Emil knew he was in a dream. All of his thoughts were words being spoken to him in his own voice. He was fully self-aware, but not in control enough for the dream to be considered lucid.

He was standing at the foot of a grassy hill at twillight. He wondered, what does this mean? He never had a dream like this before. As he started moving up the hill, he realized he was floating, not walking. He could not see his own body; it was his spirit which was moving without a vessel.

Before he reached the top of the hill, there was a flash of light which blinded him for just a fraction of a second. Then, before him was a crucified man wearing a crown of thorns. His face was covered in blood, making his features indistinguishable.

"Why am I here?" Emil asked.

The crucified man's face began to twist and distort until it became clear who the man was—Gustav Silber.

Gustav said, "I died for you, Emil. Would you die for me?"

Emil was both horrified and offended. "Who do you think you are?"

"Don't you know who I am?"

"You always answer questions with questions, Gustav. I've had enough of it."

Gustav's face morphed back into a bloody disfigured mask. Everything was quiet, completely still; there was not even a slight breeze to make the world around him feel terrestrial. This made the sight of crucifixion even more disturbing to Emil. He wanted to shout, thinking he could wake himself up this way, but he was mute.

Emil's father's voice spoke to him, "I just wanted the best for you, my son."

Emil could tell it was his father's voice. He had not heard it in many years, but it was a distinct masculine voice which played in Emil's mind every day since he was a young boy. However, when Emil turned around to face the man who called him son, he saw it was not his father.

"I've seen you somewhere before," Emil said, finding his ability to speak once again.

The man was husky, dressed in black, wavy brown hair—Emil was certain he had seen a man who looked just like this, but could not recall where.

"You wish to be a man of science, Emil? Why not be a man of God?"

"Who is God?" Emil asked.

"You have the answer already. You learned it from me, young man."

Emil realized who this man was. It was Martin Luther, the German theologist who defied the Catholic church. He was the man who founded the first protestant denomination. He was the man who Emil once looked up to for his tenacity, long before Gustav Silber was even an acquaintence of his.

"Why did you call me your son?"

Martin Luther frowned. "In another life, I would have been proud to call you my son."

"I don't see how that affects me where I am now."

"You chose this. It is your weltanschauung."

"My father used to tell me something like that . . . the way we see the world is a reflection of our own weltanschauung. But Herr Silber told me it is impossible, and to be an astronomer I must seek out the objective truths of the universe."

Luther nodded. "This Silber you speak of is not God, I can assure you. He is a fraud."

"But what of his abilities, these powers of his? He is the closest thing to a god I have seen with my own eyes," Emil contested. "That is what I cannot refute."

Luther's demeanor suddenly became darker as if a shadow was cast over him. "His powers are of the devil, Emil. Do not believe his lies. Gustav Silber is a Jew. He lies to you, as all Jews do. I was betrayed by them, Jesus was betrayed by them, and you will be victimized as well if you trust them."

"The Silbers are like family to me. I will not hold any prejudice against them for such things."

"You will learn the hard way." This was the last thing Martin Luther said to Emil before vanishing instantaneously.

Emil turned around and looked closely at the crucified body. Throughout Emil's childhood, the story of Christ's crucifixion was told to him. The Jews did this, he was told, but it was God's plan for it to happen anyway. Despite Martin Luther's own anti-semitism which was apparent in his written works, Emil's upbringing in the Lutheran church never demonstrated any resentment toward Jews.

The bloody face of the crucified man morphed into Gustav Silber again. "We were all created in His image, Emil Weiss. Jews and Christians believe this, yes? It is common ground between them."

"Doesn't make it true," Emil debated.

"Camilla and Paula see you as their pillar of strength. Will you choose to love them, Emil? Or will they be scorned?" Gustav said, speaking with no emotion. "Can you love a Jewish family? Your perseverance will be put to test. Will you be a man of moral conviction and diligence, or will the pressure be too great for you to remain a solid foundation?"

"You keep asking me questions! I don't know the answers to any of them. I don't even know what I am doing. I . . . I don't even know if I have the will to keep living in a world like this."

"Do not fear, Emil. I have faith in you."

Emil, astronished, could say nothing more. There was a flash of light which surrounded him and sucked him in, and he could feel himself falling freely for what felt like eternity.

He woke up in a cold sweat, his heart beating relentlessly like a hammer against iron. He was back in the guest bedroom of the Silber residence, the sound of crickets chirping outside and a somber darkness which his sight slowly adjusted to.

.✪.

The second dream of that night was one Emil had before, many times—a reccuring dream which mirrored a real life event. He would always remember the dream in its entirety when he woke up, but while he was in it he was never aware he was dreaming. No matter how many times he had it before, it always was a brand new experience in the moment.

"You're a smart young man, Emil," his mother said to him. It was the same dialogue every time. "Your family is very proud of you. We want you to succeed and we will support your decision. Do not worry about us."

She was sitting in a wooden chair in the kitchen of the Weiss residence in Berlin. The chair was by a window which provided a view of a perfectly clear blue sky. Suffering from paraplegia since Emil's infancy, Emil's mother spent every day of her life in this one particular spot.

Emil's uncle on his mother's side, Walter Ziegler, stood beside her in the dream, and would say, "Hilda, your optimism is truly inspiring to all of us. Emil, please remember we will always be here for you. No matter how far away you may be, we will be right here thinking of you and wishing you well."

Every time, after Uncle Walter would say that, Emil woke from the dream feeling heavy-hearted, homesick, and regretful. This time, Emil felt exhilarated knowing he soon would be returning to Berlin. Regardless of what adversity he would have to face there, he would have a loving mother and uncle who would welcome him back with open arms.

He would be introducing Camilla to them, too. Things could change for the better. Yet, he felt unsettled by the ominous first dream. Looking deep inside himself for strength, Emil told himself he must be optimistic. It is what his dear mother Hilda Weiss had taught him to do. He drifted back to sleep, peacefully, knowing there was a positive influence within him that could never be lost.