The morning sky gradually gave light over Erudition, and villagers began moving about in their daily routines. Raham walked in from the orchard, accompanied by Selah and Zetetic. “Will you be with us long?” Raham asked Zetetic. “Surely, you are weary from the missionary work. Allow yourself time with your friends here.” Zetetic lit with […]

Morning light fell on Crossroads Clearing, and Barak found himself sitting, staring, and deep in thought. His bundle of blades and crafting tools appeared heavy in his gaze, yet he had not touched them. Their weight increased as his indecisiveness kept him from moving. He pushed to get up and start the day, yet thoughts

The Toolmakers returned home to the Volcanic Highlands, leaving behind Barak, their skilled worker. He persuaded them it was a good idea because he could maintain their existing trade and they could return in a few months with a better supply. Barak took possession of the few remaining tools and supplies, including the raw obsidian

Selah, a citizen of Erudition, had a reputation for her steady kindness and encouragement. Her lamp always seemed to burn bright, even when others’ lights flickered low. Struggling villagers often came to her for uplifting or when their love for their neighbors had grown thin. Selah would listen, offer a kind word, giving them fresh

Naqam turned from the still waters, considering what was next. The comfort of reconciliation with Joram was fading, leaving a sense of shame and embarrassment. Naqam, not used to being so wrong, thought back, “The things I said about Joram…I nearly ruined his reputation.” Naqam gripped the blanket tightly. “Now I’m the foolish one, and

Joram was a well-established merchant in Erudition. His stall, facing the great olive tree, offered much. The finely woven blankets, robes, and carpets were seldom unnoticed by those with an eye for finer crafts. Honest weights and careful work made him known, bringing in steady business. Joram took quiet pride in his work. Every morning,

In the village of Erudition, nestled among the hills where the spring never failed, Constant had become the most admired man. Through simple farm life, he saw new ways and outlooks to share. He taught that true strength began within. “One cannot give what one has not first stored within,” he would say as villagers

In the village of Erudition, a fair-sized established community, Amon and Chakam planned their new dwellings. The two brothers weighed options, each remembering their last day with their father. He evenly divided the land as he lay passing from old age, and both brothers sought to honor him and his teachings throughout their youth. He

Prosaic looked out across his glistening orchard during the cool of the evening. Hoe in hand, he leaned on it gazing at his proud work; labor through sweat and exhaustion; his reward. Prosaic tended the orchard from his youth, being taught the lessons of hard work reaps abundance and slack results in want. His father

When I was eight years old, I remember sitting next to my dad in a church pew. I thought about how arrogant some members were. The Preacher asked, “Who knows they are going to Heaven?” Many responded quickly, with a raised hand of intent, proclaiming, “Me!” I turned to my Dad with a look of