The Chronicles of Gan: The Thorn by Daron Fraley

serves
all of Noah’s children in God’s temples. What do you know of
temples, Pekah?”
    Pekah’s brow lifted with interest, but
quickly furrowed. “I know only of the sacrifices.”
    Jonathan paused, his forming thoughts
interrupted by the sound of the bubbling stream nearby. He felt a
strong desire to teach Pekah more about the purpose of temples, but
the chatter-like sputters of the water reminded him of their
current location in the woods. He thought it might be best to
discuss a plan for the day while they were still at leisure to do
so.
    “Pekah, do you mind if we talk of temples
later?” Jonathan asked. “Right now, I would like opinions about our
travel plans. For one thing, I have never been this far down the
trail toward Ain. Father and I always traveled through Saron. I
don’t know exactly how long it will take us to reach Ain, and I’m
reconsidering my desire to stay here for the day, even if it is the
Sabbath.” He smiled and watched both Pekah and Eli, waiting for
their response.
    Eli took a deep breath and
let it out loudly. He kicked a twig toward the fire. “For some
reason, while we have been talking, I too have been getting the
itch to move on. I realize it is the Sabbath, however . . .”
    Jonathan shook his head,
and prodded him to finish with a drawn out “ Yes . . . ?”
    “Well,” Eli stammered, “I just get the
feeling we’re supposed to leave. It’s almost as if we’ll be late
for something important if we don’t leave soon.”
    Jonathan stood up slowly, as if rising from
a relaxing afternoon nap. A slight breeze picked up, and he turned
toward it and smelled the air. Earlier, he had been quite content
to stay where they were, but now that Eli pointed it out, he too
felt as if something had changed.
    “You know, Eli, I think you are right.
Pekah?”
    Pekah shrugged his shoulders. “I suppose
that would be fine.”
    All in agreement, they packed their
belongings. Jonathan used a chunk of wood to push dirt over the
cooled ashes of their night fire. It let off very little smoke, as
most of the coals had gone gray and cold already. Eli toppled the
logs previously used for seats into the surrounding undergrowth,
and Pekah used a cut branch to mask whatever footprints he could
find.
    One last inspection proved their work to be
satisfactory, so Jonathan waved them on. The three men left the
hidden alcove of tangled brush behind them to follow the worn
forest path which meandered under the more open parts of the
canopy. Littering the trail were the occasional broken remnants of
wind-stripped branches and fallen leaves, peppered by acorns from
stately oak trees and cones from the pines scattered among them.
Now much drier than the previous evening, the path showed little
evidence of their footsteps as they hiked together westward.
Although the light through the trees had not entirely burned off
every patch of ground fog—remnants of moisture from the rains two
days before—it was still a beautiful morning.
    They traveled in silence for several minutes
until the trees began to thin somewhat and the path became wide
enough for them to walk abreast. At that point, conversations
continued. Eli shared general things with Pekah about his duties at
the temple in Ramathaim. He told Pekah about the temple site, the
altar of sacrifice, and the throngs of people who would bring their
offerings on celebrated holy days. With much expression, he
described the smells and the sounds, and even the distinct feelings
he felt while serving the people.
    “I have never felt such a sacred connection
to the divine or a deep reverence in my heart as I have there,” Eli
said solemnly. “It’s as if heaven itself is touching the ground,
and I am surrounded by it.”
    Pekah smiled politely, but did not
comment.
    Jonathan observed and listened. The temple
in Hasor, a place of teaching and worship, did not have a
sacrificial altar. His thoughts drifted back to the days when he
had traveled with his father and