For the elderly man sitting on the bench, his black formal attire appeared to have a darker, somber tone to it. For one to gaze upon him, they would think that he was attending the funeral of a loved one. It seemed his presence would be more at home on the front pew of a church, one of many mourners attending such a solemn occasion. Like Michael, the elderly man’s hair was worn at shoulder length, although his own was a pure, snow-white coloration. Unlike Michael with his clean-shaven features, the elderly man had a short cut, thick white beard covering most of his face. Dark brown eyes seemed to stare out into oblivion. The world around him was the last thing on his mind.

Tears welled up on the lower rim of his eyes, many having already streamed down his cheek disappearing into his beard. Leaning forward, the elder man rested his elbows on his thighs, his hands clasped together. He closed his eyes for a moment, the tears dropping down to splash against his interlaced fingers. A near whisper emanated from his throat, “If only there was another way.” A deep shudder shook the man’s body before he took in a ragged breath, fighting the sorrow filling his heart. “Open the first seal.”

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