A Taste of Catholic Fiction Part 8

A preview from the book The Arrow Bringer

Chapter 3, part 2: The Wrong Choice

Indescribable happiness fills me at the sound of his voice. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt, except when I wanted to enter the temple. For reasons I don’t understand, I’m immediately drawn to him.

When the illumination fades, there is a golden-haired man with olive skin and a faint beard. A quiver of golden arrows is slung on his back. He is clothed in a red tunic that tucks into a wide, tan leather belt, white trousers, and brown sandals.

What captivates me most, though, are his eyes. They’re honey-brown but shine a myriad of colors, as if reflecting a sunset. The moment I meet his gaze, I know this isn’t a dream.

“This is a vision or something, isn’t it? Who are you? Did you bring me here?”

“I am the Arrow Bringer. You are standing in the palace city of Giuda, in the country of Aletheia.” He motions for me to come forward. “Behold, my arrow, which has protected Aletheia since its creation four thousand years ago. This arrow must never be touched, unless by my instruction, or terrible consequences will befall Aletheia.”

“Um… what does it have to do with me?”

“You have beheld this arrow every night since you were a child. And every night for the last year, you have wished to journey to Aletheia when you weren’t dreaming.”

“But you’ve never been here before,” I prompt, remembering these thoughts.

He shakes his head. “I have been here every time.”

“Then… why couldn’t I see you until now?”

“I have attempted to speak to you before. But you did not wish to hear me until tonight, nor even remember this dream. While your heart has always been open to me, this is the first time you have willed to be ready for your life to change.”

His words stun me as I consider my thoughts outside the temple doors. “Change…” I’m hardly able to fathom his words. “Change, how?”

He motions toward the gate, and my jaw drops at the lavishly dressed woman who appears. It’s as if I’m seeing through a window of time and witnessing my future reflection.

I take in the dark hair beneath her tiara, her doe brown eyes, and tawny brown skin. “Who is she?” But I have the feeling I already know.

“Her name is Katalin. She is your birth mother.”

(This book is available on 3-19-19 for .99 on Kindle)