Fire. Hatred. Passion. Violence. Death. Despair. All because of one group of people...
Alexis' hands burned as her eyes flashed open. Her gift going into hyper drive, drawing her deeper into the manuscript she was fact checking. But something was wrong. The Religious Wars weren't caused by the Christians. Desperately, as images of death and hopelessness poured into her mind's eye, she jerked her fingers away, breaking the contact and ultimately, the stream of images.
She was one of the few people to been born after the Religious Wars with a gift. Though, it wasn't particularly strong, it did have its advantages. Through a single touch, she could insert herself into the histories and learn. So there she sat, in the dimly lit corner of a library.
Weakly, Alexis rubbed her seared fingers together and sighed heavily. It was her duty to try to correct this—but how? The only reason she knew the truth was the accidental discovery of a forgotten journal from a Christian leader. She could hear his words clearly and she knew what she had to do.
"I fear, that in the near future, those who continue to cling to Faith in Christ Jesus will be blamed for circumstances that they did not choose. Even as I prepare in my last hours..."
Alexis swallowed as she dug through her pack. That manuscript--the leather bound journal held the key to what really happened in the hours before the nuclear war began. She had secreted it away from the watchful eyes of the Council of Elders, much like she had done almost three years ago with the scroll that held the ancient teachings of Jesus. Where was it? It was in her pack just this morning.
She dug deeper and grinned triumphantly as her fingers brushed against a notebook. Carefully, she eased it out of her pack and placed it next to the manuscript. She placed one hand on each of the manuscripts and allowed her gift to build. She knew there had to be a way to combine the two manuscripts. Both the journal and the manuscript contained some part of the truth—but both were missing parts.
She knew Christians didn't start the war. And she knew the Council of Elders wanted to place the blame of the war on the Christians. Alexis couldn't let that happen. It was time to see what her gift really could do. She took a deep breath and whispered a prayer before concentrating and allowing her gift to flow freely. Two voices needed to become one in a desperate emotion.
The future generations needed to know the truth—no matter the price.
Alexis squeezed her eyes shut in concentration, trying to block out the strange light that seemed to be filling the room. She could feel a battle rage around her, her mind and body being pulled in two different ways. She gritted her teeth and grunted.
"No! I will do this! They have to know!"
She pressed on, feeling a generation's pain etch itself into her mind and across her heart. She cried out in desperation, a new fear filling her heart.
What if she wasn't strong enough for this? NO! She didn't have to do this alone!
With her hands firmly on the two documents, she stood, knees trembling with the effort and continued to pour herself out in her desperate attempt to bring the two manuscripts together. This was her sacrifice--one for her generation...and those that would follow her.
There was a flash of light and Alexis flew backwards. With a loud crash, she hit the back wall and the air was filled with sounds of a few aids running to help her. Weakly, she waved them off, her eyes never leaving the table. After several minutes of two persistent aids pestering her to let them help her, Alexis relented and allowed them to help her up.
Slowly, the three of them made their way to the table and Alexis blinked in surprise. All that remained of the leather bound notebook was its covering. Scraps of paper fluttered through the air. The aids looked to her and then at the table. Alexis could hear their unspoken questions and she cleared her throat.
"I was experimenting with my gift. And something went wrong."
Amazingly, the aids accepted her excuse and slowly left the room. Carefully, she rested a trembling hand on the one remaining manuscript and smiled.
Two voices had become one. Both histories were being told.
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