Antioch: Step Eleven

Everyone around them still gawked at the sky, swimming in the ethereal sounds that floated through the skies and fell to meet their senses. Zepp was glad to have this conversation in private, and Saint Wire's confidence separated them from the rest of the world like a rocket ship to the moon. They held eye-contact with one another as they spoke, and the pupil was reminded of why he trusted his master. His ancient eyes were deep, full of worlds Zepp had never seen and suns he'd never basked in and winds he'd never been carried by. The elder had stood at the foot of life and hiked his way up its cliffs with strides of passion and valor. Wisdom was his dearest friend, and he treated her with dignity. And the colony loved him for it. They respected him. Which is why Zepp's puny little heart leapt when he nodded slightly.

“Then go with my blessing, take with you whoever is willing, let no man falter then, and beware the burning pillars who chase. And son,” he said with a wrinkle in his jaw that Zepp thought might be a smile. “We'll see you when you return.”