He stared at the glowing blue shape. It seemed to whirl, sending long spirals of light that suddenly enveloped him. Images came and vanished too fast as he tried to study them. Faces, some familiar, some strange. Sounds that weren’t quite audible, mumbled voices.

In the morning sunrise, a child ran across the field. She stopped to scoop up something in the grass, and smiled directly at him, holding it out.

From her hand, red talons of fire leapt up and clawed at a tree. Screams echoed all around.

Fire and tree turned to stone. He stood in the midst of a city, surrounded by a sense of age that pressed in on him like the people who began to appear. They stepped from behind walls and through doors; they peered through open windows. He saw their lips moving, heard sounds, tried to make out words.

Among the voices, he heard someone’s distinct call, “He’s coming, he’s here!” He tried to find the one person who’d spoken, the single person he could understand, but the crowd took up the eager shouts and every word became foreign again as they reached for him.

“I am here.”

The crowd moved past him. They reached for someone else.

He was lifted above the city, above the fire. Stars exploded all around him. He saw the gates open, the Temple door opened to him. He felt himself pulled toward that celestial light, piece by piece. Through the gate, more images, flowing in a stream of light marked with eddies of sky blue and fire red.

One star remained. A woman. She took his hand and pointed behind him.

He looked back, and saw the fire sweep over the city, merging with the rising sun. Behind the fire, in the midst of its ruin, something glowed.

He felt small fingers on his ear. “Do you see, my child? Can you hold the flames that will lead to the Reckoning?”

“I obey the will of the Prophets, Opaka.”

She nodded approvingly. “Then you must carry the word. The time has come for revelation.”

Hatha opened his eyes.