Redemption

The lines of the scroll read destruction, but she heard redemption. Not in the way that the story was told or the phrases that were used, but as an interruption. The thin paper was unfurled and a man with an aged, white beard read it in two languages, one she knew and one she did not recognize. It was a tale of woe. The words were precise and easily understood. The meaning was clear. It was a proclamation of despair. If you heard only the words of the story, all was hopeless. But as it was told, she heard a whisper, a quiet shout, a still, small voice, repeating over and over: redemption. Your destruction has come, you deserve it, you've earned it, but before it reaches you, a rescuer intervenes and carries you to safety. All of your wise men, prior experience, and hidden knowledge have not predicted this salvation. You will see it with your own eyes.