“Your name again?” He momentarily fidgeted at his seat struggling to stay composed in the face of the unusual transmission via intercom in the situation room.
“Herald and the Mess…Me…Messenger.”
“What?” There was a sharp crackle in the speaker.
“I had to call. You are chosen. Kingpin in a terminal duel pitting two worlds. Whether by fate or design I have not a clue. It seems though it was the reason you were born. The moment to actualize this very purpose is here. Not a force within or without has what it takes to thwart it. For the decisive hand of destiny steers its resolute course.”
The ensuing eerie moment of silence saw some uneasy glances flash across the room. The stealthy presence emanating from elaborate security detail marking the room brought a sense of reassurance.
“The galaxies and powers of the universe rhythmically merge in a unified bow of echo. Yours will eternally go down the annals of the legends. Woman, child and man to embrace in wisdom and to sparkle as a sobering reminder, in theory and demonstration. A great paradox without a shadow of doubt. For in the end, to be chosen, purpose, and destiny bear the subjective tag. So does the Legend. These all stand as relative terms, because in spite of the clout they project; one spinning the human race in a myriad of search waves, it matters most what side of the coin one represents. The deadlock persists. It must be broken, will be broken. There are no spectators, only players…chosen, in destiny for a purpose.”
The silence was threatening. Everyone held their breath.
“You have an appointment at Ten…a yellow card!”
“How do you know this?”
“He is before all things and in him all things hold together!”
“It doesn’t make sense!” Protested an agitated Herald. “You will never make your point. We are swimming against the tide. What’s unique about our game? Snakes, snakes and snakes is all we have in response. What happened to your math skill on probability? You used to be so good at it. I miss the good oldies!”
“Fine then-But this is not about us, remember?” Replied the Messenger in a tone loaded with tones of surprise. “You forgot ladders when you said snakes! And that unlike the snakes, ladders are functionally dual sided. Sorry I have to do this again and remind you that golden word again…a mark of virtue: Patience! You keep drifting from the basics, my friend.”
“Aye-aye Mr Bravo! I saw that helter-skelter stunt next to the bush!” The Herald pointed mischievously.
“We have enough ammunition at our disposal to see to it every move he makes is adequately countered and neutralized,” spoke a reassuring official in the situation room. “Don’t worry, Sir. This is just a small problem. It’s well covered.”
“Do I have your word on this, officer?” Enquired a pensive President.
“Affirmative.” Replied the composed official almost immediately.
“I don’t want any funny-funny people giving me this mess-me business, not to mention unscheduled appointments, right?”
“Perfect, Sir. I think he meant ten snakes. We will be waiting for him with say a thousand or ten!” Interjected the official calmly, his demeanor brightening up. His colleagues and a host of state officials and advisers nodded in agreement.
“And by the way, while at it, would you please present them a glowing yellow card on my behalf-will you?!”
“With pleasure Sir.”
The room erupted in a roar of applause, with full salutes flashing as the head of state made a hurried exit from the room, his security detail in tow.
The Yellow Card; when The Blazing Trail returns…
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