Another Chance, Another Light

Brighter than the sunrays and glowing than the halos of the moon—a light, an unknown illumination that blinded his sight, but it never felt like a burn.

There, too, was the aroma of frankincense. It was everywhere. It danced along the orchestra of tambourine, lyre, flute, and a choral that seemed to echo out of nowhere. Azlan was dazed—bewildered by what the other senses conveyed as his eyes were still recovering from the burst of light.

Fingers twitched, and eyes started to flutter—

An angel appeared—no face but just a light that gave him a warm salutation.

Fingers twitched again, and lips began to blabber some words—

“Nondum tempus tuum.” In a deep yet gentle voice, the angel told him.

And as the Moor prince began to move on his bed, a poke alarmed his senses more. “Wake up—wake up!” Someone called. “Wake up! It is time to rise.” There it was again, with the trail of pokes on his leg.

With one last call, Azlan finally opened his eyes.