Light's Embrace

Light pours in though the intricate stained glass windows. As it flows thru the tinted pains, it takes on marvelous colors. A constant stream of reds, yellow, and blues splashes down and collides with the cold stone floor. Suddenly, the heavy, carved wooden door to the old church bursts open. From outside, terrible sounds of a brutal war rush in and echo loudly. A young girl stumbles in and quickly shuts the door behind her, sealing out the earsplitting explosions of artillery and the screams of the dying. With the door closed, all is quiet again. The girl staggers forward a few steps and collapses to a crumpled heap. Haggard from the dark war, she is too exhausted to even stand, let alone continue to fight.
Her clothes are tattered and stained with dry blood. Her cloak is a fayed remnant, no longer able to protect her or to seal her in. As she lay there on the cold, marble floor, the warm light continues to cascade in thru the windows above. All is silent but for the quiet splatter of tears shattering on the floor. Thick walls armor this place from the brutality of war. She finally drops her guard and begins to weep, for here she is finally secure enough to release the pain held so deep within her. The colorful light graces her trembling form.
Ever so quietly, a figure emerges from the shower of light and goes to her. It reaches down and, very gently, picks her up. Tenderly, it wipes her tears away and warms her cold body in its warm embrace. She is revived from the harsh grip of numbness, she begins to feel. Now alive with such sharp, burning pain, she writhes against its tenderness. With her fading strength, she struggles against the being who holds her close because it made her alive enough to feel the pain. Now that her skin is thawed enough, old wounds break open and black blood begins to ooze out. The stench of her sores is almost overwhelming. Her dirty, matted hair clings to her sweaty face. She is covered in soot and filth. In several places are large blisters from burns.
The figure still refuses to let go of her even though she is getting puss, filth, and blood on it. She succumbs to complete exhaustion and becomes limp in its arms. Helpless to fight against it, she waits for it to attack her. It does not. Afraid and tired she just lies there, unable to move. But the figure still does not attack.
Eventually the girl relaxes. The light continues to stream in through the window and washes her in its warmth, covering her soars and making her beautiful. The figure reaches out and touches her wounds. She tries to scream in pain, but is too tired to make a sound. It gently disinfects her sores and washes away the puss.  
Drained of all energy, she slips into a deep slumber. It tenderly holds her while she rests peacefully. It gives her a safe place to rest from the raging war. It helps to her to heal. It enables her to continue on....