Epiphany Fire

by R. A. Conti

Hannaford enjoyed her job. She liked pursuing infidels and punishing blasphemers. Some of them were clever, but most were stupid. The clever ones took a while to capture. The stupid ones almost always walked blindly into the traps. She was good at setting traps.

Hannaford worked for the Ministry of the One True Religion. People called it MOTR for convenience. Hannaford liked the nickname. She liked being a MOTR agent. There were lots of them, but she knew that she was the best. She had to be. Without MOTR, she would be nothing.

However, Hannaford had a secret. It involved the One True Religion. Not the Ministry itself, but the God who was above them all and whom they all supposedly served. Hannaford was not, deep within herself, a believer.

Each time she encountered a blasphemer or infidel, just before she dispatched them to the special Hell reserved for their kind, Hannaford took a moment to look into their eyes. Deeply.

Some averted their gaze and steeled themselves for what they knew she was about to do. Some showed terror. Others remorse. Some pleaded with their eyes. 

Hannaford paused because she was waiting for something. Hoping for it. She never asked them any questions. Never showed anything but cold efficiency. But underneath… Hannaford was searching for the truth. Not just any truth. Her own truth. Comprehensive. Unshakeable. Uplifting. 

So far, she hadn’t found it. No one she captured had spoken and everyone showed nothing more than defiance. They had challenged MOTR and the One True God, but not because they possessed superior knowledge, truth, wisdom, or insight. Merely because it seemed in their nature to refuse to accept authority. 

So, she had arrested them. Then she continued looking for more heretics and infidels, hoping she would find someone to reveal what was missing in her life. Not the Truth of God. What did that mean, anyway? Hannaford wanted her own truth. She wanted to know who she was, what she meant, and why she had been born. 

Surely (she felt), it was not merely to pursue infidels.

***

The group had been moving around in areas outside the city, and Hannaford had been quietly surveilling it. The small band of people didn’t seem big enough to call a cult. But that was what it was, as far as she could tell. 

Hoping to discern which person was the leader, she listened carefully via eavesdropping devices whenever the group stopped to charge their vehicles, get food, or settle down for the night. So far, it appeared that no one was giving orders or even making decisions. In fact, choices, options, and plans were never discussed. It was almost as if the group knew what to do and everyone just did it, instinctively, without specific direction from anyone.

It was dark. They were all sitting around a campfire in a clearing in the woods. Hannaford was crouched to conceal herself. She was close enough to watch and listen through devices. She studied the group of eight men and women. Various ages. No children. They were quiet. Too quiet. At first, she thought they had fallen asleep. But they were all sitting up, and their eyes were open.

What are they doing? she thought. Hannaford was baffled.

Then she heard a noise behind her. Alarmed, she stood and turned. A woman was approaching in the dark. Before Hannaford could react, the woman spoke. “You are welcome to join us,” she said in a soft, clear voice. “We welcome everyone to share the fire.”

Hannaford was taken aback. She was used to being in control, but felt this woman had power over her. It wasn’t a hostile power, however. It was gentle, kind, and enveloping. 

Hannaford felt welcomed. “I… I…,” she stammered.

The woman smiled graciously. “Or not. It’s your decision. You’re free to do what you please.”

The woman walked past her and joined the others in the circle around the campfire. Hannaford stood there feeling perplexed. Free? she thought. I’m free? No one had ever told her that before. She had never even thought it. If she had, she would have become alarmed. 

More than a century earlier, freedom had been outlawed. Unquestioning absolute obedience had replaced it. Hannaford had always been obedient. She prided herself on her obedience. Moreover, she was proud of catching the people she pursued for their disobedience. Until now. 

Because this group of people seemed different, somehow. She realized they didn’t seem disobedient. But they didn’t seem obedient, either. Maybe they’re just free, she thought. Maybe that’s what freedom means.

She sighed and walked slowly toward the circle. No one looked when she settled onto a log. She waited. No one smiled. No one moved. What the hell are they doing? she again thought. The answer they would have given, if she had asked directly, was nothing. Just… nothing. But no one spoke.

Respecting the silence of the others, Hannaford sat quietly. Her eyes were drawn to the fire. She noticed the way the flames danced spontaneously as they crackled and saw glowing embers rise freely into the air. How lovely, she thought. Although she had seen fires before, Hannaford couldn’t recall ever really observing one. Were they all like this? Why hadn’t she noticed? 

She didn’t realize it, but something was happening to her. What have I been missing? She thought, anxiously. Unbidden, the far-ranging answer erupted into her consciousness: Life! 

Quietly, the group stood up and walked away.

Hannaford looked at them and didn’t know what she was supposed to do. Should she get up and follow them? What about the fire? Were they coming back to extinguish it? Were they expecting her to extinguish it? Too many questions.

Then she reminded herself of what she had learned. I’m free, Hannaford thought. Another question followed immediately. What do I want to do?

It was a thought she had never experienced. Nor was it a question she had ever been asked. She had only ever obeyed. Only ever done what she was told. Only ever complied. 

Acknowledging what her life had been up to this moment, Hannaford looked into the fire and started to cry. When she stopped, a few minutes later, she asked herself another question. “What do I do now?”

“Do what we do,” a voice said.

Hannaford looked up. One of the men who had been sitting around the fire stood looking at her. He was smiling kindly. His eyes reflected the dancing flames and looked as if they were sparkling.

She wiped her tears with her sleeve. “What do you mean?” she asked. Her voice was weak.

“The answers you were seeking were already within you. All you needed was a way to find them. The fire helped you see yourself. That path is open to everyone.”

Hannaford still felt puzzled. “But what do I do…?” 

“Help people find their path,” he replied.

“By joining your group?”  

He shook his head. “Not necessarily.”

“So what then?”

“Just light your own fire,” the man replied. Then he turned and slowly walked away. 

Hannaford watched him disappear into the darkness beyond the firelight. She wasn’t sure that she understood. She also wasn’t sure she knew how to build the kind of fire he meant. But she fervently wanted the world to change. She wanted to awaken other people to life and freedom the way the fire had awakened her. All she had to do was try. So, that’s what she decided to do. 

Building an epiphany fire turned out to be easier than Hannaford thought. But she only got to make one. As soon as it was burning brightly, MOTR agents swooped in. After they handcuffed her, they extinguished the fire and walked her toward the car that would take her back to MOTR headquarters. As Hannaford was getting in, she noticed the woman she had encountered in the forest, the same one who had encouraged her to sit with the others and contemplate the fire. The woman flashed a MOTR badge. Hannaford gasped. She realized that she wasn’t the only one who was clever at setting traps. 

But she had discovered the truth. She was free. So was everyone else. Life was freedom.

The car started moving. Hannaford gazed out of the window at the people in the streets and realized that her discovery meant nothing. Truth meant nothing. Freedom meant nothing. Hannaford’s world was never going to change.