Owakar & The Warrior

Updated 7/30/24

Owakar - Ch 2.2

[Ages- Sarah 8   David 11   BH 18   J,Sg,Dr, Ga 30   31st year reign of]

On the waning crescent moon of late summer, in the thirty-first year of King Edal’s reign, all of Owakar’s direct wards were asleep or away from Lorness, and the rest of humanity in his jurisdiction was preparing for their time of rest. The angel, the watcher of Lorness, was off duty

He read about the fire, knew who had reported it, and where they loitered about. Owakar headed to the capital, High Keep, to the tavern on the outskirts of town, the King’s Cup to resolve some niggling questions regarding the incident.

Owakar, when he could, also directed other angels to help those in the Density and on earth. It was tricky to work on their behalf. Any interference might harm them. For example, giving them too much information could lead them to pride, or removing an obstacle might obstruct their character development. The key to any direction was to trust God and walk in love.

Tonight’s journey started when he solidified in the shadows of a clump of trees, before stepping onto the road. Several men looked at him, as he hiked up his breeches, like he had just come from relieving himself. Having lived in the Celestial Sea, named for the chaos unleashed by the Serpent's rebellion, he and the rest of the heavenly host, who lived below the holy realm of God, had no need for such bodily functions. However, he’d learned in recent moons that this was a customary reason for returning from the trees—an experience he had recorded on his luach on more than one occasion.

His luach was a device that connected him to the Book of Life—the chronicle of the God of Truth—their God, who lived far above in the highest heaven. The Book of Life contained all of the people, places, and every event throughout time. Time that had aged since the Serpent’s rebellion. With the gardens destroyed, all that remained were ruins, but as a watcher, he was sent through the barrier, between the sea above, and the atmosphere of the earth, and below to the realm of man to write what he witnessed, adding it to the sacred book’s moments.

In response to his thoughts, the luach began to bubble up passages from the Book of Life that somehow always applied to the situation.

[He that doeth good is of God: but he that doeth evil hath not seen God.]

[But without trust it is impossible to please him: for he that comes to God must believe that he is, and that he is a rewarder of them that diligently seek him.]

He sighed. There was so much to learn about the people of the Density.

***

Having arrived at The King’s Cup, he followed some of its patrons inside. Several rough men sat at a table, talking in low tones. Owakar recognized them, guardians for the people of High Keep. The chair’s leg squeaked across the floor as he pulled it out and joined them.

The one with shaggy brown hair, Reaven, looked up. “Owakar, what brings you here?”

Owakar ran his eyes over the guardians, who appeared as peasants, with dusty cloaks and three-day whiskered faces. Then he looked to Guendal and back to Reaven, smiling. “I’ve observed Steven Blackhawk from the Celestial Sea and read of his doings in the luach. I heard about the fire and how Steven Blackhawk was accused. Is this so, and was anyone hurt?”

“Ah yes, the fire. Blackhawk was behind it, that is true, but one can hardly blame him,” Guendal said with a chuckle. “Our ward, Karl Fortuch, has been tormenting him since the boy arrived. He’s out to ruin him.”

The other guardian, Reaven, shrugged. “But the shacks were about to fall down anyway, and no one was hurt. All in all, it’s an improvement.”

Owakar snorted.

Guendal turned to look at Owakar. “But more curiously, what’s Blackhawk to you, anyway?”

“He’s someone connected to Lorness that I have been following. Granted, I had no compassion for the boy when I first encountered him, seeing him as a loyal pawn of Gaelib Melazera, but I should have remembered that great upheavals often occur due to simple changes of heart. I should have been less cynical.” Owakar sighed. “In my defense, I had a limited view of things as a messenger, with no access to a luach.”

Reaven and Guendal nodded.

“I didn’t know how he tragically lost his family, only to be ensnared by the despicable earl and everything he’d gone through there—It wrenches my heart to think of it. He is a man now, and a seeking man at that.”

Guendal leaned toward Owakar. “When we realized what was truly happening between Karl and Blackhawk. We saw an opportunity to teach Karl a lesson. Reaven here,” Guendal said, “tossed the stolen silver goblet into the open so the commander and everyone else saw it.”

 “Did J’shua approve that?” Owakar scanned the luach.

“He didn’t, but when he heard of it, he laughed, then said it was well done,” Reaven said.

The two guardians bumped their cups together.

 Owakar shook his head, but then looking to Guendal with a smirk he said, “I expect after today’s mishap, he might not be coming to the tavern tonight.”

Reaven smiled. “We know. We are cynical about Karl Fortuch, but his aunt continues to pray for him. Even though the man won’t listen to us, we keep trying. We talk to him whenever he’s here, unless something prevents us—or him from coming. Right now it seems to me, Fortuch’s best hope is to be demoted enough times to change his ways. Otherwise, he could face something much worse.”

Owakar nodded in agreement.

Guendal gestured toward himself. “How do you like our disguises?”

“You fit in well. I, on the other hand, should leave. I can’t be seen talking to the likes of you,” Owakar said with a grin. As he turned to the door, he said, “Keep an eye on Blackhawk for me, would you?”

“Our pleasure.” Reaven raised his tin cup.

Owakar listened for the latch of the tavern door to click behind him as he left the tavern and continued walking down the empty road, not a soul in sight. Only a few rare candles burned inside windows across the road. When he passed into the shadow of a tree, he disappeared.

He hadn’t mentioned it was Steven Blackhawk’s Little Soldier, Sarah Otual, the daughter of Jonathan and Rebekah Otual, who set him on this path of questions. Then again, why would he? She was a secret, an important secret.

[For every one that asks receives; and he that seeks finds; and to him that knocks it shall be opened.]

Owakar Ch 5

Growls and shouts from next door made Owakar frown a moment before relaxing back into the hand-carved barber’s chair. Its familiar creak and soft leather, the earthy scents of herbal dyes and therapies escaping from a dozen clay pots, bled his anxiety away.

The redhaired barber banged his fist on the wall. “Quiet over there!” Then with implements in hand, eyebrows arched in question, he awaited instructions.

Owakar brushed his curly brown hair out of his eyes. “Do something different. I’m not a messenger now, scurrying about informing angels of orders, or providing humans with words of wisdom or knowledge. I’m managing guardians and reporting directly to J’shua. Now that I am the Watcher over the Province of Lorness, I need to look more respectable.”

“I could sculpt your curls like so,” the barber said as he lifted up Owakar’s hair with both hands.

Owakar’s face pinched, looking into the mirror, imagining what the stylist had in mind.

“Or perhaps short, but leaving prominent sideburns?” The redhead pulled all Owakar’s hair, tight, away from his face with one hand and pulled it down in front of his ears with the other.

Owakar’s frown deepened. “No.”

The redhead barber hovered, eyebrows arched in question, waiting. Then he asked, “Same as last time?”

Now with more important tasks and even greater consequences to shoulder, he was mired in indecision. About his hair, he should have been able to decide in a moment. It grew back after all. Owakar sighed. “Yes,” he said with a polite smile.

The barber nodded into the mirror and set to work.

Owakar kept his hair long enough to tie into a tail. A length common to successful people in both the Celestial Sea and the earthly realm of Lorness.

The one-chair barber shop was wedged between a gaming hall and a tavern, so laughter, shouts, and muted arguments streamed from either side.

Waving the scissors this way and that, the stylist pouted as he trimmed an errant strand. “Sir Owakar, what do you have planned for the day?”

“Just the usual, Cranik, watching and writing, and more writing.” He wouldn’t say anything that might get back to the Warrior, or some other disobedient brother.

Cranik swiveled the chair a bit. His white tunic was snug across his broad chest. His big hands danced with grace, to and fro, like hummingbirds. “Hmm, I heard that as the people in the Density change, we in the Celestial Sea change with them.” He continued trimming with a snip here and a pull through his comb. Another snip there and a comb.

“I’ve heard that as well. But I haven’t been a watcher very long so I do not see a pattern.”

“Hmm,” Cranik murmured again. “Even though most angels consider humans an annoying reminder of the secret the God of Truth kept, they are infatuated with everything human and imitate their ways. Like a moth to the flame.”

“Perhaps that which they hate, or fear, or admire draws them.” Owakar trusted his creator, the God of Truth, so he neither hated nor feared humans, but he too was besotted with those in his charge.

Outside, glass broke. A loud crash caused them to turn toward the window. Peering through the inverted words painted on the glass, Owakar saw a wicker basket fly through the air, impaled by a sword. Then a crowd of guardians, big and brawny, dragged a skinny messenger from the gaming room.

“Hey, let me go. I was just saying what I think,” the struggling messenger cried.

One guardian, a burly fellow with rippling muscles, gripped the squirming messenger by the hair. “You were spreading discordant rumors about the trial of the Serpent, and the God of Truth, and J’shua Ha Mashiach.”

“We’re free to state our opinions,” the scrawny one said as he finally jerked loose, a fist raised in defiance. “Who are you to interfere?”

“I’ll tell you who I am. I’m the one that’s going to teach you to be more respectful,” the guardian spat.

Owakar pointed at the commotion. “One doesn’t become a guardian if you were small and petite. Messengers tend to be trim and fast. The God of Truth loves individuality as much as he loves free will. And free will is the main cause of all this. If we were ruled by instincts alone like the animals, would it be better?”

“Oh my, no.” The barber leaned in closer. “Then the only thing to break up my day would be picking lice out of my brother’s hair.”

“I suppose it would be a boring life.” Owakar chuckled.

The redhead snipped more brown locks. “It’s been unusually quiet of late. That ruckus is more typical of this district.”

From outside the messenger yelled, “In the Celestial Sea, every angel is a law unto himself. We’re all free to do as we please.”

Cranik sighed. “Arguments abound and often fights break out. Since we are quick to self-heal, there is no reason not to fight.”

“True,” Owakar agreed, enjoying the sensations and sounds of Cranik’s work about his head. “But above, within the bounds of the third heaven, God’s Seraphim, his Throne Warriors patrol, guarding God’s holy place. There is little disruption there.”

Cranik tousled Owakar’s head and bits of brown fluff sifted to the floor. “Oh, yes. It would be great if we had a few of them around here. They would throw troublemakers into sheol, to wait out their sentence. And that is a gray, boring place. Like most prisons I suppose.”

The guardian gave the vocal messenger a final kick. After stumbling a few steps, the bruised angel ran off and the guardians went back inside. The other angels gawking up and down the street returned to their amusements.

After a few more snips, Cranik asked, “Any news of the trial of the Serpent? Everyone here has an opinion about it.”

“No, I am not involved in that conversation.” Owakar said. “No one knows how much longer the pretrial motions will take. It could be another millennium. I do know, everyday more angels are deposed by one side or the other.”

With more precise snips and falling hair, the barber worked on. “My friend says that everyone is unsettled by the upcoming addition of humans to our society, even those loyal to the God of Truth and his son J’shua.”

“I know, it was bad enough when there were only two of them in the Garden. Now there are over four hundred fifty million that could be brought in. And they keep breeding.”

 Cranik gasped, his sheers still and quiet. “Will all of them be allowed in the renewed heaven and earth? We’ll be overrun. We’ll be the minority.”

“Fear not. I’m sure the God of Truth has a plan for that.” Owakar looked Cranik in the eyes.

Cranik let out a breath and returned to cutting. “You’re right, you’re right.”

It seemed everyone’s unease was pricked by the subject. The Serpent still sowed chaos in the Celestial Sea and in the earth, the Density, through his followers.

This minor brawl was not his affair. Owakar looked in the mirror. “Wonderful! I look spectacular. Well done as usual, Cranik. I will send my friend Alocrin to see you. He’s looking a little rough these days.”

“Thank you, Owakar. Be well!”

As he left the barber shop, the little bell over the door tinkled in his wake.

***

After leaving the barber and the Celestial Sea, Owakar waited imperceptible to human eyes near the castle. He had responsibilities in the Density, in the Province of Lorness. When J’shua spoke to him today, he gave him leave to appoint assistants so that he could provide better overwatch for the Otuals, as a special project.

Why has adversity sent the four family members in different directions? I thought I understood, but only predicted one of them. These humans are surprising. I never know what they’ll do next.

He had no idea what had happened to Sarah. The luach presented no information for him. All references to her were old reports of his own. Blackhawk gave her to a woman who took her south. That’s all he knew.

Today was the last half-moon of early autumn in the thirty-third year of the Reign of King Edal.  The luach warmed in his pocket and he took it out. He smiled as he read it, ever so happy to have input from the Book of Life always nearby. He’d had no idea how much time it took to watch and record. Nor the importance of the evidence a watcher collects. The device glowed and chirped. More passages of the Book of Life appeared.

[But as for you, you thought evil against me; but the God of Truth meant it unto good, to bring to pass, as it is this day, to save much people alive.]

[When the enemy shall come in like a flood, the Spirit of the God of Truth shall lift up a standard against him.]

They always set his mind to racing to correlate the passage with something happening or that he had seen or done. After much pondering, and sometimes much time passing, a realization would dawn.

Even when evil is done, the God of Truth uses it for good, an ultimate good, which he can see from the highest heaven. Like Sarah being taken from her family. No one knows what Sarah Otual will become.

With a whistle the luach alerted him that Rebekah rode into Lorness from the river road so Owakar sat on his favorite bench, watching her and began writing in the luach. Rebekah Otual had woven her way into communities all over Freislicht. When she was outside his jurisdiction of Lorness Province, Owakar relied on entries in the luach from his assistants or other watchers.

Owakar had once scoffed at her secret group, Licht Gegen… He shook his head. The name still made him laugh. It meant ‘light against.’ That wasn’t even a complete thought. He had to admit they did clever work.

Because she prayed about everything, he could add all this evidence into the luach, to hold against the Serpent at his trial.

Her actions in Lorness four years ago had caused far reaching effects when she’d prayed and sang spiritual songs in the cave in the Bloody Rocks. She was spontaneous. He would not underestimate her again. If the Warrior knew she had done it, he would attack her, so Owakar followed her movements, shielding her from the notice of demons.

As Licht Gegen grew, this would become more and more difficult.

Her cover as a traveling plow merchant was remarkably successful. She was growing wealthy. Yet, in order to gather intelligence and pass secret messages, she needed to be inconspicuous, so she changed nothing. Instead, she diverted all her profits into the organization.

She again acquired two young assistants; orphans raised by members of Licht Gegen. Owakar chuckled when she babied them, serving them their meals and making sure they were well rested. She had difficulty treating them like an unrelated man would. She was still a mother at heart.

Owakar Ch 7

Owakar skimmed the luach for updates as he recalled the five years since J’shua Ha Mashiach chose him as the watcher over Lorness Province. Biting his lip, he sent a message to his mentor, Alocrin, and shoved the luach back in his tunic. He left the Celestial Sea and materialized near the Lion and Tiger Inn. He hummed a local tune as he entered.

The sun was at the right location above the horizon. He frowned as he looked from his empty cup to the full one that waited for his friend. Alocrin was late. He was late a lot.

Just as he was about to take the other cup, Alocrin came through the door.

“Where have you been?” Owakar said sour-faced, arms crossed.

Alocrin’s face fell. “I’m sorry, Owakar, I’ve had a difficult thing to do. I came as soon as I could get away.” His eyes pleaded.

Owakar’s expression softened. “I know, you must have much more difficult tasks than I, a mere beginner at this management stuff.” He sighed. “I don’t suppose you can tell me what J’shua’s got you up to?”

Alocrin shook his head. “No, sorry O, don’t ask.”

“Well, I’ve been studying some old records. Jonathan Otual has evaded Earl Melazera’s soldiers who pursue him every time he enters Freislicht. Even now he follows the call of the spirit into the surrounding countryside to spread the word of the God of Truth.” Owakar paused. “I want to help him. Can I help him?”

“Of course,” Alocrin answered, “You are helping him. You help him, every time you do your duty. Remember, …all things work together…”

“Oh, right.” Owakar chuckled.

Alocrin smiled. “The Writings are not just for them. We are the children of the God of Truth as well.”

“Jonathan visited the Knights’ School and learned that his wife was still alive, but on a mission of her own. The man has no idea what that might be, her letter gave him no details, but he trusts she is led by the spirit of God. He left a letter with Crispus for her, before setting out for Tarinland.” Owakar paused again as one of the serving girls brought two steaming bowls and left. “I wonder what the God of Truth might be working on there.”

Alocrin inhaled a loud breath as he picked up the spoon. “Something good, I am sure. What of the remarkable Rebekah?” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Is she still masquerading as a man?” He slurped the savory stew.

“Oh, yes. At the start, she’d only intended to find her daughter, but upon realizing there was a greater evil growing in the country, she accepted the call of J’shua to spy out the evil ones and recruit others who wish to end the growing blight upon the good people of Freislicht.”

“And what of the daughter?” Alocrin stopped, his dripping spoon hovering between the bowl and his lips. “Still missing?”

“Yes. But I think not missing, hidden.”

Alocrin looked surprised. “Hidden?”

“Yes, hidden. J’shua has hidden her from everyone. All the luach tells me is that she is safe and well.”

“Hmm. You may be right. This is exciting. You are in the middle of a great thing.”

“Perhaps, but I feel I’m in over my head. I am frozen, unsure of what to do. What not to do.”

“Trust Him, Owakar. You are good. Act with love. You’ll see. It will work out.” Alocrin took a few more bites, studying the odd shaped lumps of different colored root vegetables. “And what of Otual’s son?”

Owakar’s face brightened, happy to talk about the boy. “David Otual finished a four-year apprenticeship as a horse breeder and entered the Knights’ School. According to the prayers of Daikon Baxter, he is done training and…” He held his breath for dramatic effect, then raised his brows and clapped. “…he’ll become a Knight of J’shua tomorrow.”

Alocrin looked up. “Wonderful. I had heard the group in the Shining Mountains is, so far, untainted by a lust for superiority and control.” He took a bite of another lump. “Mmm, that one’s sweet.” He sighed. “It seems inevitable that all organizations fall to selfishness, in the end. Some groups hold to their good intentions for a year. Others for decades. But this group has maintained their simplicity and humbleness for one hundred and fifty years. Their oldest and wisest daikons have managed to avoid usurping God as the overseers of the young knights they teach.”

“That is what I read in my research, as well,” Owakar said. “The luach tells that the knights are taught to submit to God and each other in daily study of the Writings, manifestation of the gift, abundant sharing of their temporal things, bearing witness of truth, and in fellowship. Their rigorous adherence to these conventions, strengthens their unity and trust.”

Owakar smiled with pride, until he saw Alocrin’s frown.

“It is truly remarkable.” Alocrin agreed. “But it won’t last. Not unless future leaders are as humble and wise as the two old knights, Daikon Theodomo Crispus and Daikon Sylvanus Baxter.” Alocrin paused. “Only time will tell.”

Sounds of a scuffle and Owakar’s astonished expression, caused Alocrin to turn.

A man stumbled in and fell to the floor, bleeding.

Owakar heard the prayers of a dozen followers of J’shua, sharing a knowing look with Alocrin.

Daryl, the innkeeper, whistled and several men rushed to the injured man.

In moments, two carried him into the kitchen and a third wiped up the mess on the floor.

Alocrin tossed his head toward the men. “Go ahead, Owakar, you can respond to this one.”

Owakar grinned and entered the kitchen. As soon as they laid the wounded man on the table, Owakar dissipated into the daylight and spoke to each of them.

Daryl ripped the shirt to reveal a knife wound, he applied pressure and prayed with his understanding, while the others prayed in the spirit.

Owakar felt the holy energy and placed his hands on Daryl to encourage him and joined in their prayers. After a few moments he perceived the healing had begun. Once he knew the man would live, Owakar passed through the door, materialized while out of sight, and returned to Alocrin still sitting at their table. “I am impressed by them. It always felt good coming here, but now I see, there is holy work happening here.”

Alocrin’s eyes twinkled. “Yes, we should come here more often.”

Daryl approached them with a bow. “I am so sorry we have neglected you. Is there any way I can serve you?”

Alocrin answered, “We have no need. We are content. How is your friend?”

“He will recover. It is a great blessing. Thank you for asking.”

Owakar put a hand on the innkeeper’s shoulder. “We will pray for him.” As he removed the hand, Daryl shook it. “Thank you, sir. Thank you. I hope you will return.”

“We will, Daryl. We love your cooking. Best food in Freislicht.”

That brought a huge grin to the innkeeper’s face, who bowed again and retreated to the kitchen.

As they left, Owakar slapped Alocrin on the back. “It doesn’t get better than that.”

“No, no better than that, O.”

They walked into the woods and disappeared.

The Warrior Ch 11

The room was dark, lit only by a few candles and a brazier that glowed red hot. The Warrior threw bits of flesh into it, offerings from the six local heathens. They bowed before an altar, seeking his blessing. He and the demon remained in the unseen realm.

The heathens chanted their repetitious prayers as one of them cut another small animal into chunks on the altar.

“Where have you been? I have been waiting for you for over an hour.” The Warrior touched the forehead of each of his worshippers. Each fell to the ground, lying in bliss. “Did you finish your tasks?”

“Yes, my Lord.” The demon cowered, hiding from the dark angel’s scowl. “Caileagh Melazera was late. However, I have relayed your wishes to her in visions and I checked on all my other hosts in Farr. Following the female that met with Caileagh, I came to Caswell. There I encouraged one of my black-robe hosts to rob her carriage, so Caileagh now has an excuse to  help her. She got roughed up quite bit, but should otherwise be fine. The driver and a boy were killed though. The man called Quorin blames his cousin for his rashness.”

Still scowling, the Warrior paced. “I suppose your tardiness was productive, so I’ll let it go unpunished this time. Return to Caileagh Melazera so that she remains focused on her tasks, but get her to Caswell to follow up on your new endeavor.”

The demon bobbed lower and lower as he backed away, then scurried out of sight as a lesser angel strode into the room. “Great one, we have another rite to attend. They gather in Fairness Crossing.”

“I know, Panther. My followers grow.” His rattlesnake smile spread wide. “Let’s see what treats they have brought me.”

Owakar Ch 27

Owakar whispered Words of Life to those that could hear him in Lorness,

[Love consists in this: not that we loved God, but that He loved us and sent His Son as the atoning sacrifice for sin.]

Even though the Warrior was away manipulating his latest plaything in Farr Castle, the gloom remained over Lorness as his minions stirred up misery. But the Book of Life always provided encouragement for himself, and sometimes for the earthly followers of J’shua in the Density.

His luach came alive. Line after line rose up. There would be a wedding in Caswell.

“Why is this of interest?” Owakar muttered to himself, flicking through the glowing words.

More words, more words, then finally, David Otual’s name was large and illuminated. He poked it to learn more. The son of Rebekah and Jonathan would marry soon.

“Will they go? Do they know?”

The Otual’s son had attracted the Warrior’s eye. Owakar sent a message to Temana, a lead guardian in Caswell. “Do you have everything in hand?”

“Peace, Owakar, you’re not the only competent one. We are ready to help them.”

Contrite, Owakar responded, “Yes, of course you are. I didn’t mean to imply you weren’t. The family has become special to me. But they don’t stay in one place like most of those entrusted to us.” The prayers of each Otual echoed from the Book of Life on Owakar’s luach. And it reminded him of the passage:

[Keep me from the snares which they have laid for me, and the gins of the workers of iniquity.]

Owakar paced up and down stone path.

I will need help. Certainly Rebekah will go. No sense of self-preservation in that woman. But will Jonathan attend?

He swiped and swiped looking for any information to help him plan for this fiasco. The Warrior will his minions there. Most likely, Melazera’s spies have informed him.

This is a disaster.