Final pages of the Chronicles of Windfallow

Coby motioned for Lee to bring the plasstring.  He addressed the crew members of the Quasar II, “Get these men secured and stay here to guard them.  You will be seeing a real light show in a few minutes, so don’t panic.  OK, Golden, please have your fellow Alari bring Kiota and his crew back to consciousness, then you are all free to return to Windfallow.”

He stretched out his hand to the Alari, “I thank you for all your help, Golden.  You and the fallowfolk have never been anything but hospitable and friendly toward us.  Go with our gratitude and prayers for your new home and our thanks to the Creator.” Coby kept hold of the Alari’s hand.  “Golden, could you show my crew who you really are before you go? And let Kiota know the real power that captured him and his crew?”

Slowly, each Alari who stood beside the spacer he had captured began to change.  As the spacers regained consciousness, they saw around them creatures with dazzling white robes, golden wings unfurled, and faces of burnished bronze.  And, instead of winking out as was their custom, Golden and the other Alari flew through the plasglass barrier and down to the planet.  No sound was heard as the humans watched their departure.

Then, as the Alari disappeared from view, the small planet, wreathed in light, exploded.  The blackness of space formed a backdrop for the mushrooming clouds of light and color.  Then the sky was empty, as though no planet had ever existed in this time and place.

Kiota gave an audible groan as he watched his dreams of wealth and power disintegrate.

One of the Quasar crew members found his voice and asked in a breathless whisper.  “Who were they, Captain?”

Coby fought for control.  He knew the planet had not died.  He knew God has just moved it beyond the reach of any human.  But Angari was gone.  And all hope of visiting that serene and beautiful planet was gone.  He cleared his throat, brushed his hand across his eyes and spoke, “You have just been given the honor of seeing the angels of Windfallow.  Kiota, these Alari are the same ones who captured you the first time you tried your tricks.  The rest of you, don’t ever forget; a world that seems vulnerable and yours for the taking, may have guardians you cannot see.  There is a God who created the universe and He watches over His children.”



Angari and his glorious companions rose through the blue-green sky of Windfallow.  As the home he’d known for centuries grew small and remote, the Alari concentrated on the brilliant light toward which they moved.  Brighter than a billion stars, it beckoned them onward.  When they had reached the outermost brilliance, his companions halted.  Golden put his hands on Angari’s shoulders and spoke for all, “My brother, we are now parted for a time.  You go to the Creator as His beloved servant.  We will meet again when all have come home!  Farewell!”

Angari was alone in the brightness.  He walked now on lush grass surrounded by sights and sounds so pure it made him weep.  Far ahead he saw figures coming to meet him.  Could it be?  Stiltz?  Sparrow?  Zach?  One by one they came to meet him.  Silent, but with smiling faces and outstretched hands, they walked with him.  Others joined them, kings and queens he had known through the centuries, joined in song and the brilliance increased.  It came not from stars but from the multitudes who came to greet him.  And there was more.  He felt as well as saw the scintillating brilliance arching high into the sky above the HolyCity; so distant yet so clear.  And he knew the One who waited for him.  Yes.  He was home.


As Angari moved into his home, a small planet slipped into orbit around the light.  Bathed in swirls of color, she shone with ruby, diamond, emerald, amethyst….



Here ends the translation of The Windfallow Chronicles.  The original books from Windfallow were once again placed in their wooden box; the aroma of new earth and springtime enveloping them.

Danny and his fellow translators took the box to the Dean’s office.  “Here are the originals and the translation, Dean Harlan.  We really enjoyed doing this for the scientists.  If you read the last couple of chapters, though, you’ll see that Windfallow is gone from our universe.  I guess we’ll never get to see if what they say is true.”

“Thank you, students; this will be credited to your index.”  The dean rose and shook hands with the three men and two women.

Only Angari, had he been present, would have seen the Creator’s Spirit shining in the young people. And he would have smiled.


About dswan2

Poet, author, columnist, lyricist, mother, grandmother, great-grandmother, wife of 50 years. Born and raised in America's Heartland
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