself through the generosity of a self-giving couple. You knew that your birth would bring peace to their marriage as well as troubles to their hearts. Yet, you chose them because their humility will bring order to the world in which they live. You intervened this time because you knew that humanity will ultimately destroy itself the same way it did during the time of Noah. Today, I stand before you as you. I am no different from Gabr, only that you have designed me for the darkness of humanity and Gabr for its light." Then, Samael pauses. His face is sad as if he wants to tell me something I'd rather not hear. He stands behind the X-platform and looks back at me without saying anything. I do not say anything in return. We both stare at each other until a black cat comes curling around my left ankle. Then, he continues, "This cat has been there to protect you all along without you knowing it. One day, this animal will also be the last thing you will see before you restore this world."

"Since you know a lot of things about me, then who is my father because Gabr said he is my father?" I ask.

He sits on the platform and says, "Gabr is true to his personhood. He says things that you want to hear to make you feel good about human existence. It is beautiful for you to have a father because that's how humans find meaning in their lives. You use labels for them to understand you, whether that be father, mother or creator." Then he looks up towards the skies and continues, "If Gabr is your father, then surely I will be your child."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I ask.

Silence. Samael keeps looking up in the sky.

"Okay, enough with the talk now. Where is Maria?" I quickly demand.

"I do not know. She is not of my concern. Your concern should be the one who is coming." Looking down at me, he jumps from the platform, landing on the ground. His feet and body immediately disappear into the soil as he vanishes from sight. The burden that I once felt, suddenly comes back like a quick knock to my shoulders, giving me one last push before everything returns to normal.

Immediately, I look around. Yes, I can see the stars and the moon, and I can now hear the dogs barking. I can hear a baby crying from a distance and wonder about the strength of parents who are up all night, to care for those little ones. I realise that I must be back in reality. Nothing has changed much from meeting Samael. The roosters have started to crow. 'Oh no, it's nearly sunrise.' I think to myself.

Still confused about what has just happened, I decide to go back to the house to wake John up and to tell him that we have to escape from here. As I hurry back, questions keep rushing through my head about my identity and the meaning of my life. Waking John up has always been fun for me because he bolts up like he's woken up from a horrible nightmare. I must treat this one carefully though so as not to rouse the guard with John's extravagant waking. John still jolts out of bed, making the most ridiculous hand movements. Luckily, he doesn't wake the guard up. I have to hold him down and close his mouth to prevent him from screaming.

"John! It's me, Yeshua! It's about time we escape!" I whisper quietly in his ear. He nods as he gets up. Both of us creep out of the room, unnoticed. We do not know where to go. We come around the kitchen area, looking for something to use as a weapon in case someone spots us. Instead, we can hear someone bringing in a food delivery for the Royal Residence. Surely, there must be a cart. While the man is busy stacking up the delivery, we find the wagon, jump on it and cover ourselves with a thick cloth used to cover the food during its journey. We are just settling in when Yudah comes charging in to hide with us. There is no time to talk, we must remain still and as quiet as possible. It isn't a long wait until the cart starts to move, heading in the right direction, outside and away from this mad-house. The carriage stops and John itches to jump out, but we hear soldiers walking around from the clanging of their metal armour. The cart moves again. As I peep through an opening in the cloth, I can see we are out of the residence. Finally! However, the carriage is not moving fast. It is a decent drive until our next stop as the sun slowly rises. We don't mind. As we come to a halt, we hear more clanging and chatting; oh no, that means more soldiers!

'Where are we going?' We go through a small gate at the back of one property, it seems vast. This must be the kitchen area of another place, another delivery. 'We will definitely be caught.' I worry.

"Shalom Ha-Melek!" The voice of the delivery guy calls out. 'Did he say Ha-Melek - to a King?' I think to myself. I cannot believe what I have heard. I wonder if we are actually at the King's residence? Did he just acknowledge the King? John wants us to show ourselves because I told them that is what Boethius wanted; to be safe with King Philip. Chatter can be heard from outside, but we do not know how to reveal ourselves. Then, I notice the voice of a woman. 'Mum?' I think.

"Yeshua. That's your mother." John whispers to me.

"Your mother lives here?" Yudah instantly asks.

"Shhh!" I hush them both. Then, I slowly step out to reveal myself and there they are. My parents and John's parents, the delivery guy, His Majesty King Philip and Boethius, all standing there laughing. Dad is holding a baby; I know immediately that Mum must have given birth. The look of joy on my parents' faces cannot be described when they see me. By then, John has also stepped out and his parents embrace him too.

"Yeshua! Why did you do this to us? We have been worried, looking for you!" I just look at them, not really knowing what to say. The silence on my lips says it all as Mum grabs me again, giving me hundreds of kisses with tears flowing down her cheeks. These are tears of joy that she's found me. Then, she introduces me to my sister. Dad hands her to me, and I take her into my arms. Immediately, I notice the birthmark on her neck.

"What's this Mum?" I point out to her.

"It's nothing child. Don't worry about it." She is quick to brush it off.

"Shalom, Yeshua!" King Philip comes walking towards me and continues, "I have been looking for you all this time. I know what you and your parents already know about the gifts you possess. What you do not know is that powerful men are out there, desperately looking for you and wanting you dead. I am here to protect you."

"You!" I hear a scream from the cart. It is Yudah! "I know you!" He screams, pointing at Boethius. "I recognise you with another man who killed my father!" Yudah continues screaming and grabs a stick from the cart, heading towards Boethius with fury, ready to kill. The King instantly signals the guards to arrest the attacker. As he is ceased, Antipas comes rushing through the Palace court, accompanied by all his soldiers and army, the extra security he has brought along with him from Galilee. Many of King Philip's army give up and immediately submit their allegiance to Prince Antipas. Malachi is with him too together with some of his soldiers from the King's residence. They have planned this coup all along. Everyone else stands still, not knowing where to run.

"Cease everything! Arrest the King!" Prince Antipas declares to his soldiers who are rushing in with chains for the King.

"What is the meaning of this Antipas?" King Philip yells out, "This is treason! This is punishable by death!" He is still complaining when the soldiers chain up his hands and feet. We all watch, not knowing exactly what is going on.

"Release that boy!" Antipas order the soldiers who have Yudah.

"Uncle Malachi! What's going on?" Yudah calls out and runs towards his Uncle.

"Thanks to Yudah! Thanks to you we managed to find the back entrance to seize this place and to take down this Kingdom." Antipas announces. Then, he continues. "Originally, I wanted a peace treaty with my brother. However, after last night, with Malachi, Boethius and Valerius who offered a sacrifice, I had a revelation. I realised that more can be done with this Kingdom than what my half-brother would do. This Kingdom is meant to be ruled by someone with strength and will. Not by a coward."

Yudah is crying. John is furious and everyone else is confused. The delivery guy is excused, but as he leaves the property on his horse, Antipas signals for his execution. A soldier throws a spear, instantly knocking the man off his horse and killing him. Mum and Aunty Liz let out a terrible scream of fear as the man falls to the ground. Dad has by now grabbed my baby sister out of my arms for protection.

Uncle Zeecha seizes a soldier's spear, from one standing next to him, and throws it towards Antipas. The Prince's skills cannot be tested by amateurs as he snatches the flying spear, like catching a flying arrow. In return, he throws it back to Zechariah, who instantly feels the brunt of the weapon as it pierces through his chest. Uncle holds the stem of the weapon, feeling his death at hand. Aunty Liz and Mum are wailing and weeping and rush to comfort Uncle Zeecha. Dad holds my baby sister tight, hoping that he will not have the same fate. In defence, I pick up a handful of sand and chuck it on some soldiers, who instantly turn into statues. As I turn to pick up more sand, Antipas has now got his sword on my Dad's throat and my baby sister is screaming.

"Stop!" King Philip calls out.

"Brother! Listen to me! You can take my life instead, my whole Kingdom, but my request is that you do not harm the boy and his family!"

"No – take my life!" I instantly call out.

"Yeshua, what are you doing?" Mum cries out. At the same time, Dad struggles, even with a weapon at his neck, perhaps trying to put some sense into my teenage stupidity.

"Please, brother, I beg you!" King Philip's request is genuine. A true hero who puts others before himself.

Then comes a very long pause before Antipas blurts out, "Very well. We will not execute them and you on one condition. You are to denounce your throne as King and I will send you to Rome, under house arrest. You will stay there for the rest of your life. As for the boy, he is going to die today!"

As the Prince says that, Mum lets out a terrible cry, believing she may lose another child. Then, Boethius comes rushing forward and says, "Your Highness! Allow me to give you some advice." Antipas hesitates at first then agrees for him to continue.

"Your Highness! If you are going to put Philip under house arrest, surely, you can place the boy with him too. They will bring no harm to you if they are in Rome. There has been enough death for today." Boethius stares straight at the Prince, hoping that he will convince him.

After a long, thoughtful pause, Antipas says, "Very well! Neither you nor the boy is to return. I will order the soldiers to kill you if you try to do anything stupid."
CHAPTER 16: New journey ahead

YESHUA

A year ago, I could not believe the drama I had gotten myself into. It drove me here to Rome, under house arrest, guarded by Roman soldiers under the directive of the new King of Israel, King Antipas. He has friends in the right places such as Valerius and is also favoured by the Roman Emperor who supported the house arrest.

Antipas amalgamated the northern and southern territories of Galilee and Judea into one Kingdom but still under the Roman Empire. Philip and I are actually free to move around our house but not without the careful watch of soldiers. I'm the only one who is permitted to go to the market to get food for us, again with soldiers accompanying me. Whenever we need fast food, I just change rocks into bread. In fact, I have only done it once.

I feel for Philip, who has lost everything including his Kingdom and his livelihood, through his half-brother's coup. In the last 12 months, I have learnt so much about Philip. He has respect for humanity and loves his Jewish people. He has shared a lot of his story and his relationship with his father, mother and half-brother. Philip had a problematic upbringing and yet, he did not take up the throne to find power. Instead, he took it to find humility.

Our Roman dwelling is simple. It has a bath, a kitchen and a lounge with two beds in, separated by a curtain, all within one space. Outside, we have a big garden that is five times the size of our house. We enjoy and relax in the garden and take a few walks now and then within the property. The place is surrounded by a wall with one gate which is guarded by two soldiers. The garden is also guarded by two other soldiers who sometimes accompany me to the market.

My hair has grown longer now, I look more like an adult. I have developed a bit of a beard. My family wouldn't possibly recognise me. I miss my family, friends and everyone back in Nazareth. I wonder how they are doing as I walk back home from the market with two soldiers with whom I have become friends with. Now and then, when I meet a girl in the market place, she reminds me of Maria. I wonder how she is. I think about her every night before I go to bed, regretting that I did not do anything to help her. I know she's alive – somewhere. One day, I hope to find her again.

As I'm coming through the pathway, there are more cobblestones everywhere. Rome is busier than Jerusalem with more people. Latin is the common language here, and I have managed to speak a little thanks to the soldiers who've helped me. People are friendlier here and more open to discussing ideas. I cannot stop for too long in the market without being pushed to move along by the soldiers.

We are still a distance from the gate when I notice something different. There are no guards there. As we come closer, the guards behind me suddenly drop down, both at the same time; each shot by a fierce arrow to the heart which instantly killed them both.

The assassin is hidden from sight. I'm still safe for now. I freeze, waiting for my turn to be taken down by the killer. I think to myself, 'So this is how my life is going to end. Antipas has finally ordered our death. Philip is possibly dead. All of the things that Gabr and Samael told me have now come to an end.'

I haven't experienced any more apparitions from the two for almost a year now. I wonder what has happened with this universe talk and the three worlds and saving the human race. I suppose we have averted everything with my arrest and King Philip's sacrifice. Here I am, locked up, doing nothing but living each day as it comes. Now, this! Two dead soldiers who are probably innocent. Perhaps that's it: the sacrifice we have made by being here saved the universe.

"Emmanuel!" A familiar voice calls from the house. I recognise this voice. He's someone I know but how does he know that name? As I enter the house, I notice a young woman sitting across the room. 'Maria?' I say her name in my head. A sudden sense of excitement captivates me. Then, Boethius emerges, smiling, standing together with his grandson, Philip.

"I'm confused," I say.

'Why now? What's happened now that it has taken them a whole year to come rescue us.' I wonder.

"We're glad the two of you are safe. It has taken us a while to find out exactly where you are located, and I've brought an experienced soldier with me, one of Antipas' former assassins." Boethius explains everything.

"I've always wondered why the sacrifice by the Order of the Star did not work last year as planned. I noticed as we were packing up that Maria's body never bled – therefore her life never left her. I've wondered why until I realised that the blood used by Malachi was your blood, Yeshua!" He goes on. "I was there. I burnt and placed the frankincense spices on Maria. I saw her heart pierced. However, your blood on the altar became the seal of blood to save her soul. Her soul never left this world to be replaced by that of Samael. Instead, Samael has found a new way into this world; more dangerous than we expected, to become a human person, in the form of a woman. She will destroy this world!" He pauses and looks straight at me.

"I knew you were there!" I called out to Boethius who isn't interested in that information.

"We are here to save this world from destruction, Yeshua! We are here to get you to help us get your baby sister. She is going to bring danger to this world. You and Philip will be snuck back to Galilee where the two of you must bring the child. Your parents trust you. We have to be careful not to be detected by Antipas.

Then, we must take the baby to Mount Sinai, where you, Emmanuel, must sacrifice her life. Samael's soul is living inside her, so she must die to send Samael back to the other dimension." The High Priest's face is serious and he means every word. Philip is looking on, agreeing to the new plan.

How can you react to such a request? My mind is telling me that this is ridiculous. Why would I do that to my baby sister? What would my mother do to me if she finds out?

However, my heart is telling me, perhaps they are actually talking sense. It makes sense, according to my apparitions.

'Where is Gabr? Can he guide me?' I think to myself.

As I come around the kitchen area, I notice the corpses of the other two guards lying on the floor, blood now slowly flowing across the ground, the blood of sacrifice for their dedicated duty.
BEHIND THE STORY

The book is inspired by the Covid19 events with hidden meanings throughout the whole story, leaving it to the imagination and to interpretation. The story is fictional but with character names often found in biblical narratives. However, the persona of each character is inspired by real people, the author witnessed during the New Zealand lockdown.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Denis Tutaka comes from the small island of Mauke, Cook Islands, who moved to currently live in New Zealand. He is a former seminarian of the Pacific Regional Seminary, Suva, Fiji. He graduated from a conjoint degree, Bachelor of Arts and Bachelor of Theology from the University of Auckland. He spent most of his university years working part-time as a Catholic Lay-Chaplain. After university, he worked for De La Salle College, Auckland as a Campus Minister where he developed the passion to become a teacher there. He completed his Graduate-Diploma in Teaching in 2016 and is currently studying for his Masters in Secondary Schools Leadership through Victoria University of Wellington.

