Hidden Fragments Chapter 42

Rock, Salt and Scripture

Previously on Hidden Fragments…

In the lonely lighthouse above the Great Sea, Calen uncovered a hidden clue tied to the lost Scroll of Genesis. Through Magdalena’s song he realized the Scroll may be hidden on a mysterious island called Lumenreach, a place revealed only after storms, when the lighthouse fire reflects across the sea like glass.

Meanwhile, Marisa found a brief moment of peace at her grandfather’s farm, though danger still lingered close behind. As she prepared to continue Calen’s mission and deliver the Scroll of Jude, the morning calm was shattered when Tobin’s dog, Pax, came racing from the forest alone and barking wildly, with Tobin nowhere to be seen.

Chapter 42

Rock, Salt and Scripture

A silent joy filled their hearts as Calen and Magdalena stared at each other in silence. Both of them realized, something profound had just happened. They didn’t want to speak. It would disrupt the sense of awe and holiness that had come over the room. Finally, Calen nodded and said, “That’s it, Magdalena. I need to get a boat and go to… eh… what did you call it… Lumenlight?”

She grinned. “Lumenreach. But where will you go? It’s just out there somewhere, but I’ve never seen it.”

Calen rose from his desk and walked to the window. The wind tugged at the shutters, and dark clouds rolled in from the sea.

“We need to wait for a storm,” he said quietly. “And it looks like we may be in for one.”

Magdalena joined him at the small window. “You’re right,” she said. “A storm is coming, but it may last a while.”

Calen glanced at her. “I still need to finish copying the two Scrolls I have here. I need some time for that.”

She studied him. “And you are sure about this?”

“It’s all by faith, Magdalena,” he said and he cast her a confident grin. “But I believe God showed me this.”

She shook her head. “And all that from that song? My husband wasn’t even melodious.”

“You made it sound wonderful,” Calen said. “A true hymn it is. Truly, I don’t fully understand it myself. But God… He knows what is hidden. He knows what lies hidden in the darkness, and in His time, He brings it into the light.”

Magdalena hesitated. “I don’t understand everything in the song. For example, what about that line… ‘The First and Last, the End in sight’… what does it mean?”

“I don’t know,” Calen admitted. “I only know what God showed me. The Scroll of Genesis speaks of the beginning… but what your husband meant by the end; I have no idea.” A fresh wave of excitement welled up. He looked up and said, “I just have to get out there.”

Magdalena nodded slowly. “Then we shall pray the storm that is coming will be fierce so all the conditions will be right.” Her face carried a faint smile. “I’ve never prayed for storms in that way before… but there’s a first time for everything.”

She gently placed a hand on his arm. “I’ll tend to the fire before the storm breaks loose. In the meantime, you copy more of the scrolls. I’ll come back later.”

“Thank you,” Calen said.

He returned to his desk and looked at the Scroll of Leviticus.

More priests. More sacrifices.

He sighed and chided himself for not being more enthusiastic. After all, Leviticus was no less important than the other ones.

As he pulled out his chair, a flash of lightning lit the sky. Far away he heard the faint sound of thunder. Yes, a storm was definitely brewing.

***

Calen was halfway through the Scroll of Isaiah when the storm broke loose in full force.

The oil lamp above his desk that Magdalena had given him swung wildly in the draft, throwing restless shadows across the parchment. Working on copying the Scroll had become impossible. He blew on his Scroll one more time to make sure it was dry enough and then safely rolled it up. He would have to finish it later.

He felt the urge to step outside and let the wind tear at his hair and clothes. To stand in the storm and feel the rain lash against his face, as if daring the darkness itself.

I am not afraid of you.

I’ve got the God of the Scrolls on my side. Soon, your kingdom will be no more.

It would have been an exciting challenge, but Magdalena had warned him to stay inside. She knew better than he did.

Still, he rose and paced the small room; restless, occasionally peering through the cracks in the shutters.

Nothing.

Only wind, rain and foam.

He could hardly wait for the storm to pass. Would he see Lumenreach? Had the vision truly come from God? Would he soon hold the Scroll of Genesis in his hands?

A surge of something close to joy rose within him, as the weight of it all settled in.

Before long, the words of God would be within reach of all. Old men and women. Politicians, bakers, warriors. Even children. The Word would spread to the farthest corners of the land.

And nothing would ever be the same again.

The rain lashed against the shutters. They were meant to keep the weather out, but were hopelessly unable to do so. Small puddles of water already formed on the stony floor right near him.

The entire lighthouse shook under the force of the wind and seemed to be groaning in protest. If Magdalena had not told him that the shaking and shuddering was normal, he would have been alarmed.

She had climbed a little earlier to check on him and on the fire. She also brought him a plate of Storm roast; heavily spiced goat meat. He did not care for the sharp seasoning but his stomach did, and he ate it all without complaint. She left again soon and assured him he would be safe and she’d be back as soon as the storm was over.

No, there was nothing to do but wait.

When the storm passed, the wind would calm, the sea would smooth like glass and then, if Magdalena was right, the fire would show the way and he would see Lumenreach.

But the storm showed no sign of relenting.

It raged on for hours and at last Calen yawned, his eyelids growing heavy. His gaze drifted to the straw Magdalena had laid out for him near the door.

Should he rest, if only for a moment?

The makeshift bed seemed to call out to him.

Come, Calen… rest. You need strength for what lies ahead.

Why not?

Truth be told, he was exhausted. To close his eyes, even briefly, felt almost like heaven.

He crossed the room, eased himself down on the straw, and within moments, the world slipped away into darkness.

---

Grandfather felt his throat tighten, as though someone had seized him by the neck. This was his fault. He had allowed Tobin to go into the forest alone, with Pax. How could he have been so foolish?

He saw the horrified expression on Isola’s face.

Marisa appeared calmer, but it was plain she too was worried as Pax circled around them, growling and repeatedly darting toward the forest.

The meaning could not have been clearer.

Pax wanted them to follow.

The dog had come to fetch them. Something terrible had happened to Tobin.

Now the other soldier came running as well, the one Marisa believed should remain with Grandfather at the farm; Vorren was his name. True, he seemed somewhat better than Bram… but he still was a soldier from the hated Council of Twelve. Didn’t even know God.

“What happened?” Vorren shouted from afar.

“Tobin is missing!” Marisa shouted back as the soldier came hurrying toward them, breathing heavily, the axe still clutched in his hand.

“Follow the dog,” he said at once. “That animal’s trying to tell you something. I used to keep dogs myself. Best friends I ever had.”

Marisa nodded quickly. “Where’s Ronan? He can help.”

A dull pain began to pulse behind Grandfather’s eyes. Ronan had left early that morning.

“He’s gone,” Grandfather stated in flat tones.

“Gone where?” Marisa asked, staring at him with wide, uncertain eyes.

Seeing fear in Marisa unsettled him even more. She truly seemed shaken.

He cleared his throat. “He wanted to scout the surroundings. Said he wanted to make sure all was truly safe.”

“So, he’s gone?” Marisa asked.

Grandfather nodded. “That’s what I said.”

He had left on horseback, leaving Grandfather standing in the drifting dust. It had been at that exact moment that Tobin had asked whether he might take Pax into the forest.

“It doesn’t matter,” Vorren interrupted as he put on his tunic, without caring about his sweat-soaked upper body. “If something happened to Tobin, we don’t have time to waste. Come on, Pax… show us the way.”

Pax barked loudly and dashed off toward the forest again. The dog seemed eager for them to follow.

Vorren sprinted after the dog.

Far too fast.

At least, too fast for Grandfather. His stiff, arthritis-ridden legs could not move so quickly. His condition was not what it once had been. His heart began to pound, and his headache increased with every step. “I-I… can’t… run so fast,” he muttered.

As he stopped, heaving and trying to catch his breath, he noticed Isola wasn’t doing all that much better. Thankfully, Marisa understood.

She slowed and walked back toward him. “Easy, you two,” she said softly. “We’ll follow at our own pace.”

By now Pax and Vorren had disappeared into the forest, though Pax’s loud barking still echoed across the fields. If the dog kept making such a racket, following them would not be difficult.

“Do you think Tobin is all right?” Isola asked in a trembling voice. She had gone pale. Grandfather turned his head away. Oh, what a fool he had been to let Tobin wander into the forest alone.

“I’m so sorry, Isola,” he said as they walked. “I had no idea. It seemed so harmless for Tobin to explore the forest. Nothing ever happens here until…”

“…until something does happen,” Isola snapped.

Grandfather felt the sting of her words, but she was right. He should have simply told Tobin to clear it all with his mother.

Thankfully, Marisa broke through the tension.

“It will be all right,” she said brightly, her calmness returning at last. “God is still our Shepherd.”

They were now at the edge of the forest.

The morning sun shone upon the first tall pines, carrying with it a delicious, refreshing scent. Grandfather drew in a deep breath. He loved that smell. Under normal circumstances he would have paused for a moment to enjoy it.

But not today.

Today the towering trees no longer seemed messengers of peace and beauty. They loomed above him like grim soldiers of the Council of Twelve, as though blaming him for what had happened to Tobin.

They could still hear Pax barking.

Far away… A mile? Two miles? It was impossible to tell.

Perhaps they could stop for just a moment to catch their breath. Grandfather felt he could not keep this up much longer. The strain and excitement were becoming almost too much for him. When he glanced at Isola he saw, Tobin’s mother was in no better condition. She was gasping for breath, a strange wheezing sound coming from her throat.

But Marisa showed no sign of stopping and pressed onward with determined steps. She pushed branches aside, stepped over rabbit holes hidden in the moss, and climbed the soft grassy rises as she followed the sound ahead. Grandfather knew she was right. Of course she was. They could not stop now. There was not a minute to lose.

So, he forced his old, stiff legs onward. First one leg, then the other. Simple enough.

Suddenly Marisa stopped.

She listened intently while scanning the surrounding forest.

At once Grandfather understood why.

Pax was no longer barking.

They were deep into the forest by now. Sweat stung Grandfather’s eyes and blurred the world around him. Not that it mattered much. Everything looked the same here. Tall pine trees, blueberry bushes, ferns and the earthy scent of moss and grass drifting through the forest.

Somewhere deeper in the forest a cuckoo called, while nearby a woodpecker hammered against a tree trunk.

What now?

Grandfather looked at Marisa helplessly. He was simply too exhausted to think clearly anymore.

But Marisa still looked calm and certain.

“Pax stopped barking because Vorren found Tobin,” she said firmly. “We’re close now.”

“But where?” Isola asked fearfully.

Marisa did not answer. Instead, she drew a deep breath and shouted as loudly as she could, “Vorren! Where are you?”

Grandfather and Isola began shouting as well, and not long afterward they heard rustling in the undergrowth. Less than a minute later Pax burst through the bushes, his tongue nearly dragging across the ground with excitement.

“Pax!” Isola cried, her voice hoarse with fear. “Thank God.”

The dog immediately turned around again.

Marisa shook her head. “That dog is a gift from God,” she muttered.

At once they hurried onward again.

Marisa pushed troublesome branches aside while Isola followed close behind her. Grandfather stumbled after them. Perhaps he should have stayed behind at the farm.

Still, he pressed on, forcing himself forward until they reached a clearing in the forest.

There was Vorren, kneeling in the grass beside a thick bush. Pax circled around him anxiously but looked up, the moment Isola approached. He bounded toward her as though trying to tell her what had happened.

As Grandfather drew nearer his heart skipped a beat, and a gasp escaped his lips.

There, half hidden behind the bush, was a dark, gaping hole.

Tobin had fallen in, and at first glance it looked cold, deep and terribly dangerous.

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