The Elements of Zion: the Vine, the Branch, and the Thorn

Old Guardian of Zion

Without any hesitation, I slid down its back and landed firmly on the ground. The earth quaked beneath me as the creature slowly stood up, its massive form casting a shadow over the land. What I saw before me was truly remarkable: a being that towered over the tree line, with the proud face of an eagle and large, piercing fiery eyes that seemed almost human. Its muscular body was adorned with a magnificent golden robe, and a matching hood covered its regal head. Then, with an almost poetic grace, the creature spread out its enormous wings, producing a gust of wind so powerful that it bent the trees behind it.

The contrast between its beauty and power was mesmerizing and unsettling at once, and I couldn't help but feel a shiver of awe and fear travel down my spine.

Taking in its surroundings, the eagle-faced being turned its attention to the menacing, thorny beast in the distance, a creature from nightmares made manifest. It screeched in a voice that held both deep wisdom and simmering anger, "Oi should've crushed ye from the start!"

The beast responded with a guttural growl that echoed throughout the forest,"Your counsel grows weak, Trose..."

Undeterred, the eagle locked eyes with the creature. "ye know better than to meddle in the affairs of this realm. Let yer influence rest where the living reside."

"Those laws prove useless now. The marked ones' entry into the hidden realm signals war and the end of all things." Said the beast.

Mystically appearing to grow from its mighty wing, a colossal, gleaming blade materialized. "Not everythin'... Just ye an' yer kind."

With the swiftness of lightning, Trose charged forward; blade at the ready, the tension of the battle building with each beat of its wings. The forest stilled, as if holding its breath, all senses focused upon the clash. With one powerful thrust, Trose plunged its sword deep into the beast's throat, then, with immense force, ripped the blade upward, splitting the skull.

Gasping in pain, the thorny beast collapsed to its knees, desperately trying to twist its briar-like arms around the sword's edge - a futile attempt to stave off its fate. As I watched with bated breath, the split skull began to mutate, each half morphing into a face grimmer than the last. They glared upward at Trose, and amidst the horror, started to laugh in a way that could only be described as hellish.

"My fate does not end here, old guardian of Zion," the beast hissed, its voice blending into a cacophony of dread. "We both know that."

As the beast's side writhed and twisted, another arm erupted forth, grasping desperately for the scythe lying on the ground nearby. Anticipation hung heavy in the air. Time seemed to slow as the monstrous limb reached its target. Yet just as the weapon rested in its grasp, a massive talon, both swift and merciless, crushed the newly formed appendage into the earth.

A mad, tortured scream tore through the air from the beast's gaping maw as the grip around Troses sword faltered. With calculated grace, the massive blade slid back into his wing, as if it had never existed. Transforming from a picture of savage fury to one of austere composure, Trose folded his wings, shrouding the front of its body in an almost relaxed manner.

"Ye'll ne'er be strong enough, Briah," said Trose.

"It is as you say, yet, many branches I will strangle before the end." As the beast spoke, its formidable mass of briars began to shrink, each twisted tendril burrowing back into the earth from whence it came. And then, with a suddenness that left a void in the chaos, the beast vanished into the ground just as quickly as it had appeared.

Trose then spread his wings, catching the air like a gust of wind, and in an instant stood towering above me. Heart pounding in my chest, I could do little more than tremble in its presence, falling to my knees. Closing my eyes, I stammered, "Please... I don't..."

"Ah, don't ye worry a wee bit, Issac, me lad." the gentle voice reassured me.

I cautiously opened my eyes, gasping at the sight before me. Feathers drifted down from above, catching the first rays of morning sun that pierced through the forest canopy. The sky above me turned into a swirling spectacle of white and golden hues, reminiscent of dreams and miracles. The once raging crevasse that had scorched the earth had vanished, and my wounds – both on my hands and throat – had disappeared as though they never were.

As the warmth of the new day kissed my face, I sensed a comforting presence beside me. Turning my head, I found the winged creature now at eye level, the same size as me. His fiery eyes shone like small galaxies, swirling with the untold secrets of the cosmos. Scars crisscrossed his large, protruding beak, evidence of battles fought and won. His golden robe, a testament to his majesty, was adorned with a lush tapestry depicting a garden overflowing with fruit-bearing trees.

"Ah sure, 'tis I, Trose, The Guardian of Zion sent by the powers in the upper realm to be bringin' ya some mighty good news, so I am."

"Good news..?" I said.

Trose stood tall, his expression solemn but resolute. "The Vine has chosen ya to be His emissary, lad. Yer to learn how to face the evils of this realm like yer forefathers before ye. The fate o' yer livin' world now hangs in the balance."

His words were spoken confidently, unwavering even as he locked eyes with me. But I didn't have a clue - only a whirlwind of questions rising within me, begging for answers.

"Who is The Vine, and why has he chosen me for this?"

Trose's eyes held the essence of ancient, unspoken knowledge. "He's the complete embodiment of all existence, so He is. He has chosen you, Issac, for you're a warrior like none other. The promise made to your fathers who walked this earth before you must be upheld - both Adam and his son Paul."

"Dad? Grandpa?" I choked out,"I don't understand why this is happening. What do they have to do with all of this? This all can't be real..."

"Tis as real as those battles you've fought in the land of the livin'. As real as the day you held your wee lass for the first time,"said Trose.

As I absorbed his words, Trose gazed into the sun as it rose above the tree tops, casting a golden glow on his face. "The Vine always keeps a promise, no matter the cost."

"What was the promise made to them?"

Trose glanced back at me, his stare steadfast. "To deliver ye from evil and grant ye the eyes to see it."