Chronicles of Flames

Author's note: What's up, my darlings? How have you been faring? 🤗
I guess you're wondering why I am writing to you at the beginning and not the end of this chapter as I normally do.
Firstly, I am so sorry for not updating this book for a long while. Life and school has been really demanding and I am not certain of how regular update will be released. 🥺
For my faithful readers and fans, I thought to insert a small recap of the last chapter to refresh your memory, because I also had to re-read the previous chapter to know where I left off.😅
Mind, you, I intend to remove this intro/recap part in the future.

*In recap narrator's voice. Dramatic music ensues.*📯
Previously on COF. Ella was in prison, fighting despair. Her father, Mr Drestor came to cajole her to return her allegiance to the water gods in three days or less, else all hell would let loose. She didn't reply till he left, under the instruction of the Holy Spirit. A divine compassion for her father came which she initially tried to resist. She eventually forgave and prayed for him from her heart, after picking up the fire and water pendant that most likely fell from him.
*Dramatic music ends. Voice scrambles back to normal.*

I hope you'll be pacified by the interestingness of this chapter and that you'll forgive me for the extremely late delivery. I know it's not my best chapter so far (as my writing muscles are just waking up and doing some warm-up exercises 💪🦾); it sure needs a great deal of polishing. I'll be happy if you could point out anything wrong you noticed. 🙂

I pray that the message behind this chapter will sink in deep and you won't remain the same in Jesus' name. 😇

~~~

"It's been two days!" Deborah's voice shook, an uneven blend of rage and fear.

She set a tray that held fruit drinks and sparkling glass cups on the glass centre table, beside a saucer on which part of the chocolate cake of the wedding sat. Even as she placed it down, she knew the act of hospitality was all for doing's sake. Nobody in close range was in the mood for drinks or cake or petty talk for that matter.

In the spiritual corners, the guardian angels were levitating, their wings a buzz of light, listening to the conversation going on amidst their wards.

"Two whole days since poor Ella was carted away to God-knows-where." Deborah sighed, resisting the urge to shed tears.

"Jay, I fear greatly for her safety," she continued. "Why did this trial have to come at the peak of her spiritual and emotional recovery? Oh dear Lord, I hope we find her in time so she won't forfeit her faith. And her college admission. The registration starts in less than two weeks time." Deborah sat on the broad arm of the settee where her husband was seated.

Matthew and his father were seated on two separate couches on the opposite side with ruminating expressions moulding their faces.

In more accurate terms, it had been a day, twenty-three hours, some minutes and some seconds since Deborah and Jeremiah had become one flesh. Approximately two days since Ella was gone.

The couple had no time to even think about or consider proceeding with their previously planned honeymoon on a fancy yacht.
Day and night they had been in hot coals, trying to figure out what happened and where in the world Ella had disappeared to. Their sleep had been mostly short and restive. Most of the night was spent thinking and praying.

Mr Pegamon had been very helpful, making calls and asking questions from high ranking officials.
They'd taken the pain of going to almost all the security agency offices in the island and had even insisted on checking the cells to see if she was hid somewhere there. So far, they'd got no luck.