Shrouded Piety: Order of Yaktosh - Prologue

**| > Chapter 1**

In the final years of the 4th century, the Roman Empire finally folds to the growing presence of Christianity, despite the declining condition of the empire itself. With this quick and major turn of events, a local chief in the Crimean peninsula going by Great King Goltz-Plut seeks to protect the independence of the Crimean Goths by establishing themselves as a Christianized people, thus avoiding any potential Roman invasion due to a common faith. To help officialize this, Goltz-Plut welcomes the arrival of three bishops from the Roman Empire to supervise the conversion process. Here, they are informed of Suri, an immortal woman who carries centuries of knowledge on the Goths, as well as an unnatural ability to heal wounds with nothing but water and supposed magic. Suri, unlike many within the kingdom, has decided to go a unique path of not fully committing to conversion, instead embracing some aspects of Christianity, while maintaining other aspects of her old Baphometic faith. A natural leader, many in Crimea follow in her footsteps and, too, stand as 'half-converts' in a Christianizing land. The three bishops thus charge themselves with the task of correcting Suri's theological misconceptions, but in their initial interview of the woman, are dumbfounded by what they learn, and as a result, are split on how to handle Suri...

## Chapter Reading

== Prologue =

Amidst a canvas of white sky above, and steady ocean below, a black stork skid across a field of water and left waves in its past. From this action, a number of ducks took evasive action toward the shore, and from this action, several pelicans fled from their position. Throughout this chain reaction, a lone ibis remained still, staring intensely at the single non-avian on the shore—a young woman whose skin was so pale and translucent that the veins of her wrists could be seen from an extensive distance.

The woman was barefoot but cloaked in brown pelt, and for pants much of the same. Under her hood were very focused and unnatural pink eyes of someone who has seen much and therefore knew much. Her gaze was in the direction of the similarly focused ibis bird, yet also on the tiny tribal drum she performed a rhythm on between her legs. Each beat of the drum varied in strength, but it was the occasional violent beat that would at times frighten the otherwise peaceful birds that coexisted with her.

She played her music with deep thoughts but peace of her own desire, and only the ibis would give her the trusting attention and time of day. This animal-to-human interaction would soon cease, however, for the ibis would then open its wings and fly off like so many others.

A heavy foot in the sand succeeded the passing of the ibis, and it would for a moment pause her drumming. She soon resumed, as if recognizing the footstep from sound alone as of a friendly nature.

“Suri.”

The man behind the woman was not much for height, but he commanded a body worthy of fear and a beard so massive that it seemingly stood in for a neck. He awaited a returned greeting from the woman known as *Suri*.

Suri’s eyes remained as they had been for so long, only now the ibis was not present.

“That ship exhibits the Roman banner,” she reported.

Indeed, the object of her intense stare had not been the ibis before her, but an approaching ship from the south carrying the flag of the Roman Empire. Suri’s report was followed by more drumming.

“I have been beckoning Baphomet to strike down that ship if their hearts are with destructive intent; Christ to heal their sick onboard, if otherwise.” Suri stopped drumming to turn her torso and look up at the man with fearing eyes. “The skies have become grayer since I prayed. Baphomet may be ready to smite the Romans by the lightning of Crimea.”

The man silently snickered, prompting the woman to squint at him with frustration. He then advanced himself to force down her hood, revealing Suri’s hair of silver, and a face of no eyebrows.

“Be at peace, Suri. There is no danger within that ship.”

Suri shook at him, “The Romans and ‘danger’ are two of an inseparable marriage, Great King.” She held two palms out, narrating with hand gestures, “Where there are burning villages and crucifixions, there are often Romans in the vicinity. Where there are Romans, there are burned villages and crucifixions nearby.”

He approached her side and revealed, “Aboard that ship are not Roman soldiers, but bishops on a holy mission here to Crimea.”

Suri gawked, “Aa—ah…” Then with a moment of thought, she puckered her lips and said, “Mm—m, no, nope, Crimea is in no need of Zeus, we have already been saved by the Lord Jesus, and protected by Baphomet, of course.”

“They are not of the old Roman faith—they are *Christian* missionaries.”

This claim left Suri glaring for a moment in disbelief, “Roman *Christian* missionaries?” Immediately riled up, Suri jumped to the tip of her toes and lectured, “King Goltz-Plut, why ever would we trust men of Rome to teach us about Christ? The Romans killed Christ!”

Goltz-Plut placed a hand over Suri’s shoulder, “People change. It has been hundreds of years since the Lord was crucified, and all those years later the people of Rome have begun to recognize this.” The king then turned to the approaching vessel and added, “The Goths of Crimea have found Christ and so have the Romans.”

Suri crossed her arms and retorted, “Great King, as smart of a leader as you are, take this from experience, from someone who has heard, seen, and touched for *hundreds of years*.” The woman brought out from under her cloak of a stunning gold necklace, styled as a star frame being penetrated diagonally by a spear. “For hundreds of years, I have witnessed the maniacal ways of the Roman Empire. Caesar worships the State before gods, morality, or even integrity. If there is a means of conquering a land, by sword, by threat, or by trickery, he will seize the opportunity. This has been the nature of Rome for as far back as my immortal mind can remember.”

“There is little some Christian missionaries can do that has not already taken place in the Crimea.” He waved back at the village behind them. “We are already a growing community of Christians. I allowed these men here merely to confirm that the Goths of Crimea have accepted God as their children.”

Suri’s eyes widened, “You *invited* them here!?”

“We are hosting a feast in their honor, and I wish you to attend.”

“You’re hosting a feast for them!?”

“Suri, listen,” Goltz-Plut imposed a finger close to her forehead, “Regardless of your feelings for Rome, I expect you to treat these men with the utmost courtesy.”

He departed alongside her, to which an irked Suri answered, “My courtesy to them is guaranteed, it’s my trust they will struggle to earn.”

A time later, King Goltz-Plut, Suri, two Gothic warriors, and the king’s advisor would venture to the village outskirt and walk upon this beach, where the Roman ship eventually docked. Suri had the most mistrusting of the gazes as three robed men exited from the ship; they were without any protection and made haste to approach the group of Goths.

Suri muttered through tense teeth, “They look nice.”

Goltz-Plut said back to her, “Courtesy.”

Given a moment of silence, Suri shouted very loudly, “Hello!”

Goltz-Plut slapped her bicep, “And practice civility.”

Beyond this exchange, Suri would silence herself and take a backseat in the greeting party. King Goltz-Plut took charge of the scene as the bishops came within speaking range.

“Welcome to holy Crimea, fathers.”

The bishop in the center of the three was the most iconic looking, as he was vastly more muscular, bald, and with a jaw that came down to a strong point. His idle pose was one of a disciplined background.

“Greetings, Chief Goltz-Plut. Allow me to introduce my mission,” he shook Goltz-Plut’s hand and then said, “I am Father Sixtus, along with Father Modestus and Pius.”

Modestus had the appearance of a more common clergyman and had the haircut often associated with monks. Pius was a rather bloated sort, likely supported by his shorter stature. Visually, the three would appear to have radically different backgrounds.

The king bowed, “We are humbled.”

“Now,” Sixtus rushed, “If you may, we would like to witness this supposedly Christianized community firsthand.”

Goltz-Plut waved backwards, “First, we have prepared a feast to honor your arrival.”

Sixtus winced, “That will not be necessary. We are working diligently by God’s schedule.”

This rejection was quickly contradicted by Modestus, “Actually, much of the food onboard the ship tragically went rot, and replenishing ourselves would do us well.”

Sixtus glared at Modestus, “Not all of the food -”

Pius intervened, “I agree, we can discuss our mission over food.”

The objecting bishop was left with a twitch in his eye, “Unfortunately, to complicate matters, we have been dispatched here as a *team* and are instructed to take decisions… through a nature of democracy…” Sixtus reluctantly nodded at Goltz-Plut, “So be it.”

“All right, men!” Goltz-Plut shouted to his own, “We eat and drink to the glory of God!”

Within the heart of the village, the three bishops were thrown a minor feast—only containing them, King Goltz-Plut, and several of his personally invited guests. The building had few windows but many flames to keep the interior glowing, and because of the light from these flames, the shadows of the female dancers were especially animated. Indeed, the feast was one of special quality by Crimean Goth standards, but very little consideration was put toward the type of characters it was designed for. For three holy men so close to God, this feast was overflowing with disastrous content.

Father Pius looked around the room in shock, Modestus with a look of sharp frustration, and Sixtus with burrowed brows of contempt. This supposedly Christianized society jumped right into their feast without a word of favor towards God, alcohol ran through the blood of just about every man and woman in the room, and the entertainment was dancing in shameless nudity in a variety of styles meant to arouse. Even the bishops were presented with the largest of alcoholic beverages.

The bishops, alone with the king, were finally caught by his cautious gaze, “I hope this surprise feast has not unnerved you.”

Sixtus narrowed his eyes, “This feast bears every nature of a Lucifer design.”

Goltz-Plut tilted his head, “Huh?”

Pius reacted more loudly, “These women are entertaining with the utmost implications of lust! All are shamelessly without even the simplest of cloth to their skin!”

While trying to control offense, Goltz-Plut still retorted, “It is traditional entertainment.”

“It is uncontrolled, raging sin!” Pius shouted.

Sixtus raised a brow, “Seemingly, the mark of unwanted pagan barbarism.”

Goltz-Plut turned his attention to the quietest of the three. Modestus merely affirmed what they were saying with a nod.

“We meant no offense,” the king explained. “I implore God’s forgiveness.”

“With, all respect,” Sixtus sighed, “We are wasting time with these festivities. I, for one, would like to hear about your conversion efforts.”

The king crossed his arms and chuckled, “I’ve looked into it recently, and can proudly report that the majority of our people accept the Lord into their hearts.”

Modestus inquired, “Majority, as in to say, nearly everyone?”

Goltz-Plut opened his mouth to respond, but then retracted himself with a look of discomfort. This raised the intensity of Sixtus’ stare, sensing blood in the water. The king thought about this in silence for a few seconds.

“An… overwhelming mass majority, of over nine hundred-some Goths swear themselves to God the creator and the Lord, Jesus Christ.” He delivered this with energy, almost standing, but following this he would ease himself in his seat with far less energy. “By contrast, a stubborn two hundred or less continue to stick to the old ways of Baphomet.”

Modestus questioned, “Baphomet?”

Sixtus insisted to his partner, “Lucifer, wearing a mask.”

Eager to get away from statistics, Goltz-Plut explained, “Baphomet is the creator god of our people’s old faith, said to have been born by the natural elements of the earth, and therefore king of said elements.”

Following some tense silence, Modestus spoke, “Well, the disturbance in your tone is hardly warranted. A hundred stubborn pagans against a thousand Christians merely calls for some simple argumentative correction.”

Sixtus, however, insisted harshly, “They should be burned for defying God, not accommodated, Modestus.”

Modestus flexed his fingers over his chair, giving Sixtus a moment of silent glaring. “Perhaps burning the miseducated as a first and final answer was appropriate during your days as a legionary,” Sixtus squinted into Modestus’ soul, “But as God’s entrusted teachers on Earth, I suggest we first try and win the argument, before resorting to such primal nature.”

The muscular bishop took visible exception to this, “You credit yourself too much flattery, my friend. My past as a legionary simply served a purpose of installing the discipline and rationale needed to serve God fully.” He flapped a hand in Modestus’ way. “Two hundred Luciferians do nothing but open two hundred doors to corruption.” He followed this by showing math with fingers. “For every eleven people, only two go against God. Remove just those two, and little changes for the remaining nine.”

Modestus sneered, “Correct their thinking, and all eleven may remain.”

Finally, an angry Sixtus looked to Pius and asked, “Ultimately, our back-and-forth bickering means little, when it is Pius who must cast the deciding judgment.”

The group of men all delivered their heavy eyes onto the bloated bishop. He was allowed patience to meditate on the matter, but not too long into doing so opened his eyes with an answer.

“I do not believe harm should be brought to the stubborn ones.”

Father Modestus had won this battle. To further cement his victory, he added, “If a considerable portion of your chiefdom has not yet seen the light, then this is evidence that we must yet champion the argument of God upon them—peacefully.”

Sixtus looked up to Goltz-Plut and commented, “I reluctantly sanction the decision of the majority. Let us hope the prolonged existence of these misguided Luciferians does not prompt a Roman invasion…”

The thinly veiled threat left Goltz-Plut clutching at his chair with clear anger. Modestus, now seizing somewhat of a leading role in the group, sat himself up with greater posture.

“Now, that our first action should be to identify anyone who is willing to convert to Christianity but needs us to guide them directly into the church. This will leave us with the hardline followers of this Baphomet, who -”

Though it pained him to do so, King Goltz-Plut interrupted the bishop, “A- Actually, Father, these followers of Baphomet are not the truest issue facing Crimea’s conversion. I am with shame admitting there is a more complicated matter I need your help with.”

He had the concentration of the three bishops, Modestus asking, “Whatever might the problem be?”

Goltz-Plut sighed, “Two hundred-some of the old Baphomitic faith… but *five* hundred-some half-converts.”

“Half-converts,” Modestus repeated.

Sixtus winced with passion, “Half-converts? What do you mean by ‘half?’”

The king explained, “The old faith as a whole has been on the decline for years now, but many have been led astray in the process of conversion. There are many among us who now choose to worship *both* Christ and Baphomet.”

Pius shook, “That is impossible.”

Sixtus agreed, “There is no god but God.”

Modestus, joining in on the reaction, asked the obvious, “How do so many of your people confuse the simply defined rule of there being *one* God in Heaven?”

“Again, they have been led astray—inspired down the half-convert path.”

The bulking muscular bishop demanded, “How?”

This king would go on to initially confuse the three with a word—or name—they were not familiar with, “Suri.”

He proceeded to point a whole hand past the shoulders of these men, directing them across the room to a distracted Suri. The woman, again hooded, was seated on the ground, focusing half her attention on the erotic dancers, while placing the other half of her attention on the single drum between her legs. She minded the four men no attention and carried on in a world of her own.

After examining from a distance what appeared to be a somewhat odd, but otherwise fairly regular looking person, Modestus asked, “Who is this Suri?”

“Suri is our famous healer and historical orator. For hundreds, if not thousands of years, Suri has used her magics to heal the wounded, as well as teach the history of our people.”

The three bishops simultaneously became alert.

“Hundreds?”

“Thousands!?”

“Magic..?”

Goltz-Plut nodded, “She is immortal to age, and resurrects from the claws of death. This makes her the most qualified to speak the history of our ancestors.”

Everyone again looked over to Suri, this time for a much shorter duration, as Modestus turned to the king again and inquired, “Immortality? Here on God’s Earth?”

“Indeed so, and her magical abilities to heal flesh that has been torn—both of herself and others—has made her somewhat of a powerful figure here, which brings me to the problem at -”

Sixtus lectured, “Do not tell me you have fallen for her sock puppetry.” He flexed his neck and continued, “There is no such thing as magic. Moses was not fooled by the absurdity of Pharaoh’s magicians and neither shall we.”

Pius nodded in concurrent, “Whatever she demonstrates to your people, it is likely a magician’s trick.”

Modestus was about to chime in his agreement but grunted to the sight of Goltz-Plut’s unamused face. The king was going to stick to his guns on this matter, evident by his crossed arms and more relaxed seated position.

“I was escorted from the womb by the help of Suri’s hands, as was my father before me, and his father before him.” Modestus and Sixtus split reactions, the former raising a brow, the latter further solidifying his disapproving face. “Both my mother and father, as well as Suri, all attest to the fact that my mother nearly died delivering me into this world. Suri saved her from death by childbirth.”

For a third time, Pius and Modestus looked back to examine Suri—but Sixtus did not. While it was hard to tell from a distance, even from here it would seem evident by Suri’s figure that she was not wearing the wrinkles of age that such a story would demand of her. No one would dare outright call Goltz-Plut a liar, yet any reasoning grounded in reality would point to this explanation. Sixtus was certain that Goltz-Plut was sewing a bizarre fable for some kind of gain.

“What exactly does this Suri of yours have to do with the half-coverts?”

Goltz-Plut sighed, “Suri started this mess. She believes that Christ and Baphomet can somehow be worshipped as equal sons of God and refuses to strike Baphomet out of her theology.” The king took a drink for the first time in minutes. “The problem with this is, chiefly, that Suri inspires many people in this kingdom. There are many who would answer to her before even I, Great-King. Those she inspires the hearts of trust her implicitly, and so, follow her half-convert theology.”

Sixtus retaliated, “Then *she* must be burned so that the hearts of others are released.”

Modestus, of course, responded, “No, reason would dictate that it is Suri we must correct. If we correct Suri toward Christ and only Christ, then her followers, too, shall abandon Baphomet.”

Sixtus gave Modestus an irked look, but still looked to Pius and asked, “Do you still follow Modestus in -”

He was interrupted by Goltz-Plut, “I do not wish to see Suri harmed, but doing so would be pointless anyway, as even if she *were* burned, she would resurrect from death only days later.” The bishops minded little attention to his claims of supernaturalism. “What I in fact wish of you three is to try and educate Suri away from Baphomet for good. Just as you yourself have said, to convert Suri will be to convert her followers as well.”

“Very well, Chief, we shall play this game,” Sixtus insisted, then to Modestus said, “And we will play your way as well, or at least until our friend Pius changes his mind and sides with my more practical solution.”

Goltz-Plut still insisted, “I do not wish to see Suri harmed. She is of the utmost importance to the Goths, both as a healer and historian.”

Modestus nodded, “Then I believe we should interview Suri ourselves, to try and gain more context on her.”

“Either speak to her here and now, or approach her in her den later.”

“Den?”

“Suri operates on the wounded and ill in a specially designed practitioner den just on the western outskirt. She will often be found there on a regular basis.”

The three exchanged looks, specifically Modestus and Sixtus, who were at this point complicating their teamwork by butting heads philosophically to radical ends. Pius, in the center of it all, was left more in Modestus’ side for the time being, but the simplest upset could shift his favor toward Sixtus and result in a more zealot approach to Suri and the other non-believers. Sixtus and Modestus were now pitted against each other in a game with different approaches.

Later that day, with the festivity over and Goltz-Plut returning to administrative matters, the duty came upon the bishops of accessing Suri for information. Of a more pressing matter was simply the half-convert mission, but of a more personal curiosity to the three was Goltz-Plut’s seemingly maddening claims of supernaturalism, including immortality and resurrection. As to where to locate Suri, the answer seemed clear enough with the only non-enclosed structure in the entire village being nonetheless designed dark and wide enough to potentially act as a kind of medical center.

There inside this den, a man hissed to a stinging sensation, “Argh, is that the water or the bite killing me!?”

Suri was rubbing down a man’s calf with water, where consistent blood streamed down two adjacent bite marks. “You know, most people would see a viper snake and walk away. I live an endless life and even I’d *run* away from a snake.”

The man’s inflicted leg tumbled about the entire time, reacting from the bite in a particularly unstable manner. While Suri was able to sufficiently apply her bottle of water onto the wound, the man’s shaking did not make her work easy.

“Ga-ah!” he shouted. “Do you have to poke around in there!?”

Suri eyed up at the man and lectured, “If you want me to stop the inner bleeding, yes. Now close that mouth and stop shaking, will you?”

It was at this time the three bishops invited themselves into the den, skipping Suri’s attention but instantly distracting the patient from the operation.

“Who the hell are these men?”

Suri stuck a tongue out as she cleaned her hand and reapplied some water to the wound, “If it’s more snake bites I swear I’ll beat them unconscious…” She decided to turn her head for a moment to see, and was completely caught by surprise, “Oh.”

Modestus greeted, “Are you the one they call Suri?”

“Ga—ah!” the patient shouted, to Suri’s fright.

“Oh, you’re good enough now!” Suri complained, slapping the man off the table, “Get out of here.”

“Thanks, I guess…” he said departing.

Pius crossed his arms and said, “Well, one truth the chief told was that you are a healer of the people.”

Suri rinsed the blood off her left hand, “I may be good, but it’s a thankless job. Somehow I’ve been thanked more for my sarcasm than I have healing a torn body in seconds.”

“I’m sure,” Sixtus replied with doubting eyes.

She closed her eyes and shrugged, “But I guess I’m just whining. The truth is a lot of people respect me around here, so I can’t feel too underappreciated. I swear if one more person come’s in complaining about snakes though…” Sixtus opened his mouth to get to the point, but her rambling continued, “You see, strange as this may sound, I much prefer a severe tear in the flesh than a snake bite. A large tear leaves the person in a daze, so I can usually trust that they stay still, and applying my magic water to a wide tear is far easier than getting inside two tiny holes from a snake’s bite.”

Modestus and Pius both had been listening to her lengthy rant with great interest, but Sixtus remained still with a temper mounting. Again, he opened his mouth to speak, but to his fury, Suri rolled her hands and started to talk again.

“Don’t get me started on the poison snakes. See, a snake’s poison corrupts the general area of the bite over time, so if I don’t gain access to the wound quickly, my water treatment becomes much larger in scale in addition to still needing to heal the bite holes, which again -”

“*Shut up!*” Sixtus finally demanded.

Suri responded to this by puckering her lips and rubbing her fingers toward the ground, “Sorry, do you need me to heal something? Perhaps a thorn stuck up your…” she rolled her eyes up at him, “Mm, how can I help you, fathers from Rome?”

Modestus waved at Sixtus, “Actually, Sixtus is the closest from Rome proper. He is from Bruttium.”

The Crimean winked at this bishop and confessed, “I’m not familiar. Close to Rome?”

Sixtus reluctantly spoke for himself, “South of Rome, at the very end of Italia.”

Suri concluded with a faintly unwelcoming face, “So, more or less Roman.”

Modestus continued his self-invited introductions, “Pius here is from the Egyptian city of Alexandria, and I hail from the Greek island of Calauria.”

“All Christian?”

Sixtus glared at her, “Tell me, *are* we all Christian here?”

Suri, rather rudely, turned away from the three and gave them a rather dismissive shrug, “I am certainly Christian. Not sure how Christian one as Roman as you might be though.”

Pius gawked at the sheer boldness of this insult toward Sixtus. For once, though, this was an instance where Modestus stepped forward in defense of Sixtus.

“Come now, Suri. It’s hardly appropriate of you to question a man’s devotion to God by place of birth.”

She motioned at Sixtus with her eyes, telling Modestus, “By the sight of his muscles, he comes across to me as more of a Roman drill instructor than of a temple man.”

The bulking bishop defended his own honor, “My history as a legion soldier implies nothing of my beliefs. Even while serving the flags of Western Rome, I found myself praying to the *one* and *only* God.” His eyes came down upon Suri with the meanest of looks, “What about you, healer of Crimeans? Do you and I share the air of salvation together? Serving one and only one god?”

Suri stared at the man directly with an intentional face of disinterest, but soon a smirk would emerge as he transferred her gaze onto the other two men.

“Jesus is my savior, my Lord, and my inspiration.” She closed her eyes with the same smirk, now placing herself over the table with fresh blood over it. “It was not always that way. For the longest of days, Baphomet was the start of each day, as well as the last.” She flourished her hair and gave the three a side eye stare. “That was hundreds of years ago, and who I was hundreds of years ago, is not accurate of who I am today.”

Sixtus immediately lectured, “That speech contained meaningless words. Nothing but an attempt to escape my question!”

Yet, to some degree, it had worked on Pius, who wondered, “The chief also claimed you to be immortal—hundreds of years old,” Suri fluttered her eyes at him with the same smirk as before. “You do not appear at all old, not nearly old enough to have held your current chief in birth or heal his mother with some magic.”

“Oh, but I remember it as though it were yesterday…” the bishops did not flinch to her claim, nor to her facial expression which indicated nostalgic thought. “It was the Year of the Snake—no relevance to today—and the golden mother, while observing the birds of the shore, had begun to erupt with the coming child.” The three bishops allowed her the respect of great attention during this story. “She was laid over the father’s bedding, the skin of a red deer hiding the blood of a tragic scene. I delivered the one now known as Goltz-Plut from his mother’s womb, but just as quickly as I held the youngling, I was made to heal the mother’s birth wounds.”

Modestus, playing along, asked, “And how did you accomplish that?”

Suri winced, “…I will spare you holy fathers the exact details… but the short story is that using my healing magic, I applied a medicinal function to a container of water, and from that, applied it to the bleeding areas of her body.” Suri helped narrate the story by holding up a bottle of water she happened to have nearby. “You see, many years ago, so long that it well may have been hundreds of years ago, I made an astounding discovery.” She swished the bottle toward Modestus. “I discovered that the body is made of pieces so small that the eye cannot make sense of it. I learned that it was possible to *reconstruct* these damaged pieces, much as one would sew a torn piece of cloth back together.” One last time, she swished the bottled water before setting it down. “Eventually, I discovered how to apply this magic to liquid, allowing me to reconstruct the physical damages done to others. Thus, I became more than an immortal being—I became the healer of the Goths.”

The three had different reactions to the rundown, but neither willing to concede anything to her. Sixtus especially responded to this with a disapproving shake of the head.

“You and your chief not only insult us, but mock God as well with your false claims of magic.”

“My magic is real,” Suri simply defended.

Pius asked, “You can ‘reconstruct’ any wound?”

“In my experience, yes.”

Out from under his robe, Pius unveiled the simplest bump upon his arm, “A blood thieving insect caused this mark. Would this apparent magic water remove this?”

Suri blinked at the bug bite for a moment, but with a bit of hesitation, reached for some water, “Seems like a waste of my gift, but… okay.”

The process to follow involved Suri simply holding a palm over the water and closing her eyes for several seconds. She arrived at a face of peace, and from here, slowly dipped a finger into the water. Following a slight swirl, she raised her finger, opened her eyes, and dabbed the simple bug bite. Nothing happened.

Impatient, Pius looked up at her, “And what of it?”

“It is not an instant working, but fast. Observe closely, Father.”

Soon, Suri’s claim of magical reconstruction of the flesh materialized. Although hard to notice due to its gradual improvement, the blemish of the bite faded, and the elevation of the bump soon decreased. Modestus cocked his head back with briefly surprised eyes, and Pius found himself with clenched teeth while witnessing the complete removal of this bug bite. In the end, Pius moved his arm around, searching for any remnant of the bite—there was none, and one might even conclude that the spot on his arm was better than ever, as if even resolving the most insignificant of marks.

Modestus quietly admitted, “That’s amazing…”

Sixtus, with a strong pose and defiant crossed arms, asserted, “A common magician’s trick.”

Suri passionately defended her talent, “No, see, by mixing my healing magic with the water, I extended what would come naturally to myself into an external form. The water, in a way, becomes an extension of my own body, and by contacting the deconstructed flesh of another, too, brings about reconstruction.”

But still Sixtus insisted, “Even mere noble families make use of makeup. What is magic to you Crimeans is regular luxuries for those who can afford it.”

Modestus took a different approach by granting her the benefit of the doubt, “I assume you credit this talent to God?”

Suri froze for a time, a still smile upon her face as she gazed into Modestus. She mulled over the question for a bit, and with a nod, decided to answer with honesty.

“Yes, I do. But only as I believe Baphomet grants me my magic, and I acknowledge Baphomet as a son of God.”

This quickly led to Pius joining Sixtus for a glare and reacted with, “Absolute heresy.”

“Shameless infidelity,” Sixtus claimed.

Modestus tilted his head at Suri, hoping this to be a simple misunderstanding, “Baphomet? Son of God? By chance, do you believe Baphomet and the Lord Christ to be one and the same?”

To his surprise, Suri shook down this idea, “No, Baphomet is the brother of Christ.”

Modestus was speechless and his tilted head now left with one eye nearly shut and his jaw down in utter puzzlement.

“Eh?” was his reaction.

Pius demanded, “No true Christian believes that. Wherever would you get such a disgusting idea?”

Suri now revealed her golden necklace to the three—the star being penetrated by a spear. “It just makes sense. I was alive during the days of Christ, and already held these magic abilities long before those days.” She puckered her lips and dangled the necklace. “I was worshipping Baphomet before Christ, therefore, I believe my magic abilities and immortality are granted to me through him.”

Pius yelled, “No! Absolutely not!”

Modestus shook, “H- How does this lead you to conclude your forest god is a *brother* of Christ.”

Suri turned around, walking away from them in what for a moment appeared like a random retreat from the discussion. She arrived in front of a personally drawn image of a man of an appearance unrecognizable to them, hanging from the wall in the back of the den. This was Suri’s idea of Jesus.

“I believe Jesus and Baphomet are brothers, because Baphomet grants me my powers, and Jesus was a master of very similar powers. Both are sons of God.”

“Suri, that… doesn’t… your logic doesn’t add up,” Modestus claimed.

Lost in her own world now, Suri stared at the image of Christ and revealed, “I credit Baphomet for my immortality and magic, but it is Jesus who inspires me.” She felt for her necklace. “Jesus could heal the physical ailments of man, like me, but without flaw and with perfect love for all. I’ve learned more from the teachings of Christ in the past centuries than any other man or woman on Earth. But… there is *one* power Jesus possesses that I have desired so badly, so much that I obsess over it…”

Sixtus and Pius were so offended by this point that only Modestus remained to give her any sort of fair attention. Suri clutched at her necklace, and with her other hand, felt for her heart.

“I, currently, only know how to heal *physical* wounds, but Jesus, he knows how to heal *spiritual* wounds as well.” She began to obsess over the matter with suddenly massive eyes. “I have tried for centuries to understand this. It is my life’s goal to learn how to heal the soul of pain. The worst feelings in the world; the feeling of losing a child, suffering from rape, suffering from war memories and other horrors—Jesus knew how to heal this, but not I…” she shook in Christ’s direction, “He is my teacher and inspiration, but I am failing him in this way. Baphomet gives me the ability to heal the soul, but I cannot make sense of Jesus’ teachings…”

Finally, Suri turned back around, but upon doing so found Pius and Sixtus departing in silent protest. Only Modestus remained, but his presence would be short, for with a parting bow, he too left to join with his colleagues. Suri made no attempt to stop the three, and for a good while, would stare aimlessly off toward the three with the most soulless face imaginable.

“…well, that went well!” she randomly said aloud with sudden glee.

“She must be destroyed,” Sixtus insisted.

Modestus, walking alongside the two, protested, “Suri is a victim of wrongful interpretation. All it will take to correct her is to break this false belief of some pagan god being the… brother of Christ.”

“Enough,” Sixtus said calmly, “Claims of immortality, claims of magic powers, claims of the existence of some devil god, claims that said devil god is somehow the brother of the Lord. Why must you so needlessly insist on this absurdity, Modestus? Let us cut the head off this serpent and be done with it!”

“Let us suppose for a moment that Suri *is* truly of unnatural craft…”

Sixtus stopped on the spot, so hard that the ground beneath them was kicked into the air. Loudly, tall, and with a burning glare, he imposed, “*No*.”

Yet he continued, “We cannot simply slay her and wash the dark day away from our hands. How do we know she is not of some divine purpose by God?” Modestus gave Pius a strong eye, “In other words, a *test* by God.”

Pius closed his eyes and sighed, “As Modestus knows, I am often the first to suspect a divine test.”

Sixtus lowered his brows, “Pius, not you too. Do you honestly believe in this woman’s pharaoh magician tricks?”

The man gave the question a moment of thought, but nevertheless was passionate in answering, “No. I do believe both she and Goltz-Plut have reason to try and have us fooled—perhaps in some way to stave off a Roman invasion.” He slowly waved to Modestus, “All the same, I still rest my decisive vote with Modestus—we do not deliver death without proper justification.” Sixtus shook disapprovingly. “Suri is erratic, pagan, a magician and a liar—but until I know more about her, I must side with the notion that Suri is a confused, lost soul in need of correction.”

Again, shaking, Sixtus commented, “If we do not make the right decision, this peninsula could become a bastion for wickedness that spreads beyond these waters.”

Modestus responded, “If we do not take the correct path, *we* may be the ones harming God by delivering death to one of his own.”

“Then what do we do?”

Modestus crossed his arms, “I get the feeling we will find ourselves nowhere if we continue to step over each other. I suggest each of us has our own independent opportunity to approach Suri and use whatever methods each of us desire.” He turned his attention back onto Sixtus, “As a symbol of good faith, I will allow you, Sixtus, to approach Suri first. Pius and I will stay out of your way.”

“Very well.”

“Pius will follow you, and then I will take my own approach last. We will put together each of our findings and from that, decide how best to resolve the Suri predicament.”

The three reached an accord in the very center of the village, agreed upon with triangular a shaking of hands. The three came to convert hundreds, but by mid-day, their minds were completely centered on converting a single person. Whether Suri was truly a woman of immortal magics was one place of disagreement, and how to handle her was another.

What role Suri would play for the future of the world was, largely, dependent on the final agreement of these men…

To be continued…

**| > Chapter 1**

## Chapter Summary

1. The story begins with the Crimean Goth known as Suri sitting on the beach with a drum, staring past several birds and toward an approaching ship aligned with the Roman Empire.
2. The leader of the Crimean Goths, Great King Goltz-Plut, approaches Suri on the matter. Suri explains that she has asked the god Baphomet to strike down the approaching ship if it is bad, but asked Jesus to bless them if they are good.
3. Goltz-Plut explains that they are welcomed Christian bishops from Rome. Suri expresses great disapproval with this, paranoid of the Romans for crucifying Christ three centuries ago. Suri explains that she knows well that the Romans cannot be trusted, citing her immortal life of hundreds of years as experience. Nevertheless, he insists on feasting the bishops and makes Suri attend.
4. He and Suri greet the bishops on the beach. Father Sixtus is a former Roman legate (soldier) with a strict and rather cruel attitude. Father Pius is a bloated sort who thinks heavily on the idea of tests from God. Father Modestus is a rather ordinary looking man who wishes to spread God by teaching and "winning the argument."
5. The bishops are brought in for a feast, but are greatly disturbed by the sight of thankless (to God) eating, immense drinking of alcohol, and erotic entertainment. Goltz-Plut defends that it is tradition, but Pius and Sixtus are heavily critical of it being evil.
6. Goltz-Plut describes Baphomet to the three--the old nature creator god of the Goths. He goes on to explain that over nine hundred Crimeans now follow Christianity. He downplays the existence of about two hundred hardline Baphometics.
7. Sixtus asserts that the two hundred followers of Baphomet should simply be burned to accomplish a completely Christian society as soon as possible. Modestus is the antithesis to this, instead arguing in favor of guiding them away from Baphomet and into God's hands. Pius sides with Modestus, which leads to Sixtus explaining that as part of their missionary work, they are required to act under a democratic institution. Modestus and Pius siding with each other eliminates Sixtus' vote for genocide.
8. Goltz-Plut announces the much larger issue of 'half-converts,' five hundred-some who believe in an amalgamation of Christianity and the Baphometic faith. He blames this on Suri, revealing her immortality to the three, and claims that she commands great influence within the nation, and that many follow in her trail of theology. He requests that they convert Suri, so that her followers may follow suit.
9. Naturally doubted, Goltz-Plut defends his claim of Suri's immortality by acknowledging that she heals people and was the one to hold him in birth, as well as heal his dying mother when suffering from childbirth complications. He goes on to explain that Suri held the baby that was his father, as well as the father before him as further evidence. Ultimately, the three bishops conclude in private that Goltz-Plut is lying, for whatever reason.
10. The three bishops walk in on Suri healing a man with her supposed magic water, a victim of a snake bite. Upon spotting the bishops, she sends him off mostly healed. She goes on to command the early discussion by ranting about job being mostly thankless, then rants in length about why she hates healing snake bites vs. more common types of wounds. She is eventually silenced by Sixtus' command, introducing him to Suri as the unfriendly bishop of the three.
11. To cool the tension in the air, Modestus introduces Sixtus as coming from South Italia, Pius from Egypt, and himself from Greece. This quickly collapses into Sixtus questioning Suri's Christian beliefs, to which she surprises the room by questioning his own. Modestus defends Suri's paranoia of Roman Christianity as inappropriate, yet she points to Sixtus' past as a Roman legate as justification.
12. Sixtus plays off of her fingerpointing and brings the discussion back to her own faith. Suri, cautiously, plays with her words in a way that ultimately results in a non-answer, raising suspicion.
13. Pius acknowledges that Suri is indeed a healer as Goltz-Plut had claimed, but notes that she is hardly old enough to have truly helped Goltz-Plut out of his mother's womb.
14. Suri tells the story, in detail, of how she helped bring Goltz-Plut into the world, and also how she saved his mother from dying in childbirth by using her magical water. Suri goes on to explain that the body is made of tiny components, and that she discovered how to reconstruct these components when damaged. By extension, she learned how to apply this healing magic into water that can then be applied to people other than herself, hence her role as a healer.
15. Sixtus rejects this as mere trickery. To test her, Pius reveals a bug bite and orders her to heal it. Suri dabs his bite with some of her magic water, and soon enough the bite disappears. Sixtus remains unconvinced, but Modestus and Pius are dumbfounded.
16. Finally, Suri reveals that she credits these powers to Baphomet, claiming that she worshipped Baphomet and had these powers long before Christ came about. However, she acknowledges Christ as having the same powers. She thus links Baphomet and Christ together as brothers under God, evoking the great offense of Pius and Sixtus. Suri clarifies that this is what she believes out of her own interpretations.
17. Suri further explains that she sees Christ as being able to heal *physical* and *spiritual* wounds, and that it is her life goal to learn how to heal the spiritual wounds of a person (ex. trauma). When she finishes explaining this, she realizes that the bishops have left her.
18. Sixtus, yet again, insists on burning Suri as a solution. Modestus still passionately disagrees, insisting again on winning the argument instead. Pius maintains his support of Modestus, once again affirming a more diplomatic approach over a violent one by majority vote. Modestus shows signs of believing Suri is indeed supernatural, but that she may be connected to God. Sixtus views this as inconceivable. Pius, though supporting Modestus ultimately, refuses to believe Suri's claims of immortality or magic, instead sticking to Sixtus' belief that she is using lies and tricks.
19. Modestus states that in order to reach a final decision on how to handle Suri, each bishop should be allowed to conduct their own form of interview on Suri independent of the others. Sixtus is allowed to go first, then Pius, and lastly Modestus. They agree on this plan for the next step.

## Author Notes

#### The New Suri

This new start for Suri came after 49 chapters of Tales of Two Godcraft, which naturally led to a dilemma of figuring out what aspects of Suri's old character would be maintained here. Outside of the dramatic recoloring of her hair from gold to silver, I decided to, first of all, tone down her formerly iconic jokester attitude. Suri in this version is still portrayed as laid back in some ways, but is now far more dutiful and responsible than in the previous story. One major addition to her character--or perhaps merely a strong reinforcement of an existing trait--is her rejection of responsibility for the people she influences. This is not an entirely new character trait, as we saw Suri in Tale of Two Godcraft reject any responsibility for the creation of the Armee de Crimée cult of personality surrounding her. Similar to that, Suri in this new story creates conflict by resisting full Christian conversion, instead existing as a 'half-convert,' and due to her popularity with the tribe, many others thus follow in her trail. I felt that this was one of the more important matters to highlight, for while the reader may easily side with Suri's choice of religious belief, her lack of response toward the actions of her followers opens the door for debate.

It occurred to me as well that this is a form of Suri that comes long before any of the Tale of Two Godcraft dates (the earliest chapter of Tale of Two Godcraft taking place in 1804 CE), and this does afford me time to mull over whether Suri's more serious and responsible character is merely a product of this much earlier time. With this said, as the story progresses through the ages, I feel that it is conceivable Suri might drift back into her chaotic and joke-obsessed former self. These are things I considered when redeveloping Suri in the Prologue.

#### Baphometism

One of the uncomfortable decisions I made with this new story was to fictionalize aspects of the Crimean Goths, namely by attaching an ahistorical religion to their tribal kingdom. Based on the deity, Baphomet, that the Knights Templar would eventually be accused of worshipping, a substantial creative liberty in this story is that the god Baphomet was, in fact, a widely worshipped deity that originates from the Crimean Goths, and therefore Suri Yaktosh as well. I was very mixed on this decision, generally disapproving of my own choice to throw a fictional religion upon a historical group of people; I also, however, felt that there was great creative material that could arise from this. In many ways, too, this decision was made to complement The Osiris Contract, which similarly saw Selina taking on the ancient Egyptian religion. As far as regrets go, my only regret is wrongly attaching a non-existent religion to a historical group of people; morals aside, however, I felt this was a great idea for the story.

#### Suri's Rome-aphobia

Another minor but significant addition to Suri was a more open opposition to Rome, something that former readers of Tale of Two Godcrafts would be familiar with. As it is likely that this new story will eventually overlap with the now defunct 'Flashlore' of Tale of Two Godcrafts, it can be safely assumed that much of the anti-Rome emotions Suri has in the Napoleonic era will once more surface. With this new prologue, it is revealed that Suri has trust issues with Rome due to a long history with the Romans. Assuming, again, that the former 'Flashlore' in a sense resurrects, I felt that this would further support Suri's opposition to Rome, as now she would dislike the city due to historical grievances, alongside just not wanting to be there.

## Chapter Illustration

The first ever chapter illustration for Order of Yaktosh features Suri (albeit a future version of her) along with the speared star that her Godcraft necklace is shaped like. The illustration would go on to also be used as the cover image for the story, and follows a similar design to the cover of The Osiris Contract.

The image was prepared fully through Adobe Photoshop.

## Characters Introduced

#### Suri Yaktosh

Suri ('Yaktosh' is a name granted to her at a later time) enters the story as she beats a drum to the approaching sight of a Roman vessel carrying three bishops. She acts as an advisor to King Goltz-Plut and a healer to the Crimean Goths. It is quickly revealed in this chapter that Suri has an immense distrust of anyone attached to Rome, but reluctantly agrees to act cordially around the bishops. Despite this, Suri, who is a 'half-convert' (half Christian, half Baphometic), draws the attention of the bishops for this reason, as well as the bold claim that she is an immortal magic healer. It is also revealed in this chapter that Suri carries the respect of many, so much so that a kind of cult of personality surrounds her that joins her in being half-converts. Controversially, Suri refuses to accept any responsibility for her followers.

#### King Goltz-Plut

Great King Goltz-Plut is the current king of the Crimean Goths. A Christian convert, Goltz-Plut sees the mass conversion of Crimea as the tribe's best chance of avoiding invasion by any zealotic forces in the future, and so he invites three bishops from Rome to help counsel him on how to proceed forward. Although he holds a deep admiration for Suri--who at one time brought him out from the womb and cared for him as a child--he also recognizes that Suri is the primary obstacle in his plan for mass conversion, aware of the fact that her cult of personality is aligned to her half-convert belief system. Thus, while he is completely resistant to suggestions of Suri being executed as a means of ending the cult of personality, he does permit the bishops to perform missionary work on her, and disallows Suri from fighting back.

#### Father Modestus

Modestus is a Christian bishop from the Greek island of Calauria, and follows a more approachable and diplomatic strategy that goals itself with winning arguments as a means of converting. It becomes very apparent early on in the chapter that Modestus and Sixtus are polar opposites and foils to each other, leaving the very moderate Pius to break the tie in all of their votes, but in the prologue more often leaning in Modestus' favor. Modestus positions himself as the most openminded of the three, considering the possibility that Suri might be some supernatural gift from God that simply needs to be led in the right direction, while Pius and Sixtus outright reject her claim of immortality and power. Of the three, it is Modestus that Suri interacts with best.

#### Father Pius

Pius is the more moderate and quieter bishop hailing from Alexandria, Egypt, with something of a fundamentalist philosophy that has him looking to the Bible for answers to predicaments rather than one's own judgment. Although Pius plays a substantial role in needing to be the tiebreaker in all of the very partisan votes that Sixtus and Modestus duel over, he is otherwise much more of an observer in the prologue. He agrees with Modestus that Suri should not be killed, but agrees more so with Sixtus that she should be converted by any means necessary. Like Sixtus, he rejects Suri's claim to immortality and power.

#### Father Sixtus

Sixtus is a former soldier of Rome whose military nature is apparent in the harshness of his character. In face of the obstacle Suri poses to the mass conversion of Crimea, Sixtus strongly believes that it would be both efficient and moral to simply have Suri destroyed, a belief that neither Modestus nor Pius sponsor. Whereas Modestus falls upon a strategy of trying to win arguments, and Pius turns to scriptural citations, Sixtus relies on stressing the ramifications of Suri's actions--namely condemning her to Hell if she does not turn. Of the three, Sixtus draws the ire of Suri the most and vice versa, and in fact only seems to reinforce Suri's divided loyalty to Baphomet the more he harasses her.