The mists fell as day morphed into the evening, and the full array of the heavens came into view. A strong, cool wind began to snake its way rapidly through the avenues and down the narrow alleyways. The torches on the posts lining the streets flickered under its influence, barely keeping lit during the stronger gusts.
A tall figure clothed in thick, flowing, white robes with a hood that concealed his eyes materialized from the shadows of the western gate. His face was smooth and youthful, his figure sleek and fit. He paused after stepping into the light of a torch positioned at the entrance gate and looked toward the great hill that was the central point of the city. Along the side of the mount were small lights moving as if giant fireflies were positioning themselves on its western face. The robed figure began to walk down the boulevard that would take him to the heart of the city encircling the hill.
He lingered as others dressed in thin, flaxen, grayish robes came out of a limestone building on the right. One of them carried a small lamp in her hand. As they stepped into the lane, an especially strong burst of wind rushed down the street, blowing the door shut, causing the lantern to swing precariously, and whipping their clothes frantically around their delicate bodies. He watched as one of the men grabbed the hood of a small boy’s robe and pulled it closer around his head. Then, looking at the woman next to him, the man spoke, “It seems there is a strong wind tonight. Be sure to shield the lamp so it doesn’t go out.”
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