The Parable of the Sacrificed Queen
Chaos echoed across the valleys, rung through church steeples, and found its way to Paradise Hill, where the King, wise and as old as the mountains, paced the royal courtyard.
“Summon the knights and rooks,” commanded the King, who continued to pace and breathe heavily. Disorder, running amuck as orphans in the street, descended onto the villages of Terrafirman. The hours grew longer as the King paced, and his eyes, set firmly on the ground, refused to look up.
“Master, the knights of Terrafirman decline your request to meet. They send their humblest apologies and hopes that the situation will end, immediately. If it was any other conflict, they would indefinitely comply with your wishes. As for the rooks, Master, they lifted the gates as I approached. I commanded them to let down their drawbridge, but one yelled from the bastion, “The rooks of Terrafirman have commanded that we deny access to any party of the King’s.”
The King, standing silent and still, turned to his balcony and gazed over the land. With the sun casting its pink haze over the villages, the King looked to the heavens and wept,
“My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow until the point of death! Let this cup pass from me.”
“Master, if you wish for us to summon the bishops, we will do as you command.”
“No, rise and go to your quarters, for in the morning, peace will be our ruler,” spoke the King. His wrinkled forehead bowed to the heavens as he stepped back into the throneroom. A gentle knock filled the room, and as the King opened the door, His eyes met the Queen. She stared intently into the King’s eyes, and when the tear fell from Her rosy cheek, He ushered her into the chamber.
“My dearest Lady, the rulers of Tophet have released torment on the kingdoms. They insist that the chaos will continue until I entrust them with my most valuable possession. If I do this thing, the kingdoms will be saved from all chaos and disorder.”
“What must you give them?” questioned the Queen, and as the King bowed His forehead, He answered, “You.” They sat in silence, overlooking the villages where fire, weeping, and pillaging shook the cobblestone streets.
The morning light ambled through the villages and up Paradise Hill. Dew, blanketing the grass and guard towers, forced the knights to wear their surcoats. As they drooped against their posts, some sank into a restful nap, while others watched the two riders leaving the castle. The riders trotted through the villages, resting only to enjoy a loaf of bread before continuing their journey. They arrived in Tophet at twilight, hitching their horses to a tree near the castle. As the drawbridge lowered, the ruler of Tophet met the riders and laughed,
“Welcome Lord Shaddai and your Majesty the Queen,” kissing the Queen’s hand.
“We have been expecting your arrival for quite some time now and have prepared a place for you to stay.”
“I do not intend on staying,” spoke the King.
“Oh, not for You, but for Her,” he chuckled. After escorting them into the throneroom, the ruler of Tophet had the Queen stand before him. As the knights and rooks surrounded the King and the Queen, the ruler commanded that the King be given a fresh horse for the journey home. Darkness loomed over the land, and the rooks of Tophet threw the King into the streets of Tophet with His horse. Leaving the Queen, He rode through the night until He reached Terrafirman and Paradise Hill. The King had given His most valuable possession to His enemy, and as three days passed, He searched the horizon for His Queen. On the morning of the third day, the King’s bowed forehead looked up and watched as His Queen rode through the village of Terrafirman and up Paradise Hill. As the King shed a tear of joy, He cried,
“It is finished.”