Flashes Of Light

Past - Jonath

The monks kept asking Logar to show them how his powers worked.

I was starting to believe he didn't have any.

This young man, charming and handsome, with weird clothes and the defensive behaviour of someone who's just crawled out of a gutter, they wanted to make him the Messiah. 

They were going to eat him alive.

It was Christmas Eve. I'd spent the day wondering if the Power of Sight celebrated Christmas, and asked the Supreme. He told me that it was a Christian holiday, and our religion was the Vision. He told me if Logar Iris developed his powers on Christmas, then, yes, we would celebrate it.

I didn't have anything else to do, so I watched the Supreme and his men trying to get the Visionary to use his powers.

"Take off your robe," the Supreme told Logar. I diverted my eyes. He was naked underneath.

Logar was shivering, but he held his head up high and showed no sign of weakness. The Supreme took a whip, and I heard a cracking sound.

Before I had the chance to fully realize it, Logar Iris had been whipped, in front of me.

On Christmas. 

I couldn't let it happen.

I walked down the aisle, suddenly unashamed and uncaring that there was a naked man in front of me. Standing up for him was more important, and I was sure he would have agreed.

"Stop right there, anonymous recruit," the Supreme told me. "His powers need to manifest before it's too late. This is the right way to bring them out."

"Oh, why don't we ask The Anti?" Logar opened his arms, in frustration. He was totally shameless in regard of his naked body. "Let's ask him if he's been whipped, or hurt, or if some naughty monk stripped him to his underwear. I know I look like a little kid, but I'm not. I hope you're thouroughly disappointed with what you've just seen."

"Well," the Supreme avoided any implication. "I can't say the sight brings me any pleasure."

I made a choking sound. There was an awkward agreement between Logar and I -- he knew what it was, but he let me keep up pretenses.

"Please understand, recruit, that this is nothing personal. It's just because of the protocol we were given by the Prophet Michaim. The Visionary needs to manifest his powers, and fear and submission was one of the things that, according to the protocol, would bring out the best in him."

"His powers," I snarled. "Are not what's best in him!" 

I took a swing, and punched the Supreme right on the nose. It was a terrible blow, with blood spraying all around. I knew I would have been sent back home to my mother for that. A mother whom I hadn't seen in years. I didn't even know if she was still alive.

"Anonymous recruit, you are really walking a thin line..." the Supreme started saying, a hand cupped on his nose.

"His name," Logar snarled. "Is Jonath Cincinnati!"

He was about to punch the Supreme too, but the man took his fist in his hand and started gripping tight, as if to break his fingers. Logar was shaking, and looking almost like he was about to have a seizure.

"His powers," one of the monks said. "They're manifesting! Grip tighter!"

Logar's powers didn't look like they were about to manifest, to me. But he was naked, shivering and his fingers were about to be broken, so he played pretend he was having a full seizure.

"I... I see what's the next step!" he said, his eyes glassy and with a far-away expression. "Sveta. Of course. She's the Grenade, the heart of the team. Today is Christmas, an important holiday. We need to ask Sveta what we should do, as a team for Christmas!"