Flashes Of Light

Past - Jonath

I was upset by the way the Supreme had treated the Visionary.

I knew that the religion was fairly new, but when I joined the monks already believed in it, so I never heard them say anything different.

They always told me we would have to wait for the Visionary, the Messiah who would bring peace to the Earth.

I didn't remember what had happened in my life until a week before, when they found me at the doors of the Monastery, but I'd been told I'd been to other places like that, where I'd learnt to read. However, they said it was strange that I didn't know about Jesus Christ, and told me about him. I could see similiarities with Logar.

But when the Visionary arrived, the monks started throwing stuff at him, demeaning him and asking him things he didn't want to do, like stripping naked in front of everyone.

I couldn't have it, so I gave him my robe.

And when the Visionary arrived, he was a boy my age, small and nothing special, with hair half dyed yellow, so that left me very confused.

The first night, I couldn't sleep, and I wondered, 'this is not what a Visionary should look like'.

As much as I wanted to, I couldn't think of Logar Iris as the Messiah, but he seemed like someone who would be a very good friend. I liked the way he defied the Supreme's authority. The more I thought about it, I liked his yellow hair too, and the fact that he flipped the bird at a whole room of monks who apparently believed in him.

The day after, when the monks asked him to make a show of his powers, and he failed, I knew he was very upset. I was sad to see him upset like that.

I followed him when he retreated to his room, and I waited a little before I knocked on the door.

"Yes...?" was the reply, spoken in his usual drawl. I had to count to ten before I found the courage to open the door. I was secretely afraid he'd taken off my robe, and that he would be naked.

I had briefly seen him naked before, when the monks had taken away his clothes, and I was trying to forget everything I'd seen.

"Jonath here," I said. "I want to talk."

Logar opened the door. He wasn't wearing shoes, so I noticed for the first time how small he was, compared to me. He was, thankfully, still wearing my robe.

"I need a new shirt," I added sheepishly.

Logar looked at the robe. It looked like a dress on him. "You call this a shirt?"

He sounded very annoyed, as if he was angry that I was taller than him or something. I don't know. I've always thought you can't really be angry at something like DNA.

"I like your dyed hair," I said, since he wasn't saying anything. "Mine is bleached."

"Wait, what?"

"Yes," I started feeling less anxious. I liked to talk about my hair. "The monks have a storage where they keep all things of kinds. I take the peroxide, or really any other of chemical mixture I can find, and use it once a month to bleach my hair. It's not natural."

"But... what is your natural colour?"

"A dark brown," I replied. "Sometimes, in the light, it's more honey or caramel. I can't explain. Look at the eyebrows, they give it away."

"In case you hadn't noticed, you peroxide blond giraffe," Logar said unkindly. "I can't really look at your face unless I bring a stool."

But I noticed that he was trying to look at my eyes, and that he looked a little unnerved.