Firefly Ravine The Hypostasis of the Archons

Warmth, delight, the soft joy of imparting what was most dear to him—

when was the last time he had felt these things?

For a moment the reserved line of his mouth trembled with emotion.

First, I must baptise you in flowing water.

He glanced back to the stream. His ankles were still dampened, but he welcomed the lingering chill.

Baptism is a kind of rebirth and a surrender at once.

But there were no words he could use that could contain what it did for one's soul. He recalled his own baptism: the sap on his forehead, the immersion, the communion which followed.

Come.

He turned to walk to the river, in the direction they had wandered from.