❧ Chapter 3 ❧

Rise of the Church

“No! No! You’re forgetting your feet completely!” Harrow thrust the makeshift sword at her feet. “You need to move them, but not at the same time. If you back up, throw one foot back first, so you don’t trip on something.” He sighed, demonstrating.

After a year of strength training, which involved helping build the house and outlying buildings, Harrow had then taught Kɧylin how to make a sword, arrow heads, axes, and a number of other small weapons. Finally, almost two years after the cottage had burned down, he was teaching her actual sword fighting. Kɧylin sometimes wished he wouldn’t. Now was one of those times.

“Again.” He took up a fighting position. “Sword at the ready.”

“I already know how to hunt by bow! Why do I need to know how to fight with a sword?” Kɧylin asked, sword still hanging loosely at her side.

“Because what if something catches you unawares? Sneaks up on you? Avoids your arrows and charges you?” They’d had this argument a thousand times; it was Kɧylin’s way of stalling when she was fed up with being criticized for her technique.

“Then I hit them with a fireball and run!” she retaliated.

“Magic isn’t always the answer!” Harrow growled.

This was normally the point that Kɧylin stormed off, and stayed mad at Harrow for a few hours, until Felicity talked some sense into her. This time, Felicity came in early, coming out of the house when she heard the raised voices. She sat daintily on a log that sat in the yard.

“Kɧylin, magic has its advantages, but sometimes brute force is necessary.” This was an odd piece of advice coming from her mother, always the peacemaker. Kɧylin just sighed and shook her head. Felicity’s sigh echoed her daughters. “You don’t know the world yet. You know only us and the animals. No one has tried to hurt you. It’s different than an animal; they hurt you because they see you as a threat, or a source of food. Some people…they hurt you because they can, and because they are told to, or even because they want to. It’s not because it is good, or right. Like the Church soldiers. They are told, by the Church, to do terrible things. It doesn’t necessarily mean they want to, but because they have orders to follow. People are also smarter than animals. They find ways to trick you.”

Kɧylin frowned, crossing her arms, looking away from her parents. After a moment of silent consideration, she spoke.

“Was the Church always in charge, mama?” she asked.

“No…” Felicity drew out the word, glancing at Harrow, who shrugged. “I guess I never told you how the Church came to be.” She readjusted on the edge of the log, crossing her hands in her lap. Kɧylin prepared for a long story, and sat down.

“Galaduin used to be a free Empire. The six kingdoms, now only known as the six provinces of Galaduin, used to be ruled by noble families, one line of rulers descending from the next. Some were…kinder than others, some were ruthless. While there were wars between the Kingdoms, they were few and far between, often the solution found through some marriage alliance or trading contract between the warring kingdoms. And the country prospered under this method of ruling.

“At this time, there were no feran in Galaduin. There were dwarves, elves, giants, trolls—”

“And haffa.” Harrow said with a grin. Felicity chuckled.

“And haffa. But no feran. Five hundred years ago, the feran island of Iyxfrin was destroyed—”

“By the Great Storms, I remember that story. There were a series of earthquakes and tidal waves and fires and a volcano that wiped out the island. You told me how the feran came to Galaduin in droves, packed onto boats. And they were at war with the Galaduinians for fifty years. Until a marriage?” Kɧylin furrowed her brow, trying to remember the history lesson.

“Yes, until the Alaborian crown Prince, Bryce, snuck into the feran lines and struck a peace with the clan leaders. It only worked because he married the strongest clan’s leader’s daughter, Hexylɧ. At that point, the rest of the people had to accept the feran. That was the beginning of the new Empire. It was like a rebirth of the land. Everyone started counting it as the First Year. Everything that came after was referred to as ppa; Post Peace of Alabor.

“Accepting the feran was hardest for the humans, since they’d held power in the land longest, but they adapted. After that came the One Hundred Years Peace…well, it was one hundred years of relative peace. Just as the six kingdoms had fights among themselves, there were disputes as the feran delved further into the land. Feran and humans, however, are the most alike, of all the races. The most compatible when it comes to reproduction; mixing races made them both stronger.” Kɧylin’s cheeks grew warm; talk of reproduction still made her blush, even though her mother had given her a talk two years ago when she’d become a woman, and her woman’s blood had begun.

“Well, the feran and humans started settling villages, together striking up alliances with certain clans. Some humans were inducted into feran clans, some feran left their clans to start living like humans. What encouraged this the most was the birth of Bryce’s and Hexylɧ’s daughter, Kɧylin.” Kɧylin’s heart swelled with pride at the mention of her namesake. Kɧylin the First had been the first mixed blood ruler. Most royal families after Kɧylin the First’ birth had at least some feran-blood in the lineage.

Kɧylin the First had ruled Alabor for many years after her parent’s deaths, earning great respect from many of the other royal families. There were a lot of stories about her facing grand monsters and leading her army into battles, to protect her people. Kɧylin loved the stories of Kɧylin the First.

Felicity continued her history of the Church.

“Kɧylin’s aunt, who was the leader of the feran clan Yonoz, set up a village west of Heilbrooke. The royal family of Heilbrooke was wary at first, but quickly the clan grew to be a strong ally of Heilbrooke. Yonoz is still a powerful city today, though most of the feran have moved elsewhere.”

“Yes, but what about the Church?” Kɧylin pressed. Once onto a subject, her mother could be distracted by other historical tidbits, going off into tangents that turned out to be completely unrelated to the subject matter at hand. While it was fascinating, it often meant Kɧylin had to press her mother and remind her things, such as that they were learning about the Last Dragon, not the best way to make spicy cornbread.

“Yes, I know, I know. But feran history is…significant.” She made a face, biting the inside of her lip while staring at her daughter, as if contemplating something, but Harrow shook his head behind Kɧylin’s back. Felicity continued. “After the One Hundred Years Peace, a lot of religions started taking root.

“Almost all the races have their own belief system. Some have adopted the views of others. The haffa, for example, believe that there is a great Cat goddess named Sera, who presides over the past, present and future, and gives her people, those blessed with Sight, visions of the future. One of the oldest beliefs, from long before we started counting years, was that there was one father god, Galador. He was also known as the Father of Time, and had many offspring with Tara’Maiy, Mother of Land, each of their children different and each one in charge of something in Galador’s realm. For example, they had a dwarf son, Gollo, was in charge of rocks and mountains, and so on, and so forth. It was also believed, by the Old Galador Church, that every creature was created by Galador and his children. This was the longest held belief in Galaduin. Some races still hold this believe today, but with their own twists. Even the feran, when they came, supported it, for the most part. Some still believed in their gods. The Old Galador Church was accepting. Welcoming. They stated that all beliefs were true, all sides of the same coin. Or, in this case, maybe a multifaceted stone.

“But then, in 100ppa, there was a crisis of faith. There were so many belief systems being established, many arguments started. There was a risk of another great war, which is now referred to as the Near War. That was when the New Church of Galador began.

“It started out the same as the Old Galador Church except they said there was only one God; Galador. He made all living creatures, all the lands and seas. He had no children, and he was a shapeshifter; he looked like every creature. Those who ‘saw’ him would see their own race reflected back to them, but as the most perfect and flawless of their kind.

“Something about this new belief struck a chord in a way no other belief system did. Small settems dedicated to the New Church of Galador started popping up everywhere. And then, an official of the Church, a man named Eccuret Luka, claimed that Galador spoke to him. He was immediately promoted, or whatever they call it in the Church—raised, that’s it—to be High Eccuret. They set up a place for him in Heilbrooke, so he could act as a direct link from Galador to Heilbrooke, which was and remains to this day, the capital of Galaduin.

“Well, High Eccuret Luka grew old, and in 150ppa, fifty years after the birth of the New Church of Galador, he assigned a successor; Eccuret Choyel. People were wary of him, for good reason. He was a mage, and had strange new ideas that many people found disturbing and radical. But Luka chose him for his ability to bring a new light to a situation. About a decade after Luka died, a disease started spreading like wildfire. No one was safe; not royals, nor peasants, not any single race, though it affected the elves less. It killed hundreds of thousands of people in a matter of months. Eccuret Choyel says it is because of a lack of faith in Galador. People start converting and, lo and behold, they start getting better—”

“So it was a plague sent by Galador?” Kɧylin asks. Felicity made a face.

“That part is still very unclear. Some people say it was, in part, created by Galador, some say that Choyel used dark magic as a way to achieve his ends. Regardless, he used it as a tool to convert more people. So, the population stopped dropping like flies, and most people had converted to the New Church of Galador, which now just goes by The Church of Galador.

“This is a fine arrangement for the next hundred years or so; Choyel appoints another successor, High Eccuretess Linet, who is followed by another woman, High Eccuretess Gilina. Nothing else…suspicious arises, no more mysterious diseases that only the Eccurets and Eccuretesses can cure.

“Over those hundred years, the Church starts weaving its way into the noble’s back pockets, becoming royal advisors. Which would be fine, but they have their own agenda and report directly back to High Eccuretesses Linet and Gilina, who have their own goals, separate from the people.

“Shortly after Linet takes power, the Church starts asking—humbly—for donations, money from the people to support the growing religion, to build new settems and demas, make old ones new again, and to feed their representatives of the Church. People start paying up, small donations to be blessed, to be cleansed, to gain access to the settems and demas…the Church rakes it all in. It’s only small coin at first, coppers and silvers, but slowly, they start raising the prices, taxing people—on Royal orders, they claim—greater sums. And while it’s possible that the royal families did allow the prices to be raised, it was unlikely that they were aware how much the Church was really taking in. Rumours start spreading that the Royal families are forcing the Church to tax the people, and that the Church is forced to pay them large sums of what they take in. The disposition of the people starts souring towards the royal families, whether they were good rulers or no.

“Peasants end up broke, selling everything they have to survive. People end up going so far as to sell themselves as indentured servants, so that their children and spouses can remain free and survive. All that happens is the families are separated, still moneyless, and end up living as slaves—because that is truly all they are—somewhere else.” Felicity scowled, her sharp eye teeth showing in a grimace. Harrow grasped her leg, and she relaxes.

“The Church starts taking over. Royal families, their bloodlines already weakened from the disease that killed nearly a quarter of the population a century before are being harassed by the common folk. While their advisors, the representatives from the Church, are trying to ‘help’ them, the Church has criers planted within the people, creating unrest and discord, asking why they, the commoners, are going broke paying for the Church, while the royals sit high on their thrones, living the good life, profiting from the Church. Well, it isn’t long before the people cry out for the abolishment of the royal families, demanding that they be stripped of money, titles and put into exile.

“The Church ‘intervenes.’ They say that those families who are loyal to the Church, loyal to Galador, will hand their estates, their wealth, and their power, everything, to the Church. Many comply, simply so they are not torn apart by commoners. But once they hand off their power to the Church, once all the royal families are either penniless noble-name holders or exiled, chased from their homes by the very people they’d ruled for hundreds if not thousands of years…the Church declares that anyone who supports the Old Empire as an enemy, as traitors. All the nobles…they are traitors against the Church because of the bloodlines they were born into. Those who have not been exiled are forced to repent their names, renounce the Old Empire, and their bloodlines…or be executed.

“That was in 325ppa, 125 years ago. By that point, most of the royals were wondering how the Church had gotten their fingers into the affairs of the kingdom. That was when the Resistance really came into being, gaining a lot of support from the exiled Royal families, and those who hadn’t sworn loyalty to the Church. They went into hiding, relying on the Resistance for protection.

“Then, fifty years ago, a man named High Eccuret Drew became the High Eccuret of the Church, and declared war on the Resistance and anyone tied to it. Now the Resistance, the biggest and only threat to the Church and its total domination of Galaduin is being turned against by the very people they are trying to protect.” Felicity ends with a note of finality so abrupt, Kɧylin’s eyebrows come together.

“But wait. The Resistance. What happened to them? Didn’t they fight back?”

Felicity shrugged. “They lost a lot of footing in Galaduin. They were almost completely wiped out eighteen years ago from their stronghold in Ballah, the dwarf tunnels, and moved to Sotho to amass their forces. According to rumour.” Felicity stood from the log, brushing dirt from her dress. Kɧylin stood, wanting to ask more questions. Instead, she found herself blurting “I want to join them.” Harrow scoffed.

“You refuse to learn to fight, and yet you want to join a movement which, more than anything, needs able warriors? Think, girl.”

Kɧylin frowned, then nodded. “I see, now.” Felicity smiled.

“Good. Then pick up that sword, and let your father teach you to fight.”