The Far, Bright Center

"She still held to the faith of her father, in that she believed there was a heaven waiting beyond this life, and yet she would not let her belief lead her unthinking into oblivion. I won’t surrender, she thought with a vehemence that startled her. I will walk this path to whatever end may await. I will not fade away into nothingness. I’d rather burn.

No, if the God of her father still ruled this world, then surely His reign was not in scripture scrawled threateningly across a wall, nor in the mind of a single, demented leader. Nor was it in the depths of that dark water, but rather in the light that filtered through the trees at dawn, in the flight of the pale doves in the morning, in the graceful, folding wings of a pair of mated swans, in the footsteps of a great stag upon the frosted earth, in the distant stars at night, the flames of the evening sky.

And in those few, small fires that yet flickered within the hearts of men."




 

— Between the Fire and the Sky