Reality slowly came back into focus with a series of rough bumps. Jonah groaned, slowly forcing open his crusty eyes. The world slowly came into focus, a dark enclosure filled with people. He slowly sat up, and immediately became the center of attention. He was instantly bombarded with a myriad of whispered questions. Raising a hand for silence he took stock of the situation. His prolific wounds had been roughly bandaged but he couldn't feel any infection yet. In these conditions it was only a matter of time. He was in what appeared to be a moving convoy, likely a truck, with all of his people.

“Did anyone get away?” he questioned.

“No” came the tortured response.

He sighed and leaned back. Mary, sitting next to him, immediately checked his temperature.

“Does anyone know where we are going?”

This time it was Mary that answered,

“Auchate”

He closed his eyes. That was one of the worst. He still didn't have enough information to determine if they worked the occupants to death or just straight out killed them.

“Jonah…” Mary whispered, “What do we do?”

He considered her question, peering into the shadows for a hint of light. And found none. They were doomed. He wondered if he should keep up the charade, the lie. He looked over at Mary, his most ardent supporter, and beheld the confidence she had in him. Was it justified? He no longer knew. If he continued the lie, it could shatter his people upon his most assuredly public execution. But if he told the truth it could also break them. His judgment was compromised. He needed help.

“Mary,” he whispered, “I need your help”

She looked surprised,

“Really?” she whispered back.

“Yes, but first you need to know something.”

And he told her. About his brokenness. About the inevitability of their demise. About lying. He told her everything, everything except the falseness of God. She truly was devout and deserved more than being told her god was false.

“And I need to know your opinion. Do I tell them now and risk breaking them? Or do I let my death break them?” He finished.

For a moment Mary just looked at him silently. Then she surged forward and seized him in an intense hug, tears beginning to form in her eyes. To say Jonah was surprised is an understatement. Mary had almost always been calm and composed.

“Mary, are you ok?” he whispered through the hug.

She ignored him and continued to clutch him like he was a hurt child.

Finally, after what seemed like hours she leaned back.

“What was that fo…”

Then she slapped him. Right in the face.

“You idiot” she hissed, “You stupid idiot. Why didn't you tell me sooner?”

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“I’m sorry,” he hung his head, “I thought if you knew it would take away the scarps of hope you managed to ignite. I didn't want my people's last moments to be in fear. I wanted them to hope for a better future even if it's ultimately useless.”

“No idiot. Why didn't you tell me you thought you were broken?”

“Because it didn't seem relevant?”

“You are not broken”

“I am”

That only seemed to make her more mad.

“You. Are. Not” at this point the people around them were beginning to look at them.

“I have seen your heart, Jonah Grimlek” she continued, “And it is good. You are good.”

Her words hit something deep inside Jonah, and he felt something in his chest getting heavier.

“But I lied,” he replied, surprised to find his voice beginning to tremble, “I ran. I failed. Now we’re all going to die.”

Recognizing the growing tremble in his voice Mary’s expression softened and she gently guided his head to lay in her lap. Looking down into his eyes, she continued,

“You did not lie, you tried. You cannot see everything. You did not run, you saved yourself. You cannot fight everything. You did not fail. Look around. We still have hope. Because of you.”

Her brilliant green eyes speared him, breaking past the defenses he had built around his mind.

He began to reach for counter-arguments but found none. In the face of her passion, all else seemed meaningless. All he found was one futile denial.

“But I am broken.”

Mary sighed, gently brushing the hair out of his face,

“You are not broken, love. You are mighty.”

Such a simple statement, yet it shattered him.

Mary shielded him as he silently cried, tears streaming down his face as he came to a realization.

He was not broken. He was good. He was mighty. He was Jonah.

He did not know how long he cried. All he knew was that Mary was with him every step of the way.

Finally, his tears abated, and he found a new self-image spring into being deep within him. No longer was he a broken liar. Now he was a mighty leader.

He breathed in deep, opening his eyes to meet Mary’s green orbs.

“Do you understand,” she asked lightly, playfully, “Or do you need some more smacking.”

He chuckled,

“I think I’m good”

She smiled and helped him sit up.

“As for the earlier question…”

“There are no lies to admit to” she quickly cut in.

“I know. I know” he said, raising his arms in surrender, “but what about my execution?”

Mary stared into space for a second, seeing something he didn't.

“I don't like you talking about your death like that.” she whispered.

“Like what?”

“Like it's inevitable.”

“Well…it is, isn't it?”

“No!” she responded fiercely.

“I will fight it to the end, Mary. But I need to take precautions. Make sure my death is the end of me and only me.”

She gazed at him with a sense of deep sadness, then sighed,

“You idiot,” she muttered.

“What?”

“I said, you idiot. You are more than just a man. You created a concept greater than you. Remember: Jonah, King of Zors? So long as you stay true to yourself, that concept will live far beyond your mortal flesh”

He thought of her words and found them true. He had created a legacy of hope and resistance that would outlive his mortal body.

Mary smiled at the realization on his face,

“Good. Now let's get some praying in. Can't hurt to have God on our side.”

He was about to turn her down, citing his hatred of me, but then stopped. Praying did not necessarily need to be a religious thing. It could be communal.

So he joined them in prayer, taking comfort from their presence. To them, it looked like he was devoutly praying with them, but only I heard the true curses he cast to me.

Suddenly, the door burst open and Fraldian soldiers burst in. Before anybody could even react they had grabbed Jonah and dragged him out the door. The last thing he heard before he was knocked out was Mary’s tortured scream,

“JONAH!”

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