Two Choices

Once again, I must apologize if this is a bit rough.  I'm writing it at about 10:00 PM after a LOOONG day at work preceded by multiple other LOOONG days at work.  But, that's what I get for working in the behavioral health care field with teenagers some times.  In all honesty I love my kids I work with, it just gets rather overwhelming at times.

Anyways, I did combine Trifecta's prompt, the word path as in course, route or way of life, and part of Write at the Merge's prompt, a stained glass window to bring you this.  I did just, unfortunately, realize I didn't get this done in time to link up to Trifecta's challenge, but that's okay. 

It is the next part of the story of Emma, James and Kris.  If you've missed some of the story, the tab labeled One Night In Dusseldorf at the top will give you the links to the rest of the story.  Here it is.  Please enjoy.

I still couldn’t wrap my mind around what Kris was saying.  It sounded so unbelievably ridiculous, but he was serious.  I could almost hear the air between us crackling with the tension of the moment.  He wanted me, needed me, to believe him.  I just stood there like an idiot unsure of myself.

“Follow me,” he snapped, loping off into the woods.

I trailed behind him, still trying to digest his words.  I rounded a bend in the path and stopped.  The path descended into a small hollow.  In the center was a small rough stone chapel like building.  The windows were stained glass that threw brilliant rainbows around the clearing.  It looked like a sea of color had rained down and filled the depression.

Kris gestured and I stepped up to the building.  It was older than I’d first thought.  Being the daughter of a historian specializing in architecture came in handy right then.  I estimated the tiny structure to be at least five to six centuries old, maybe older.

“My great-great grandfather built this chapel.  He wanted to remind my people of the choice we made back then.  My people were dying, hunted and feared by missionaries to this land who didn’t understand us.  A druid came to my great-great grandfather and offered him a choice.  One path led to a life where we survived but had to adapt to a new world.  The other one ended with my people being hunted down like rabid dogs.”

As he told me this story, we circled the chapel.  Each window depicted in surprising color and detail different scenes from the story.  We stopped in front of the south end.  The window covered most of the wall.  And indicated the choice that was made.

“We agreed to become the guardians of the druids.  That druid changed us to make us better protectors.”

Then it happened.  The air around Kris shimmered.  He disappeared.  In his place was a black wolf watching me with Kris’s eyes.

Also, please head on over to Trifecta and Write at the Merge's websites to read other great authors and their inspirations from the prompts.