While tugging their remains, I was forced to stop more frequently and decided that it would be necessary to unload the extra baggage; being only one man, I could not carry four times the weight. Once opening their bags, I realized quickly that those brothers had been in these chambers for a very long time, for they had many artifacts and many pages of writings, which documented their travels and their finds and even some battles. I sat down, in a small chamber and lit a candle, so I could begin reading the writings and decide which I needed to bring to the church and which I did not. But, realizing that the pages were not fully intact, knowing where to begin became a difficult task. So, while deciding what to do with the pages, which were in tatters, I started reading the top most page.
Immediately the words gave me hope. I knew instantly that these men were men of God and that they had come in search of evil, just as I had, in order to destroy the devil and to bring peace to the world. The words I read had been written centuries before; and, just as the church believes today, the brothers came into the center of the earth because that is where hell was said to be; and, in their opinion, if they were to find the devil, who was but an angel, and destroy him then everything would be set right again.
Before finding the Three Brother’s bags, I had been down in my spirit and it made me feel worse in heart to know that they had not lived, but in fact died in this place. In some way, it made me think that I would not make it out alive, for they were more than I in number and had been more than me in spirit; but, after I found their scrolls, which were burnt and scorched and torn, I was lifted because of the words it held and of the truth I found there. I realized that I could not be destroyed by evil because Jesus had saved me from that end and that evil would not prevail because sin had been obliterated once and for all.
Among the writings, I found parts of the bible, which I think must have been brought by them; because of the penmanship used and also by the color of the ink, I knew that the version of the bible I held was centuries old; and, while looking at the style of the lettering, it didn‘t seem to make sense to me, for they had written it in such a beautiful character, unlike today‘s writing. It seemed that we had digressed in beauty instead of progressed.
I knew from their writing that there wasn‘t anything to worry about in these caves or in this world except the relation you have with God Almighty and even if faced with death you have only glory to look forward to. The letters that The Three Brothers had penned and had left in this dismal place produced such a calm in my heart that I regretted ever thinking of burning it up. I knew that the devil had put that thought in my mind because he knew that the writings would give me hope and draw me closer to God.
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From what I've read so far, this work has been toilsome for you, that is, you've given great thought to it. I went back to your other writings so that I would be "on the same page" in the story line, but honestly, when I saw that each one seemed like one big paragraph with thoughts, settings, perceptions that ran together? I closed it. I much prefer to "see" what it is you are "showing". Although I fancy myself a writer, I am also a reader and I want to be shown. People love gardens, but we love them more when another has done all the groundwork; done all the labor. We just want the flowers! You can have the sweat. Like it or not, that is the world of the writer. I would like to "see" this with you and after you've done all the work I will then, and likely only then, come and see the garden you've grown for us. I see the potential for a good story here, but it got lost in all the words.