K. Blackthorn

    The day began like any other.  Seeker woke with the dawn, washed his face and hands in the basin by his bed, and went downstairs for a modest breakfast of fresh-baked bread and water.  Then he made his way to the tower.

    His mind swirled with verb conjugations.  He had just finished reading about the life of the Prince in one ancient tome and had begun learning the alphabet of another.

    As he stepped out of the cottage, a song drifted from the wheat fields—sweet and melodious, the birds singing in perfect harmony.  His thoughts of study vanished.  He had to find the source.

    He rounded the corner and saw her—walking gracefully through the wheat fields, her delicate fingers brushing the ripened grain, pausing now and then to pluck a golden stalk in perfect rhythm with her singing.

    Her hair flowed gently in the breeze, long black strands whipping across her face.  Her lips moved softly with the melody.  Then she paused mid-word, catching sight of him.  He had never seen such beautiful lips.

    His eyes locked with hers.  Were they twinkling or dancing?  He smiled.  She smiled back at him.  His smile widened.  He couldn’t stop himself.  He felt like an idiot.  Then she beamed.  Her face lit up, outshining the sun.  Her beauty made the moon pale by comparison.  He couldn’t think.  He couldn’t breathe.  He was lost in the radiance.

   Time seemed to slow down as she walked towards him.  She poked him in the stomach with her index finger.

    “I’m Beautiful,” she said matter-of-factly.   Never had a name fit more perfectly.  Everything about her whispered it.  Declared it.  Beautiful.

    “Yes, you are!”  Had he really said that out loud?  What a fool.  

    Surprise flickered in her eyes, and she took a small step back.  Her gaze dropped, and she giggled.  A moment later, her smile returned in a flash.

     Say something.  Say anything.  “Do you want to go see the stream together?” he stammered.  “Maybe tomorrow?”  Where had that last part come from?  He really wasn’t thinking straight.

    He’d made up his mind.  Her eyes weren’t just twinkling—they were dancing.

    “What’s wrong with today?” she shot back, already sauntering toward the stairs.  “Try to keep up!”  

  Seeker stood there stunned for a heartbeat.  Then he caught his breath and followed.  She seemed so carefree.  So alive.  And fast—he nearly had to run to keep up.

    At the top of the stairway, she stepped on a slick rock—her foot shooting out from under her.  She flailed for balance, her arms outstretched.  He caught her hand, pulling her upright before she could fall.  She gave him a sheepish grin and started to pull away.  But he didn’t let go.

    Her hand was small in his.  Soft as silk.  She looked down at their joined hands, glanced away, and giggled.  His heart skipped a beat.  She was so cute when she did that.  He started to let go.  Slowly.  But she shifted her grip, threading her fingers through his, holding tightly.

    Hand in hand, they descended the stairs, each step placed with care.  Their hearts beat together, the rhythm pulsing through their joined hands.  Down they went.  Step by step.

    The ravine opened before them.  The stream rushed over cascades, winding away until it vanished into the trees.  Waterfalls plunged from the mountains, crashing into the stream below, mist rising in cool, drifting clouds.  The Stately Palace stood across the water, untouched by time.  

    It was all stunning.  But he saw only her.

    The way down was long.  But not long enough.  He was holding hands with the most beautiful girl—Beautiful. 

    And in that moment, he wished the stairs would never end.

    Seeker and Beautiful sat on the banks of the stream.  The water gleamed in the sun, dancing playfully around smooth stones.  Across the water rose the proud silhouette of the Stately Palace.  He thought back to the story he’d read in his Book.  He could almost see the valiant warrior overcoming insurmountable odds to win the prize he desired.

    The Interpreter had spared no expense to teach a simple truth: you must fight for the things you dearly want.  He thought of the parable he’d read in the study—the merchant who sold everything he owned to buy one perfect pearl.  He had never met anyone quite like her.

    Beautiful had taken off her shoes and was dangling her toes in the water.  She set her handbag down on the rock beside her and pulled out a small linen parcel, bound neatly with twine.  With careful fingers, she opened it, revealing two sandwiches—spiced meat and cheese tucked between slices of Miss Cheerful’s morning bread.

    “Funny,” she muttered, almost under her breath, “I thought, make one for your h—” She stopped abruptly, her face flushing bright red.  She dropped her gaze and laughed softly.  He would never get tired of that.  “Ridiculous,” she exclaimed.  “What a notion!”

    Seeker shared a story Companion had once told him.  Nobody could be quite as funny as Companion.  She laughed—and the sound was more melodious than music.  

   He passed her his canteen.  It had been Companion’s—a parting gift before he left for home.   She pressed it to her lips—those gorgeous lips—took a sip and handed it back.

    “Hold still,” she said, wiping a crumb from the corner of his mouth with her handkerchief.   A tingle lingered on his skin where she touched him.

    He sighed.  This was the best day of his life.  Somewhere nearby, a bird chirped in agreement.

   Seeker and Beautiful talked and laughed for hours by the stream.  The shadows began to lengthen.  Time was slipping away. If only this day would never end.  He knew he would never forget it.

    Beautiful leaned against him.  She told him about the King’s summons, how her journey had begun, and how she had slipped and fallen into the Slough of Despond.  “I can’t forget how disgusting the mud felt,” she said.

   Seeker nodded, lost in her eyes.

   “I came from the Dark Land,” she added, her voice softening.  She spoke about her childhood and how hard times had been.  Sadness crept into her eyes.

    For the first time, he truly saw her.  Beneath all that unapproachable beauty was a sadness she kept hidden.  She’s just like me.

    As she kept speaking, tears began to slip down her cheeks.  He took the handkerchief from her hand and gently wiped them away.

    It didn’t seem possible.  How could someone so beautiful carry such sorrow?  A single tear escaped his eye.

    Without warning, lightning flashed in her eyes.  “Don’t cry!” she snapped.  “Only babies cry.”  Then, just as quickly, the fire vanished.  She blinked surprised by her own outburst.  Her expression softened, and a playful gleam returned.   “I’m going to call you baby from now on.”

    “Hurry up, baby, the sun is setting.”  Beautiful sprang to her feet and dashed toward the stairs.

    Seeker sat there, stunned.  I don’t think that means what she thinks it does.

   It took Seeker and Beautiful twice as long to climb the stairs as it had to descend.  They stopped often, catching their breath, laughing at each other.  Their hands never parted the whole way up.

    At the top of the stairs, she gently slipped her hand from his.  “Not here,” she said softly.  “Someone might see us.”

    He let go, reluctantly.  Who cares if someone sees?

    He slowed his steps, dreading the cottage door.  At last, they reached her room.  She offered him her hand.  He took it, gazing into her eyes.  Those beautiful almond eyes, shining just for him.  He held on to the moment, fixing it in his memory.

    “Can I kiss you?”  The words were out before he could stop them.  Regret hit instantly.  How could he be so awkward?  How could he ruin the perfect day?

    “Not my lips,” she said, lightning flashing in her eyes.  She glanced away, her cheeks flushing pink.  Then she turned and offered him her cheek.

   “I’ll miss you,” he said, trying to extend the moment.

   “No, you won’t.  I’m going to visit you in your dreams.”

   When Seeker woke, the sunlight felt more golden.  The birds’ song was sweeter.  singing of the birds was sweeter.  But most of all the nearby wheat fields carried a fragrance steeped in memory—Beautiful’s memory.

    She kept her promise.   They spent hours together in his dream—wandering meadows, feeding each other apples in the orchard.  But even so, he couldn’t wait to see her again.

    When he entered the common room, she was already there.  She had set a plate next to hers—and was waiting.

    “Good morning, baby,” She glanced at the day-old bread. “It’s not apples, but it’ll have to do.

   He sat beside her and reached for her hand, but she pulled it away with a disapproving glare.

    “Not here, I said!”

They ate together talking and laughing.  As he finished his last bite of bread, she gave a small tilt of her head toward the door.

    “What is it you do in that tower, Seeker?”

    “How do you even know about that?” He blinked.

    “Everyone knows, little baby,” she said with a smirk.   “You go there every single day.”

    She’d seen him before.  Of course.  It hit him.  He’d seen her too, at Stern’s gatherings.  He just hadn’t noticed.  She always slipped in late and left early.  He wondered at himself.  How had he seen her all those months and never noticed?

   “Come and see, baby,” he teased.

    “Don’t call me baby!”

    Seeker and Beautiful walked side by side.  This time she hung back, letting him lead.  They climbed the stairs past crumbling statues and stepped onto the smooth marble floor.

    “Here’s the Dusty Parlor,” he said.

   “It does seem pretty dusty,” Beautiful said with a nod.  “Maybe one of these days you should try the pitcher and broom trick.”  She laughed—a light, delightful sound.

   He pointed toward a doorway, now sealed by fallen rubble.  “There are more rooms on the other side.  The Interpreter showed Christian many things in them.”

    “And Christiana,” she said, her eyes shining.

    “Christiana?”  Seeker blinked.  There was nothing else to show her.  The rubble blocked the way forward.  “I guess this is where the tour ends.”

    Challenge flared in her eyes.  In an instant, she gathered her dress in one hand and scrambled over the wall.

    He stood there, mouth open.  In that moment he knew—he loved her.

    “Are you coming little baby?” she called through the wall.

   “Don’t call me—” He stopped short.  He could hear her glare from the other side of the wall.

    By the time he’d scaled the wall, she was already at the top of the stairs, standing in front of the locked door to the tower.  He hurried after her.  He took out his clasp-knife, slid it between the door and the jamb, and lifted the latch with practiced ease.

   A spark of admiration lit her eyes.  “You are full of surprises!”

   He was halfway up the first flight of stairs when he stopped.  Only his own footsteps echoed in the stairwell.  He looked back—she was still standing in the doorway, hand stretched out to him.

    “I’m waiting,” she said wistfully. 

    He retraced his steps.  She grabbed his hand without hesitation.  Then she sighed.  The stairway was too narrow to hold hands—but she didn’t let go.  Her body pressed close as they climbed, and his heart thundered in his chest.  Surely, she could hear it.

    When they reached the top, her face lit up with delight.   She crossed the room and picked up his Book from the desk.  It fell open to a page marked by a slip of paper—a child’s drawing of a strange bird.  “What’s this?”

    Seeker smiled.  “It’s a puffin.  My kid brother drew it for me.”

    She stood there for a long moment, just looking at it.  Then she looked at Seeker.  Something shifted in her eyes.  He wasn’t sure what it was.

    She ran her delicate finger over the spines of his book and paused at H Καινή Διαθήκη.

    “What is this one?” she asked.

    “That’s the New Testament,” he replied.  “It’s in Greek.”

    “And you can read it,” she stated—it wasn’t a question.

    “Some.”

    “OK, then tell me, little baby, how do you say ‘I love you?’”

    He paused.  He didn’t want to show off.  “A GAP A O,” he said pronouncing each syllable with care.

    A look came into her eyes—one he hadn’t seen before.  It was a strange mix of mischief and satisfaction.

    “Thank you!” she said.

    There was no doubt now.  He loved her.

   When Seeker and Beautiful entered the common room, Miss Cheerful looked up from the hearth.  “Hello, Seeker-for—” she stopped short, spotting Beautiful.  A knowing smile spread across her face.  “Hi, Beautiful!”

    “Stew again,” Beautiful sighed.  But her eyes still shone.

    While they ate, Seeker found himself distracted.  She traced her lips with her finger—more than once.  He’d never seen lips like that.  His eyes wandered.  The glint in hers, the shape of her cheekbones, the faint freckles splashed across her nose and cheeks.

    A thought rose, unbidden.  Maybe she wasn’t the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen.  As if she could read his mind, she beamed—and the room lit up.  No.  She absolutely was.

   “Tell me, Seeker, about your book.  The one you bookmarked with the picture of, what did you call it, a puffin?”

    “It’s about Christian.  He came from the City of Destruction, but he couldn’t stay because his burden was too heavy to bear.  So, he left his—” 

    Beautiful interrupted him.  “No, little baby, I know about Christian.  I want to know about you.  What does the book mean to you?”

   “I read it when I was young—maybe ten years old.  It’s my favorite Book.  I always saw myself as Christian, falling to Apollyon but refusing to stay down.  ‘Do not gloat over me, my enemy!’”   

    Her smile continued to light the room.

    “It gave me courage to leave Uncertain,” he said, voice softening. “But…”

    She leaned forward, her eyes steady.  “Yes?”

    He swallowed. “But nothing has been what I expected.  Companion says times change—but still.  Where is Good-Will?  And look around, Beautiful—what happened here?  And…”

    She nodded and rested her hand on his.

    “Sometimes I wonder,” he said quietly. “Christian walked alone.  He had Faithful, but he was killed in Vanity.  And later, Hopeful.  But his poor wife and children—how could he leave them behind?”  He hesitated.  “I don’t even know their names.”  He fell silent for a long moment.  Then, almost to himself, he said, “I don’t want to be lonely.”

    She took his hand and led him gently to the hearth.  “Wait here, little baby.”  When she returned, she sat beside him, holding a black leather book with silver letters embossed on the cover.

    “Her name was Unkind,” she said.  “His sons were Matthew, Samuel, Joseph and James.”

    Seeker sat up.  “What?  How did you—?”

    She handed him the Book. 

    He opened to the first page:

    COURTEOUS COMPANIONS,

    Some time since, to tell you a dream that I had of Christian the Pilgrim, and his dangerous journey towards the Celestial City, was pleasant to me, and profitable to you.  I told you also what I saw concerning his wife and children, and how unwilling they were to go with him on pilgrimage.

    “Graceless didn’t leave her,” she said.  “She refused to follow.  You know what’s worse?  She kept her sons from going too.”  She paused.  “But that’s not the end.”

    Seeker leaned in, eager for more.

    “That book is about Christiana.  As Graceless became Christian, Unkind became Christiana.  He walked true to the path.  And she followed… eventually.  And her sons.  And their wives, Mercy, Phoebe, and Martha.  And their children.”

    “Can I…” his eyes shone with excitement, “read it?”

   “Yes, baby.  It’s yours.  Not just read—it’s my gift to you.”

   He gazed at her.  For the third time today, he knew.  He loved her dearly.

    That night Beautiful visited Seeker’s dream again.  They talked and laughed together, wandered the pastures, rested beside the streams, and danced beneath the waterfalls.  Hours passed like minutes.  Seeker didn’t want to leave—and she didn’t seem to want to either.

    Seeker sat upright, sunlight flooding his room.  He hurried to the common room, but Beautiful wasn’t there.  He waited.  She didn’t come.  His head dropped, a heavy sigh escaping his lips.  Had he only imagined she cared?  He ate his breakfast in silence, then made his way to the pasture.

    A group of Pilgrims sat gathered around Kind as he finished his teaching.  “Take care, when you think you stand, that you do not fall.”

    Steadfast and Gracious stood in the crowd, so he made his way to them.

   “Have you seen Beautiful this morning?” Gracious asked.

   Could she know?  He shook his head.  “No, I haven’t seen her.”

    He turned to Steadfast and blurted out, “I think Beautiful likes me.”

    “What makes you think that?”

    “We’ve spent hours talking.”

    Steadfast chuckled.  “Then you don’t know her very well.  She loves talking.  Just ask Gracious.”

    His heart sunk.

    Kind came hurrying over toward him.  “Seeker!  Seeker!  Where have you been?  I haven’t seen you in ages.”

    Seeker laughed, in spite of himself.  “Kind, it’s only been two days.”

    Kind shrugged.  “Sometimes, two days can feel like a long time,” he said, eyes twinkling.  “Liora wants you to come celebrate the Prince’s Birthday with us.  It’s a big event for us shepherds—we feast and exchange gifts in His honor.”

   Kind glanced to Seeker’s side.  “You can bring your…”  He paused, choosing his words.  “Friend, too.”

    “Late again, Miss Beautiful,” Kind said in mock exasperation.  “We really have to work on that.  And you too, Seeker.”  He gave them a knowing glance.  “You missed a good one—if I say so myself.”

    He wasn’t listening.  Beautiful stood beside him, breathless.

   She tugged at his sleeve and lowered her voice, “You can’t keep me up all night like that anymore.”  She whispered, careful that Kind wouldn’t misunderstand.  Then with a sweet smile, she added, “You have my days.  That should be enough.”

    Steadfast and Gracious stood next to them.  He leaned in close to Steadfast, chuckling, “You’re right.  I don’t think Beautiful likes me.”

   Not so very quietly that Gracious didn’t overhear.  She laughed softly, eyes twinkling at Beautiful.

  The days passed like a dream.  Seeker and Beautiful were inseparable by day—she sat with him as he studied, and they read her Book together.  Sometimes she couldn’t resist visiting him in his dreams.  But he always made sure she had enough rest to wake refreshed the next morning.

    At last, Christmas Eve arrived.  When they reached Kind’s tent, Liora greeted Seeker with a warm hug.

    “Hello, Miss Beautiful,” Tirzah said, smiling sweetly.  Then she turned her piercing eyes on Seeker.  “It’s about time.”

   They ate a humble meal together by candlelight, then stepped outside.  Around a nearby campfire, the shepherds were already gathering.

    Kind began to speak:

    It came to pass in those days that the ruler of Vanity determined to tax the world.  And Joseph went up to Sincere to be taxed with his betrothed wife, Mary, who was with child.

   Now when they arrived, her time came to give birth, and she brought her firstborn son and laid him in a manger, for there was no room for them in the inn.

    Now there were shepherds in the Delectable Mountains watching their sheep by night.

    And a Shining One appeared to them, and the glory of the King shone around them, and they were sore afraid.  Then the Shining One said, “Don’t be afraid.  I bring you good news of great joy for all people.

   “Today, in Sincere the Prince is born who will save his people.    

   “And this will be the sign to you: you will find the baby, wrapped and lying in a manger.”

    And suddenly with the Shining One was a multitude praising the King and singing.

    “Glory be to the King in the highest heavens, and peace to earth, good will to men.”

   When the Shining One was gone, the shepherds went and found the baby, wrapped and lying in a manger, just as he said.

    Kind paused and gestured toward a bright star shining in the sky, which had appeared while he was speaking.

    When Emmanuel was born in Sincere, Wise Men came from afar, following His star.  The star went before them until it stopped at the place the baby was.  When they entered the house, they found the baby with his mother, Mary, and they fell down and worshipped Him.  They opened their treasures and presented Him with gifts: gold, frankincense, and myrrh.

    The shepherds began trading small gifts.  Seeker gave Beautiful a handbag he had made for her with his own hands.  And Beautiful gave Seeker a music-box—it played his favorite song.

   One by one, the shepherds left quietly.  Kind and Liora bid Seeker and Beautiful good night and invited them to sit by the fire as long as they liked.

   They sat there long after the fire had died, the embers glowing faintly in the dark.  Beautiful fell asleep leaning against him, and Seeker nodded off beside her.

    He woke to find his lips inches from hers.  The fragrance of wheat fields on her intoxicated him.  Her breath, slow and steady, brushed against his face.  He leaned in and kissed her, tenderly.

    He pulled away and gazed at her sleeping face—her hair, her eyes, her lips.  Oh, her lips.  She opened her eyes and smiled—the smile he loved so much.  The sky seemed to light up, dimming even the Christmas star.  She leaned in and kissed him, then slowly pulled away.

   They stared, lost in each other’s gaze.  Then they both leaned in and kissed passionately.