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Sunday, February 7, 2016

The First Trumpet

The first Contest would be held outside the castle walls, in the courtyard.

Torches blazed and the full moon provided a shimmering light which danced upon the two knights.

The townspeople had gathered and the Magic Man had seated himself in a balcony to watch.

The white stallion and his rider's armor of silver gleamed in the moonlight. They faced off against the dark knight, representing the Magician.

As the horses pawed the ground, the Knights readied their lances.

Now charging toward one another, the King pointed his lance and it was all over in an instant as the dark knight landed with a thud on the hardened ground.

He lay there, quite still, as the crowd hushed.

Now dismounted, the King removed his gloves and helmet. He knelt down before the stricken dark knight. He removed the man's helmet to the sound of shocked gasps from the crowd. It was empty!  Only darkness could be seen inside the man's armor.

"You're alright. You just had the breath knocked out of you."  The King looked kindly upon the fellow that only he could see. He touched his cheek, and the color returned to the man's face. The ladies fainted, some others shrieked, as Bartholomew slowly became visible.

Breathing in deeply, Bartholomew took off his gloves of mail and looked in disbelief at the color of his own skin. The King helped him stand as he was still trembling.

"I have faced your challenge."

The King spoke again, this time to the townspeople.

"I am Joseph.  Your lands are returned to you. You are free."

"You have failed." A red faced Prometheus bellowed down from the castle.

"You are no further use to me."  With an angry gesture, he jabbed his finger at the servant. Yellow streaks shot forth towards the hapless Bartholomew. Yet he stood, unharmed, still looking down in awe at his own hands.

"You have played well this round."  Prometheus vanished in a pique of green smoke. Yellow dust filtered the air where he had stood.

Joseph smiled as his wife's kisses adorned his face. She had bolted from the stands and thrown her arms around his neck.

Smiles were all around, as Bartholomew returned home to tend to his Master.

Joseph and his wife led the horses to the stables.

All was peaceful but there would be no time for rest.

The trumpets blared. It was the second horn.

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