Night had completely fallen when Efraín took his first steps toward the hill. The
path, which during the day had seemed harmless, now loomed like a dark
silhouette dominating the landscape. The mist covered the roots, bushes, and
rocks like a thick veil, making it impossible to see more than a few meters ahead.
Nevertheless, Efraín advanced without hesitation, guided not by his senses, but by
a deep conviction.
Go up.
The word continued to resonate within him, marking his rhythm, propelling him
forward.
The wind blew with a different intensity, as if accompanying her steps. It wasn't
cold; on the contrary, it had a subtle warmth that reminded her of the presence
she had felt at the prayer meetings. It was as if the hill itself had transformed into
a silent temple where every leaf vibrated with a message.
With each step, the fog seemed to part just enough to allow him to advance,closing
behind him like a portal that didn't want to leave any witnesses to the path he was
traveling.
Efraín paused for a moment to look behind him.The village lights shone in the distance, tiny, fragile, like a candle exposed to the
wind. The group was still there, he knew it. He could feel their eyes supporting him,
even though none of them couldWatch it now.
He took a deep breath and continued.
As I climbed higher, the silence grew deeper and deeper. There were no
crickets.There were no creaking branches. There were no nocturnal animals.
Nothing.
The silence was so absolute that he could hear his own breathing as if it were an
echo.inside a cave.
After a long stretch, the fog began to dissipate. Not completely, but enough to
reveal a narrow path that spiraled upwards around thehill. I didn't remember ever
seeing that road before.
It was as if she had appeared for him.
As if it had been designed solely for that moment.
"Lord..." he murmured. "Guide me."
The word Lord came out of his lips with a force he had never experienced before.It
wasn't a request. It wasn't a plea. It was an acknowledgment. A declaration that
he wasn't alone in that rise.
The wind seemed to respond with a soft whisper that barely lifted the edges of his
shirt.
Efraín continued on.
The moon began to peek through the clouds, illuminating the path with a pale light
that made the damp grass glisten. It was then that he heard something that stopped
him.her heart for a moment.
A song.
Very
distant.
Very faint.
I couldn't make out words, but I could feel the harmony. An ancient, sweet, profound
melody that vibrated in the air like a forgotten memory.
She was not human.Or at least it didn't sound like the voices I knew.
She possessed a purity I had only ever heard of during certain moments of prayer,
whenThe spirit seemed to touch the soul in an almost tangible way.
Efraín moved forward guided by that melody, increasingly drawn towards its
origin.But suddenly, the singing stopped.
Silence returned.
And the entire hill seemed to hold its breath.Efraín
also stopped.
That's when he heard something else. A
footstep.
Behind him.
He turned around immediately, but saw no one. Only
fog.Another step.
Nearest.
Efraín felt a chill run down his spine. This time it wasn't the wind. Something…
orsomeone… was there.
"Who's there?" he asked in a firm voice, although his heart was beating
strongly.Silence answered.
Then, a figure slowly emerged from the mist. Tall. Slender. Wearing a white robe
that barely gleamed in the moonlight. Her face was hidden; the mist obscured it.like
a veil. But it didn't radiate threat. On the contrary. There was a different kind of
calm in its presence, a gentle authority.
Efraín didn't know whether to retreat or
advance.The figure spoke first.
—Do not be afraid.
The voice was deep and calm. It didn't sound human, but neither did it sound
supernatural.in a disturbing way. It was a voice that carried peace."They've been calling you," the figure continued. "And you answered. That's what
brought you here."
Efraín drinksaliva.
-Who are you?
The figure did not respond immediately. It took a few more steps closer, but its face
remained hidden.
—I am a messenger —he finally said—. A guardian of the path.
Efraín felt a shudder.
A messenger?
A guardian?
The very idea seemed impossible… and yet, everything I had experienced in the
In the last few days, he was preparing himself for that possibility.
"Why are you calling me?" she asked in a whisper.
The figure tilted its head, as if it were measuring its heart.
—Because light needs willing hearts. And you… have been chosen to carry a
message. One that many have forgotten.
Efraín didn't know what to say. The words he heard seemed too big for him.
"But I'm nobody," he finally said. "I'm not a prophet. I'm not a leader. I'm just…"
The messenger raised a hand, stopping him.
—Ephraim, the Lord does not choose the prepared. He prepares the chosen.
That phrase struck him like lightning. He felt a warmth rise in his chest, as if hisThe
heart was being ignited from within.
"You must continue," the messenger added. "What you seek is higher up. But not
everything will be revealed to you today."
"What will I find?" Efraín asked.
The messenger was silent for a moment. Then he replied:
—An answer. And a burden. Both necessary.Before I could ask another question, the figure began to fade, as ifthe mist
absorbed it until it turned into vapor.
—Wait— said Ephraim. —Will I ever see you again?
The messenger replied with one last sentence before disappearing completely:
—When your faith allows
it.And he left.
He just left.
Efraín was left alone on the path, trembling with a mixture of fear, amazement,
and an inexplicable hope that beat strongly within him. He took a deep breath
and looked up.
There was still a long way to go.
The rest of the climb felt different. Lighter. Clearer. As if the encounter had
opened something inside him that allowed him to move forward with renewed
strength.
Finally, after a stretch whose duration he couldn't tell, the fog completely
dissipated. The hilltop appeared before him as a circle illuminated by themoon,
surrounded by ancient trees that seemed to guard the place since ancient times.
In the center, there was something that took his breath away.
A huge, smooth rock, a brilliant white that was unusual for the area. It wasn't
aCommon stone. It looked almost sculpted. Carved. Holy.
Efraín approached slowly.
When he placed his hand on the cold surface of the rock, he felt a
pulse.A heartbeat.
As if that stone had a heart.And then
he heard it.
A voice.
Very soft.Deep inside.
—Efraín… are you ready?
He remained motionless.
His breathing became heavy.
I knew that voice was not an echo, nor a dream, nor an
illusion.It was him.
Or at least, His guidance.
"Yes," he replied in a whisper, but with a resolute heart. "I am willing." The
rock gleamed for a moment.
Then, everything went silent.
And Efraín knew that his life had changed forever.