A New Beginning

The sun was rising over the mountain, casting a golden light over the snow-dappled trees and jagged rocks. The air was crisp and still, as though the earth itself was holding its breath in reverence for what had been lost—and what had been saved.

The group sat near the edge of the mountain, their bodies exhausted but their spirits heavy with a strange mixture of grief and hope. Annabeth’s journal rested on her lap, her hands trembling slightly as she turned its worn pages.

No one spoke at first. The weight of Wendee’s sacrifice lingered, her final moments etched into their memories like a glowing ember. She had saved them all, but more importantly, she had saved herself, stepping into the light she had once thought lost.

Jason broke the silence, his amber eyes fixed on the horizon. “She knew what she was doing,” he said quietly. “She knew the cost, and she didn’t hesitate.”

“She didn’t just save us,” Annabeth said softly, her voice steady despite the tears welling in her eyes. “She showed us what it means to let go of the darkness. To trust in something greater than yourself.”

Emmalyn, her arm in a makeshift sling, shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone braver,” she said. “She believed in you, Annabeth. In your faith. And in... in your God.”

Kyran nodded slowly, his face pale but contemplative. “She found peace. Real peace. I don’t think that would have been possible without you.”

Annabeth shook her head, her voice trembling. “It wasn’t me. It was God. He never stopped reaching out to her. She just needed to take His hand.”

Annie sat with her arms wrapped around her knees, her eyes distant. “I don’t know if I get it yet,” she said hesitantly. “This faith of yours. But... watching her change like that, seeing her find light in the middle of all that darkness—it makes me want to understand.”

Jason turned to Annabeth, his expression serious. “I’ve spent a long time doubting. Running. Thinking I had to fix everything myself. But what you’ve shown me, what Wendee’s sacrifice showed us... it’s clear we weren’t meant to walk this path alone. I want to believe, Annabeth. I think... I think I’m ready to start.”

Emmalyn gave a small, rueful smile. “I’m not sure I’ll ever be as strong as you, Annabeth. But I don’t want to keep running from the truth anymore. You’ve been saying it all along—there’s something bigger guiding us. And maybe it’s time I start trusting that.”

Annabeth’s heart swelled, the weight of their words settling over her like a warm embrace. She wiped the tears from her cheeks, her voice soft but steady. “Faith isn’t about having all the answers. It’s about taking the first step, trusting that God is with you every moment, even when it feels impossible.”

Kyran leaned forward, his gaze earnest. “Then guide us, Annabeth. Teach us how to take that step. Show us how to find what you’ve found.”

Annabeth took a deep breath, her fingers brushing the pages of her journal. “It starts with prayer. With talking to God. He’s always listening, and He knows your heart better than anyone.” She paused, her voice quiet but filled with conviction. “If you’re ready, I can lead us.”

The group exchanged glances, then nodded as one.

Annabeth closed her journal and clasped her hands, her eyes closing as she began to pray. “Lord, thank You for bringing us this far. Thank You for Wendee’s sacrifice, for her light, and for the reminder that no one is too far from Your grace. We’re here now, ready to trust You. Please guide us in the days ahead, and show us how to walk in faith and light. Amen.”

When she opened her eyes, the group sat in reverent silence, the tension that had weighed on them for so long replaced with a quiet peace.

Jason was the first to speak. “What do we do next?”

Annabeth smiled, the sunrise casting a golden glow across her face. “We move forward. We help rebuild what’s been broken. And we share what we’ve learned—that even in the darkest moments, there’s always hope. Always light. Always God.”

As the group began their descent from the mountain, the air seemed lighter, the path ahead no longer shrouded in fear but illuminated by purpose. The scroll was gone, its power extinguished, but the journey had forged something far more lasting—a bond of faith, hope, and the promise of redemption.

And for the first time in a long time, Annabeth felt the weight on her heart lift, replaced by a profound sense of peace. Thank You, Lord. For guiding us. For saving us. For showing us the way.