ALTAR OF DRIFT | THE FINALE
Night pressed gently against the windows, shadows stretching along the walls as the house breathed slowly, cautiously, as if afraid to disturb what was about to unfold.
Cassian sat on the edge of the bed, his posture bent under invisible weight, one arm carefully supporting Seraphina’s shoulders.
Zionel and Elara stood a few steps away, close enough to feel the tension, far enough to give space.
Thaniel leaned near the doorframe, hands clasped, eyes alert yet steady, as though guarding the threshold between fear and hope.
Cassian’s throat tightened. His free hand trembled as he lifted it slightly, then let it fall back onto his lap.
His gaze never left his wife’s face—searching, breaking, hoping. The room seemed to lean inward as his voice gathered courage.
Cassian (shaken):
“I… I can’t pretend anymore. I’ve given my life to Jesus. Truly this time. Not because things fell apart… but because now I see. And if he could forgive me, then… then it’s time.”
The words lingered in the air like fragile glass. A hush rippled through the room, the night pressing closer, as if listening.
Zionel lowered his head slightly. Elara’s breath caught. Thaniel’s grip tightened.
Somewhere unseen, chains seemed to strain.
Seraphina’s eyes shimmered. Her lips trembled as she turned her face slightly toward him, pain and fear wrestling within her.
The sound of fabric shifting beneath her fingers broke the silence before her tone emerged, thin and vulnerable.
Seraphina (ashamed):
“Do you truly believe… God can still forgive someone like me?”
The room dimmed further, as though the question itself carried weight. A tear escaped, tracing a slow path down her cheek, soaking into the pillow.
Cassian’s breath hitched. Elara pressed her hands together. The air trembled faintly.
Her eyelids fluttered shut briefly. When she spoke again, her voice bore the weight of confession.
Seraphina (weak):
“I am not just a sinner, Cassian. I fought him. I ruined his servants. I stood against his light… I destroyed lives.”
Her fingers curled tightly against the bedsheet. Her breathing grew shallow, uneven, as if the words were draining strength from her.
The shadows along the walls seemed to shift, restless.
Her tone broke further, trembling on the edge of despair.
Seraphina (broken):
“Is… is there still mercy for someone like me? Can the blood of Jesus reach this deep?”
The room held its breath. Silence thickened, pressing against every heart. Even the night outside seemed to pause, waiting.
Then—before anyone could answer—a softer sound cut through the stillness.
A small voice rose from behind the door, steady yet trembling, carrying a purity that startled the darkness.
Orean (gentle):
“Yes mum…”
Every head turned at once. The bedroom door creaked open fully, its sound echoing softly.
Orean stood barefoot on the cool tile, one hand clutching the doorframe, eyes wet but determined.
He stepped forward slowly, each movement deliberate, as though walking into sacred ground. The spiritual air shifted, light stirring where fear had lingered.
He reached the bed and placed his small hand over Seraphina’s. The contact sent a visible shudder through her.
Cassian sucked in a sharp breath. Zionel’s eyes softened. Elara’s lips parted in awe.
Orean’s tone steadied, carrying childlike certainty that rang louder than thunder.
Orean (firm):
“Mum, Jesus loves you… his blood can cleanse and set you free. For he saves the worst among us.”
A warmth seemed to spread outward from the bed, subtle but undeniable.
Orean swallowed hard, lifting his face, eyes shining with conviction beyond his years. His voice—quiet, yet trembling with heartfelt urgency.
Orean (earnest):
“The Bible says, ‘This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners.’”
The Scripture settled into the room like holy oil. Zionel bowed his head. Thaniel’s shoulders relaxed. The unseen realm stirred—darkness retreating, light pressing in.
Orean climbed onto the mattress, kneeling beside her. He cupped her face gently with both hands, glancing briefly toward Cassian, Zionel, and Elara, then back to her, unwavering.
His gaze steady and tone catching just slightly with urgency.
Orean (pleading):
“If Jesus can save the wretches like Zionel, Elara, and dad… he surely can save you. It’s not too late.”
Seraphina’s face crumpled. The strength holding her together gave way. Orean’s voice softened, tears pooling but hope shining through.
Orean (tearful):
“Mum… I love you… dad loves you. They love you.”
Her breath hitched violently. The room seemed to tilt under the weight of love spoken so plainly.
Orean leaned closer, resting his forehead against hers, his tone cracking but resolute.
Orean (soft):
“And Jesus… Jesus loves you more than all of us.”
Seraphina’s body shook as a sob broke free—then another. Cassian wrapped his arms around her, holding her as though afraid she might disappear.
Tears streamed down his face, dripping onto the blanket.
Elara covered her mouth, weeping silently. Thaniel closed his eyes, whispering thanks under his breath.
The spiritual atmosphere shifted—something dark loosening its grip.
Seraphina’s shoulders shook, lips parting with a trembling sigh. Her voice cracked, fragile and raw, before the words even formed.
Seraphina (broken):
“I don’t deserve this mercy.”
Slow footsteps crossed the tiled floor. Zionel stepped forward, the room parting for him.
He knelt beside the bed, resting one hand on the frame. His tone carried calm authority, grounded and gentle, steady as bedrock.
Zionel (gentle):
“None of us do.”
He lifted his eyes heavenward briefly, as though acknowledging a presence unseen, then returned them to her. His breath was measured, voice tender with quiet conviction.
Zionel (steady):
“The Scripture says, ‘Where sin abounded, grace did much more abound.’”
The words settled deep, echoing softly against the walls. The room felt lighter, as if something unseen had bowed.
Zionel paused, allowing the truth to sink in, then spoke again.
Zionel (inviting):
“Grace does not ask where you came from. It asks whether you will come.”
Seraphina’s chest shook violently. Tears spilled freely now, soaking into the pillow.
Her hands clenched, then slowly relaxed, as though something inside her finally let go. The shadows recoiled. Peace crept in.
A broken breath escaped her lips, the words dragging themselves out between sobs, thin and worn down to the bone.
Seraphina (exhausted):
“I’m tired… I’m so tired of darkness. I don’t want darkness anymore.”
Her lips trembled as she gathered strength for one final plea.
Seraphina (pleading):
“Jesus… if you can still hear me… please… forgive me… save me.”
Thaniel stepped forward quietly, lowering himself to one knee. Zionel and Elara followed, the cool tile grounding them.
Cassian slid down from the bed, kneeling as well, one hand still holding Seraphina’s. The room formed a circle of surrender.
Thaniel’s voice rose first, steady and anchored in truth.
Thaniel (faithful):
“Lord Jesus, you said, ‘Him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out.’ We stand on your word.”
Zionel lifted his hands slowly, palms open, posture yielding. His breath caught briefly, a quiet tremor underlining the reverence in his tone.
Zionel (reverent):
“By your blood, Lord. Not by works. Not by history. Let mercy speak now.”
As their voices rose in prayer, the room seemed to breathe. The air grew lighter, warmer.
Peace settled gently, like warmth after cold. Invisible chains snapped. Fear dissolved. Heaven leaned close.
They prayed—not loudly, not hurriedly—but with words flowing like quiet water, carrying confession, mercy, and surrender.
Seraphina’s lips moved faintly at first, then stronger, repentance rising with conviction.
As the final “Amen” left their mouths, a sudden stillness settled.
Seraphina’s breathing steadied. Her clenched face relaxed. Strength returned slowly to her fingers. Her shoulders eased. Color crept back into her skin.
Elara gasped softly as Seraphina opened her eyes fully and sat up without assistance. Light seemed to rest upon her.
A shaky breath escaped Seraphina, her voice barely more than a whisper, trembling with awe and disbelief.
Seraphina (astonished):
“I… I feel free.”
Cassian stared, his mouth falling open. Everyone dropped to their knees instinctively. Tears struck the tiles.
Praise rose—quiet at first, then stronger—filling the room with thanksgiving.
All (grateful):
“Thank You, Jesus.”
Zionel, Elara, and Thaniel spent the night in the house of Cassian until the following day.
Morning light filtered into the living room where they gathered again, praying and giving glory to the Lord. The hum of peace lingered thick in the air.
At that exact moment, a knock sounded at the front door. Elara stood and crossed the room, opening it.
Two utility workers stepped inside, holding clipboards, blinking at the atmosphere they’d walked into.
The taller one cleared his throat, voice hesitant, careful not to startle anyone.
Utility Officer (polite):
“We’re here to restore the water and electricity. All outstanding bills have been settled.”
As they spoke, light flooded Cassian’s house once again, bulbs glowing steadily. Water flowed through the pipes with a steady rush. Joy surged through the space like a tide.
Just then, Cassian’s phone rang. He stared at the screen, fingers frozen over the buttons, a tight swallow betraying his hesitation before he finally answered.
Cassian (stunned):
“Hello?”
A pause. His eyes widened, voice faltering as he processed the words on the other end.
Cassian (incredulous):
“Yes… yes sir. I understand. Thank you.”
He ended the call slowly, lifting his head as if to make sure the news was real. A shaky exhale escaped him, a mixture of relief and disbelief.
Cassian’s lips curved into a tentative smile, voice light and almost laughing, as if still testing reality
Cassian (smiling):
“My job… they said… I should resume work immediately.”
From the hallway, Orean’s phone buzzed with a school notification. He snatched it up, eyes lighting, a wide grin splitting his face.
His tone practically bubbled over with excitement before he even spoke.
Orean (bright):
“They said I can return to school!”
Joy burst through the room like sunlight after rain. Laughter and tears mingled freely. Elara covered her mouth, laughing through tears as her voice trembled with wonder.
Elara (awed):
“God has done this.”
Far beyond human sight, thunder cracked across the unseen realms. Darkness fractured. Power collapsed. What once ruled in shadows dissolved beneath divine authority.
Days later, voices filled a bright hall again—not with noise, but with sincerity. Hearts gave freely. Hands lifted willingly. A church rose again—not in haste, but in obedience.
Its name returned, redeemed and purified: CHRISTLIKE CHURCH.
This time, lives changed deeply. Quietly. Truly.
Now restored, Cassian sat beside Seraphina as Orean leaned between them, laughter filling their living room. Peace rested thick upon the house.
In another place, beneath trimmed flowers in a church office garden, Zionel walked slowly with Elara, hands entwined, peace settling deep in their steps.
Flowers swayed gently in the breeze. Laughter came easily now.
Thaniel approached from behind, footsteps soft but deliberate.
Zionel turned, lips parting to speak, but Thaniel lifted a finger, a sly grin tugging at his lips. His voice came easy, teasing, like a laugh barely held back.
Thaniel (amused):
“Not again. I didn’t come here to trim flowers.”
They laughed—free, unburdened.
They joined hands, heads bowed, as the evening breeze passed softly through the garden, carrying their prayer upward—gratitude, reverence, and rest.
THE END.
Written by Agbemawle Atsu Norvishi
© All Rights Reserved. Shared freely to bless and inspire.
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