09-28-2016, 11:00 AM
Jensen shook hands. He vaguely recognized the man that greeted them as someone high up in CCD government. But as Jensen paid little attention over the years, he couldn't recall the man's name. He had to be important though, as all the agents seemed to defer to him. "Jensen is fine, sir."
The pat down was not a completely foreign experience, but he licked his lips anyway in anticipation.
When they were led inside, Jensen's gaze was immediately pulled to the man in the bed. He had been in ICU's before. When a member of the church was in a car wreck or had a stroke. But seeing a man on life support was always unsettling. How fragile the human body was. Life was a gift from God. One that could be lost at any moment.
He was pulled almost against his will to the bedside, gaze honed, brow furrowed, and lips tightly drawn. The Ascendancy was a handsome man. His image was everywhere in Moscow. The world, really. Dark hair, bright blue eyes that always glittered like he had a secret none were privy to. Even with the scorch of burn marks, bandages and tubes he was obviously still appeared a young man. Jensen's age or so.
He let his hand fall across the Ascendancy's, squeezing it, but found only slack fingers. How could such a man be the Antichrist? He was dedicated to peace and prosperity. His policies shook the foundations of the globe, certainly, but to see the world end? To proclaim himself God? The monument was worshipped, but that was not Nikolai's demand. He didn't demand the citizens of the Custody fall to their knees before him, but in his presence, even seemingly lifeless, Jensen felt the urge to kneel, to lower himself so that the Ascendancy was the greater. For indeed he was.
Jensen swallowed. "He's badly hurt. I have not healed anyone so bad before."
Still holding his hand, he pointed to a chair for someone to push closer so that he could sit. "I will try, though. Let's pray,"
he said and bowed his head, curling his fingers tight through the Ascendancy's.
This man is still a man. No matter his transgressions. No matter the good or evil he has wrought. No matter his destiny. He is capable of redemption just as I am as well. Whether he is to be used by a greater will or not, I leave the Gift at your discretion. Heal him if it be the greater will. I am but a conduit. A servant of all.
Eyes still closed, he reached into the fires of the Gift, laid his other hand on Ascendancy's burnt chest, and worked the flows.
The pat down was not a completely foreign experience, but he licked his lips anyway in anticipation.
When they were led inside, Jensen's gaze was immediately pulled to the man in the bed. He had been in ICU's before. When a member of the church was in a car wreck or had a stroke. But seeing a man on life support was always unsettling. How fragile the human body was. Life was a gift from God. One that could be lost at any moment.
He was pulled almost against his will to the bedside, gaze honed, brow furrowed, and lips tightly drawn. The Ascendancy was a handsome man. His image was everywhere in Moscow. The world, really. Dark hair, bright blue eyes that always glittered like he had a secret none were privy to. Even with the scorch of burn marks, bandages and tubes he was obviously still appeared a young man. Jensen's age or so.
He let his hand fall across the Ascendancy's, squeezing it, but found only slack fingers. How could such a man be the Antichrist? He was dedicated to peace and prosperity. His policies shook the foundations of the globe, certainly, but to see the world end? To proclaim himself God? The monument was worshipped, but that was not Nikolai's demand. He didn't demand the citizens of the Custody fall to their knees before him, but in his presence, even seemingly lifeless, Jensen felt the urge to kneel, to lower himself so that the Ascendancy was the greater. For indeed he was.
Jensen swallowed. "He's badly hurt. I have not healed anyone so bad before."
Still holding his hand, he pointed to a chair for someone to push closer so that he could sit. "I will try, though. Let's pray,"
he said and bowed his head, curling his fingers tight through the Ascendancy's.
This man is still a man. No matter his transgressions. No matter the good or evil he has wrought. No matter his destiny. He is capable of redemption just as I am as well. Whether he is to be used by a greater will or not, I leave the Gift at your discretion. Heal him if it be the greater will. I am but a conduit. A servant of all.
Eyes still closed, he reached into the fires of the Gift, laid his other hand on Ascendancy's burnt chest, and worked the flows.