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Are we getting a new section today?
"Don't shine so that others can see you. Shine so that through you, others can see Him." ~ C.S.L.
dang that’s dark
yeah, well that’s reality for ya.
It seems like they suddenly have a lot more control over the Empire than they appear to.
Uh yeah. They’ve got a pretty strong hold now. Not only are they controlling the Empire’s ruler by fear of the gods, but they’ve got him personally motivated to avenge his cousin and set his kingdom to rights. Soooo yeah. Things aren’t looking good.
yeah, Leon has a rough time of it, poor guy. I’ve gone back and four on writing his backstory as like a short side story novella. We’ll see though.
Fires will rise to testify that 2+2=4. Swords will be drawn to prove that leaves are green in summer
I was trying, but I think I’m out of time today. I almost had it done too. 😥
Fires will rise to testify that 2+2=4. Swords will be drawn to prove that leaves are green in summer
Also, this is ‘As you know’ dialogue. Leon is telling Julian something he already knows in order to inform the reader.
is that actually bad though? I haven’t done it often, and I don’t see much of another way to get that info across. Plus, I’ve used “as you know” sentences before in conversation just to help listeners make quick side connections so they can focus on the main line of thought. Idk.
In a way like the prince with his mask.
A little bit, honestly.
does his whole backstory make sense with him and his character, or does any of it seem/feel unbelievable.
Glad the climax is a good one. 😅
any thoughts on the new prince and his motives?
Fires will rise to testify that 2+2=4. Swords will be drawn to prove that leaves are green in summer
yeah, well that’s reality for ya.
is it really though??
(this is a joke reply, not a genuine question you need to spend a paragraph answering and wasting your time on lol)
yeah, Leon has a rough time of it, poor guy. I’ve gone back and four on writing his backstory as like a short side story novella. We’ll see though.
I think you should do it!
"When in doubt, eat cheese crackers."-me to my charries who don't even know about cheese crackers
It’s okay. Sorry I keep nagging you, but… I feel justified. I’ve had to wait on that ending for about five days.
"Don't shine so that others can see you. Shine so that through you, others can see Him." ~ C.S.L.
Thanks. I might!
I know!!!!!! I’m a terrible author!!! 😱😭
Wait a sec…… isn’t it my goal to make the reader miserable? 😈🤣
I promise to send the next section today. Right now. I’m running final edits this very moment.
Fires will rise to testify that 2+2=4. Swords will be drawn to prove that leaves are green in summer
@freed_and_redeemed @hybridlore @koshka @keilah-h @elishavet-pidyon @linus-smallprint
Okay all. Ready, set, here we go!
NEXT SECTION!
Leon and Julian did not go back to sleep that night. They spent the remainder of those dark hours in prayer for their friends, the other believers, and even their enemies. They watched the light slowly grow outside, and then there was the call of a trumpet. They heard shouting in the other rooms, and the sounds of men waking and grumbling at the early hour.
Leon and Julian listened in interest. Now that the light was stronger, they could see weapons and leather armor lining the walls of the chamber they were in. “What is this place?” Julian asked again.
Leon didn’t answer.
The two sat against the wall at the back, which was the only one made of stone. They listened to the sounds coming from the other halls. The door at one end of the room crashed open, and a man strode over toward them. “Ah, good, you’re awake.”
“Sir, what is this place?” Julian asked.
The man laughed. “Don’t you know? You’re in the holding chambers of the arena.”
Julian felt a cold chill run through him. “Why are we here?” he asked, hoarsely.
“It’s best you don’t know,” the man replied, and with that he walked on to the next hall.
Julian looked at Leon. Neither said anything.
Leon leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. “God help us.”
The sounds outside intensified, and Leon could feel the fear rising within him. It wasn’t long before the young men who had been in their end of the arena began to gather into the main room where they were. A few cast curious glances, and some made nasty comments, but most let them be. It was clear they were all frightened, and they milled about anxiously. They were clothed in tight fitting leather pants and long tunics loosely belted at the waist. They were all younger than Leon and Julian.
Some laughed while others spoke in low voices, and a many made loud boasts about the day’s fighting. From the conversations, Leon was able to tell Julian that these must be the young men who would fight between contests. The champions of gods and goddesses would be chambered in another part of the arena in their own private rooms.
Suddenly, there was a crash. Everyone turned as one young man shoved another against a stack of shields. Soon the two were tumbling about in a close struggle.
Two of the guards who stood in the room broke them apart. “Enough! You can try to kill each other in a moment but wait until the crowd is watching!”
As one of the culprits stocked away, Leon saw his face. “Rowan!” he exclaimed softly.
Rowan spun about, a fist raised. He lowered it just as quickly. Looking about to see no one was watching, he came to the side of the cage. “By the gods!” he exclaimed. “Leon, Julian, what are you doing here?”
“We were caught,” Leon said, standing up and coming to him. Julian rose and joined them.
“I know, I heard,” Rowan replied in a low voice. “But why are you here?”
“They plan to kill us,” Leon said. “I think they want as many people to see as possible.”
“gods!” Rowan swore.
“But what are you doing here? I didn’t know you were competing in the games,” Leon said.
“I wasn’t, and I’m not by choice,” Rowan replied. “The new Emperor commanded that men be pulled from the army to compete because he wanted more men for the blood games. He stripped the entire regiment of all men and boys under the age of twenty-seven, and he’s doing it to as many garrisons as he can reach in time for the games.”
“That’s madness,” Julian said. “He’s destroying his own army.”
“Tell that to him,” Rowan retorted. “Or don’t, actually.”
Leon was slowly shaking his head. “It doesn’t make any sense. Are you sure it was just an age group? No ethnic background or political opinions?”
Rowan shook his head. “No, just any soldier younger than twenty-seven.”
Julian looked at Leon. “He’s mad. He’s completely mad. He’s going to leave the entire Empire open to attack.”
“He claims this will be the Empire’s golden age,” Rowan put in. “He wanted to signify it with the biggest game the world has ever known, and there weren’t enough trained fighters. He’s stripped all the fighting schools, and that still wasn’t enough.”
Leon and Julian just stared at one another. Finally, Leon turned back to Rowan. “Then it’s a fight to the death for you?”
Rowan shuddered. “I’m afraid so.”
“Rowan are you ready for that?” Leon asked.
“I’ve been praying to the god of battle all night, and I had the priests make sacrifices on my behalf,” Rowan said.
Leon shook his head. “Oh Rowan, how many other young men have been doing that. It makes me so angry when I see them crying out to a god of battle that will never hear them!”
“But I gave all the money I had for this,” Rowan said, slipping a pendant on a chain from under his tunic. “It’s been blessed by the priests and made from silver found in the mountain of the gods. It is sure to protect me.”
“Rowan! It won’t. It’s just a piece of metal on a string!” Leon cried. “There is nothing about this charm that will save your life.”
Rowan shoved it back under his shirt with an angry jerk.
At that moment, a loud cheer sounded from outside and the roof shook with the stamping of feet. The young warriors ran to the window, shoving one another to see. Julian and Leon couldn’t see what lay outside, but they could hear plenty of noise. Rowan came back to them.
“What’s going on?” Leon asked.
“The Emperor just arrived in his chariot,” replied Rowan. “The crowd is going wild out there. He looks like a god! And I actually mean that.”
“What can you see looking out the window?” Julian asked.
“It’s on a level with the arena,” Rowan replied. “You can see everything.”
At that moment, there was a blast from a trumpet and Rowan turned. Several young men had claimed the front of the window, and one called back news to the rest who stood about the room. “The priest is about to make the sacrifice to the high god and his lady.”
A few moments later he called. “They’re making one to the god of battle.”
The room fell silent as the young men made signs over themselves, gripped talisman and charms, or whispering prayers to the war god.
Leon turned away, and Julian gritted his teeth. How many of these young men would die today having trusted in a lie?
Several trumpets broke the silence, followed by a cheer that shook the foundations of the arena.
“The games are beginning!” yelled one of the young men.
The man in charge singled out one fighter, and he was pulled aside. The ones at the window were still shouting things out. “The champions of the gods are parading out on their horses! They’re magnificent!”
Leon turned away, his ace tight, and Julian knew he was thinking of Flavia.
Rowan came over and stood near Leon and Julian. He looked to the young man who had been selected for the first fight. “Do you see him?”
Julian nodded.
“He’s going to win.”
“How do you know?” Julian asked.
“His talisman was blessed by the servant of the war god himself. He is sure to win. No harm can come to him,” Rowan replied confidently.
Leon looked up. “Rowan, that talisman has no power.”
Rowan scoffed.
There was no more time for talk. The chosen warrior was being taken down a hallway, and the room had gone still for the first fight. All but one of the young warriors had backed away from the window so that the rest had some chance of seeing a little. The one who stood at the window narrated the events. “Ours has the red band,” he called.
“What of his opponent? Has he come yet?” someone shouted.
“Ah, there he is. He has a dagger and net. He’s got a black band. They’re saluting the Emperor. Now they’re getting ready to fight. Fist clash! They’re close, I can’t see much! Ah, red draws first blood!”
There was a cheer from those in the room.
Leon turned and leaned his back against the bars. “Oh Father, open their eyes and hearts even now. Show them the truth before it’s too late!” he whispered.
The fight raged on, and those in the room held their breath. Suddenly, Julian grabbed Leon’s arm and pointed. Leon turned and saw that the warriors had come near enough to the window that all those in the room could see. The narrator fell silent, and everyone watch.
The red warrior was dancing back and forth, his swords gripped tightly, but the blades were lowered, and Leon could see him shaking with weariness. The net wielder was moving slowly and confidently. Leon clenched his teeth. “He’s going to lose,” he whispered.
At that moment, the black warrior sprang forward. Red defended himself as best as he could, slashing wildly. Black ducked and darted in and under. He swung his net and jerked. The next moment, Red had hit the ground, tangled hopelessly in the net. He struggled to break free, but to no avail. Black stood and waited, his dagger in his hand. Realizing he was trapped, Red turned his head to face his enemy. “I yield! I yield!” he shouted.
Black smiled. The next moment he had lunged and stabbed down with his dagger. He struck again and again, but Red’s cries of pain and terror were drowned by the roaring cheers of the crowd.
Leon felt sick, and he turned away as Black stood with his bloodied weapon and threw back his head to accept the roars of affirmation from the crowd.
Julian gripped the bars until his knuckles whitened. He bit his lip, tasting blood. This was all a sickening madness. These young men and boys were sent out to kill each other for the pleasure of the crowd. He watched Black move out of sight, and then two men came and untangled Red from, the net before dragging his bloodied form away, leaving crimson sand where he had lain.
No one had noticed that another one of the young men had already been chosen and prepared for the fight. He was now being shoved from the room toward the hallway. The chamber was completely still, and no one made a sound. The horror of what had happened was still fresh in all their minds.
Rowan had gone white, and his hand was in a fist over his chest, clenched around his talisman. The next fight began, but only a few in the room wanted to watch. Everything had suddenly become sickeningly real, and each one of them realized what was going to happen.
By the third fight, a few of the young warriors were crouched in the corners, sobbing and whispering desperately to their favorite deities. Julian’s heart ached for them, and he prayed that God would open their eyes to the truth. The hours dragged. Two of the champion contests were fought, then more blood games began.
Rowan stood near Leon and Julian but wouldn’t speak to them. He hadn’t moved since the first fight, seeming frozen in place. One of the armorers grabbed Rowan, and he gasped in fright. They ripped his tunic off and strapped tight fitting leather armor onto him. One yanked a leather helmet over his head while the other buckled a sword to his hip. “Pray the gods are with you, you’re up next,” he said.
They left, and Rowan stood gasping for breath. “Oh gods, oh gods,” he whispered. He sank to his knees and shook with hoarse sobs. Leon crouched down and leaned against the bars. “Rowan,” he said.
Rowan gripped the bars with on hand, his face deathly pale. “Leon, I don’t want to die. I’m afraid Leon! I haven’t got a chance out there, and I’m afraid to die!”
Leon reached through the bars and put a hand on Rowan’s shoulder. “Rowan, you might not have a chance, but you don’t have to be afraid.”
Rowan leaned his forehead against the bars, shaking with held back tears. “What if I was wrong,” he whispered. “What if the gods aren’t real, or what if they are and I haven’t done enough!”
Julian crouched beside Leon. “Rowan, you don’t have to do anything.”
“What do you mean?” Rowan asked.
“Rowan, your gods are nothing but wood and stone. But there is a real and living God. He is just, and He hates sin. If you die out there, you will face Him with nothing to stand between you. Are you ready for that?”
“No,” Rowan choked. “That’s worse than what I’ve believed all my life.”
Leon smiled slightly. “Rowan, it doesn’t have to be like that. God sent His only Son, Jesus Christ, to die for all our sins and take the punishment. He conquered death and now stands at the right hand of the Father. If you confess that you are a sinner and call out to Him, you will be saved. And then, if you die out there, you will face God, Christ will say, “Look Father, look at the blood I have shed for Him. He has called on Me, and by My death he is pure.” You will be made pure by Christ’s death, and you will call God your Father, and He will welcome you with loving arms. You will live with Him forever, and no one will ever harm you again.”
“I… I don’t know Leon, I’m afraid!” Rowan wept.
There was a groan from the warriors in the room. “Red’s going down.”
“He’s not gonna make it,” another murmured.
Rowan went ridged.
Leon turned back to Rowan. “There is no time to lose. You’ll be out there any moment now. Don’t wait!”
Rowan hung onto both bars and pressed his head against them, crying brokenly.
“Rowan, don’t wait,” Julian pleaded, putting a hand on his back.
“Oh God,” Rowan gasped. “Please God, please forgive me. Please save me. Please let Your Son’s blood cover the evil I have done. I believe you are the One true God. You have to be! Please, please save me. Please don’t let me face You this way. Please let Your Son’s blood pay my price.” His voice was lost in his sobs.
“Oh Lord, thank You!” Leon breathed.
There was a roar from the crowed and a low moan from those standing in the room. Rowan looked up at Leon and Julian.
Leon reached through the bars and touched the talisman hanging from Rowan’s neck. “Rowan, there is no in-between. You are His now, don’t let them have any hold on you. Trust Him completely.”
Rowan sucked in a sharp breath. Then, with a jerk, he snapped the cord about his neck and flung the pendant from him. He let out his breath and lifted his head. “I don’t have a chance out there, Leon. I can’t fight like they do.”
Leon gripped his arm. “Then you will meet the One who died so that you might live.”
Rowan wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and nodded.
Leon gripped his arm. “Are you ready?”
One of the guards stepped forward and pulled Rowan to his feet. “You’re up. Let’s go,” he said.
Rowan looked back at Leon, and through the terror, there was a look of hope. “Yes,” he called.
Everyone in the room turned to look at Rowan. “I’m ready, Leon, I’m ready to meet the one who died for me.”
“Go then, Rowan, and may they see His light in you!” Leon called out, tears in his eyes.
Rowan was pulled from the room, leaving a stunned silence behind him. One of the young men turned to his companion. “What was that?”
His friend shrugged, but several of them gathered by the window, trying to catch another glimpse of Rowan.
Leon prayed as the fight went on. No one bothered to narrate it for the rest of the room, for most of the others were crouched down battling their own fear, and he could only guess what was happening outside. Those who were watching were too intent on the fight to speak, and Julian could see the look of surprise on their faces. He heard whispering and turned to see Julian crouched at the bars on the right side. Kneeling on the floor, his hands tightly gripping the bars, was another of the young warriors, and his expression was desperate. Julian laid a hand on his shoulder and said something. Leon closed his eyes and breathed a prayer for the young man. Then he turned his attention back to the window, trying to see Rowan.
A few minutes later, Leon felt a touch on his arm. He glanced over to see Julian standing beside him. “They’re coming for us.”
Leon rose and the two stood together, watching the guards make their way through the room. “Father, use are deaths for Your glory,” he whispered.
“Yes Lord,” Julian murmured.
The soldiers came and unlocked the door. They grabbed the two young men and led them out. Leon paused near the window. “Please, let us see the end.”
The man nodded, and Leon and Julian watched the last moments of Rowan’s battle through the window.
Rowan was fighting well, but he was no match for his opponent. The man was wielding a long spear, and Rowan couldn’t do much damage. He was bent on staying out of the spear’s reach. Leon saw his left arm was limp, and knew he must have been wounded.
Rowan was stumbling with fatigue and blood loss, and the spearman was closing in. The man thrust his spear at Rowan’s chest, and Rowan twisted. The spear took him in the shoulder, and he fell back with a cry of pain.
One of the young men beside Leon sucked in a breath, and another whispered, “That’s got to have hit an artery.”
“It’s over now,” agreed a third.
Leon watched with blurred vision as the spearman moved forward. Rowan rolled away from him, but the warrior closed in. Rowan came up against the wall of the arena and his enemy pinned him down with his boot against Rowan’s chest. For a moment a look of frantic terror crossed Rowan’s face. Then his expression changed. The warrior raised his spear and drove it through the leather armor over Rowan’s chest.
The crowd cheered, and Leon lowered his head. “Oh Father, take him home.”
The young warriors around the window turned away, many of their expressions numb. But one of them was staring at his companions in shock. “Did you see the look on his face?”
“It doesn’t matter what his face looked like. He’s dead,” another snarled.
The young warrior shook his head and looked around the room. His eye caught Leon’s, a question in his expression.
The guards yanked Leon back, and he gave the young warrior a slight nod. God, please help him.
Leon and Julian were taken into the hallway. Above them, the two could hear the loud voice of a man speaking to the crowd. There were yells, cheers, and shouts of angry agreement. Leon could feel his heart racing and fear creeping through him. He let out a long breath. God, give me strength.
They came to the foot of a ramp leading out into the arena. For a moment they paused, the guards waiting for their signal.
Leon looked at Julian. “Are you ready?”
Julian nodded. “Let’s go down as warriors, with our swords in our hands and the name of our Savior on our lips,” he said quietly.
The guards led them up the ramp, and they stepped out into the sand of the arena. Around them, in an ever rising and widening circle, sat the crowd. They were yelling and jeering, but Leon didn’t really notice them.
In a raised box sat the young Emperor. His clothing was of a glittering silk-like fabric that caught the sun, making it seem as though he was shining. His mask was the color of fire, and one side rose in twisting flames. Beside him were his bodyguards. Leon looked away.
The sand of the arena was stained with blood in many places, and Leon shuddered at the sight. He looked up to see two men dragging Rowan out of the arena. His eyes filled with tears, but a slight smile crossed his face. He knew Rowan was home, and he was safe.
The two were dragged to the center of the arena near two pillars of stone with fire burning in bronze bowls at the top.
The crowd was chanting for their death and screaming curses at them for betraying the Empire. Leon ignored them and turned to face Julian. His friend was slightly pale, but he raised his head and squared his shoulders. One of the soldiers grabbed Leon and dragged him forward. They stripped his cloak and shirt off. Then they lashed his wrists to the two pillars with his arms outstretched. Leon looked to the side to see a tall, muscular man with a wicked looking seven-stranded whip in his hand.
In a flash, Leon was back at the mercy of the overseers. His back burned with pain at the memory. “Oh God, not again,” he whispered. He gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. Father, give me strength!
Julian watched in horror as the man stepped toward his friend. Sickening dread filled him, and he could hardly stand to watch. The man unleashed his weapon, and the whip tore across Leon’s back. Julian heard his friend gasp in pain and saw his head snap back and his arms lock. “Oh God help him, please help him,” Julian whispered. “Father, give him strength!”
The second blow fell, and the crowd screamed for more. Julian was sick with fear for his friend, the horror of what would very soon happen to him, and the brutality of the people made his head spin. By the tenth blow, Leon’s legs had buckled, and he was only being held up by his arms. The man struck five more times before a choked cry of pain tore from him. The crowd howled their delight.
Julian’s eyes blurred with tears. “God please help him. Please give him strength,” he whispered. The man struck five more times and then stopped. Leon was shaking and gasping for breath. His back was crisscrossed with more wounds the Julian could count, and he was awash in blood. The soldiers cut Leon down and he collapsed. They dragged him out of the way, and Julian was shoved forward. He twisted to look at Leon and saw his friend’s eyes were closed tightly against the pain, and his face was streaked with tears and blood.
Julian felt the soldiers tear off his cloak and shirt. The cold air crept over him, bringing fear with its icy touch. Julian looked desperately at his friend. Leon opened his eyes and looked at Julian. “Soldiers,” he rasped.
Julian nodded to him and the guards yanked him forward. Soldiers, Julian repeated, in his mind. We are soldiers of Christ, and we’ll go down fighting for Him.
The guards yanked his arms up and lashed his wrist to the pillars. Julian clenched his teeth and braced. Father, give me strength!
The first blow fell, and the pain that tore across Julian’s back was more than he had ever imagined. He jerked back and a cry tore from him. The crowd jeered at him and yelled for more.
Julian’s back burned and fire seemed to run through him, while his broken ribs screamed in pain. Another blow fell, and Julian lost his breath. The third tore across his back, and then a fourth ripped through the wounds. He could feel the blood running hot against his back, and he gasped in pain, hardly able to breathe. Another fell, and Julian was sure he couldn’t survive more. Tears burned his eyes, and he tasted blood.
Another blow, and Julian’s legs gave out. He fell, but the ropes about his wrists jerked him to a stop, sending pain searing through him. God help me! Please help me! He cried silently. Another blow fell, and Julian choked for breath. Blood filled his mouth and ran through his parted lips. He couldn’t stand it any longer. The pain was too much. A choked scream of pain forced itself from his blood-stained lips.
The crowd howled their delight and demanded the guard make Julian cry out again. He wished unconscious would come, but it danced away from him, and he was forced to go through the torment of every blow. His chest and lungs burned like fire, and he couldn’t breathe. He felt like he was drowning.
At last, they stopped, and one of the guards moved forward to cut him down. Julian crumpled to the ground, and the guard flung him on his back in the bloody sand.
***
Leon saw Julian struggling to breathe. Julian turned his head, and Leon could see blood dripping from his mouth. A jolt of fear raced through him, and he tried to push up and get to his friend, but a wave of pain drove him down again. He clenched his teeth and watched as the guards backed away. Looking beyond Julian, he saw two warriors in leather armor with spears in their hands moving from the end of the arena. One was a Black, and Leon recognized him as the warrior who killed Rowan. The other wore a red band about his arm and was the victor of a previous fight.
Julian’s eyes opened and he looked at Leon. Leon saw him slowly turned his head to see two spearmen drawing nearer. Julian looked away and drew in a breath. Leon looked at him, and Julian reached out a hand. Leon gritted his teeth and reached out to him. Their fingers touched, and Leon forced himself to reach farther. He found Julian’s hand and grasped it tightly, his fingers slick with blood.
Leon saw the warriors drawing closer, but he looked away and focused on Julian. Everything he had lived through flickered through his memory, and he felt as though his Savior had whispered “Well done.” They had gone back to the Empire and done what they had been called to do. The enemy might think it ended in his victory, but their death was Christ’s victory, for they would stay true to the end. They had fought their fight, and Christ had won in and through them. Now, in a matter of moments, they would be with Him.
The crowd had gone completely silent, and Julian could hear the steps drawing nearer. He ignored them and refused to let the enemy fill him with fear in these last seconds. He looked at Leon and saw his face was drawn with pain, but through the pain shone hope. One of the warriors stepped into Julian’s line of vision and then moved behind Leon. He turned with his spear in hand. The other stopped directly behind Julian. He could feel him there, but he refused to turn. Julian gripped Leon’s hand tighter. They had fought long and hard, following their Captain and standing side-by-side through many trials. Now, it was almost time to lay their swords down at the feet of their King. Strength and peace flooded through him, almost dulling the burning pain.
Leon tightened his hold on Julian’s hand one last time and closed his eyes. “Oh Lord, into Your hands…”
***
The first year of Emperor Dietrich’s reign
October 7th
The EmpireMy name is Fox. I was a dear friend of Leon Fischer, the author of this journal, and his friend, Julian Damoss.
Leon and Julian gave their lives for Christ on this day, a few hours ago. Though they were cruelly tormented in the arena, they held true to Christ, and they went down as true soldiers. It will be hard to press on without them, but we must. The fight is not over. No, it has only begun. Oh Lord, give us strength.
This day, on this page, I give my word that I will stand and fight. Though all the world turns away, I will follow Christ to the end. May His will be done, and may I have the strength that Leon and Julian did. They were a bright light in this land of darkness. Now it is time for us to rise up and take their place. Oh Lord, give us strength!~Fox Keller
March 15th/1957
I don’t often write, but today we made a discovery I must document. The land that I am standing in was an Empire. So much has happened over the years. The rule of Dietrich’s cousin was the end of the Empire. He was in power less than a year before the Empire was overthrown. It is rumored that the young Emperor was so filled with pride that he stripped his entire army to half its size, killing off all the young men under the age of twenty-seven in his blood games over the course of two weeks. That was an entire half of the known world’s greatest army, just wiped out. Gone. And by their own Emperor’s orders. After that, the Empire was taken over by raiders from Ararveh. From the stories passed through my family, I know that my great-great-great-grandfather who lived in that time, along with Leon Fischer himself were captured by slave traders and sold into slavery in Ararveh. From what I can tell by digging through several historical accounts, men of the Empire had never been sold into slavery in Ararveh, because they supplied such good slave markets. It was a sort of bargain. The slave traders wouldn’t attack them as long as they kept the markets of the Empire safe and open. When Leon and his friends closed down the slave market in Landstraten, they broke a strong link in that trade, which is why he and Rolf were sold into slavery. Now, I don’t know why Ararveh attached the Empire, but from what I’ve uncovered, they had been amassing a strong army, mostly horsemen, and they were ready to take a shot at world conquest. Then there was this tempting opportunity to attack the Empire for slaves. From the accounts I’ve read, they had spies in place who reported with some surprise that the emperor had destroyed half of his own army. After that, the opportunity was not one to pass by. The Empire suffered its first defeat on its own soil. The emperor and his officers were all killed along with all the priests and priestesses. After that, the temples were destroyed, and the Empire fell into the hands of the ruler of Ararveh. The people of the Empire were forced into slavery, many of them taken to far off countries, but a few remained to care for what was once Empire. The hidden church in the mountains had grown into a large village and was discovered by the conquerors. Many of the people were in danger of being separated, and Rolf’s brother-in-law was to be taken to a faraway country while his wife remained. For the sake of his family and the people he led, Rolf approached their captors with a request to stay in the Empire. It was many weeks of speaking with officers and leaders, but they were impressed by his humbleness and in the end, they let him, and the other Believers stay. Still, many Christians from other towns were taken away with other prisoners of the Empire. The years that followed were harsh, but for the church it was a reprieve. Though their captors were not Christians, they cared little for whatever religion their slaves chose to follow, so long as they didn’t cause trouble. In this time of hardship, the church flourished.
Over the years, things changed, and the lines between slaves and masters blurred a little. The Empire was given her independence in the early 1800s, but they were never a great nation again, and they never had another Emperor. In fact, most of the old ways and beliefs of the Empire have all but faded away. But Christianity stood the test of time, and now this nation is a free place of worship.
There is a university town that used to be called Lentrenk. It is now known by another name, but a university still stand there. It is a theological school, and they also run a strong foreign mission branch. While my team and I were in this town, we uncovered the ruins of the original University where Heinrich and Johannes studied and taught. Deep underground, there were strong vaults still intact, and in them we found countless handwritten documents of history, scripture, and worship. What a find. I am still reeling from the discovery. But, there’s more. We went on to the old capital and there we uncovered what remained of the great arena. To stand where Leon and Julian bled and died gave me such a chill. I can hardly believe that their blood had stained the ground beneath my feet.
We also uncovered the remains of the fort that housed the garrison of the Capital. Most of it was too far gone to find much, but deep within there was one cell that held a treasure. The walls were covered in writing. One of my colleagues found Leon and Julian’s names carved into the wall in the corner. To stand in the place they had been held and touch with my hands something that their hands had touched was a moment I will never forget.
One thing drew all our attention. In the center of the back wall was news that the emperor was dead, and the prince had taken the throne. Knowing the history of that tyrant, all of us understood some of the impact that moment had been, and we couldn’t help but imagine the despair and fear they had felt. But around these words was something none of us had expected. All around this statement were verses, Line upon line of scripture, and not all of it was as old as Leon and Julain’s. Some of it was newer, as though other prisoners held here had added their own words of hope and encouragement to these walls.
What faith they had! And what courage! I was shocked then, but later I understood, for there was a greater treasure yet. It is the treasure that has told us all so much of the history around us, including the fact that thew true Prince Dietrich had been killed and his cousin was the one who had taken the throne, the story of how God was made known in this land, and that the arena was indeed the fateful place where Leon and Julian gave their lives.
It was in an old museum near here. One of my colleagues had gone to find something, but I don’t remember what, for the things he brought back has taken all our attention. It was a strong box that had been brought in a little while ago by someone. They said it might contain historical artifacts dated around the time we were exploring. The lady who owned the place said we could take it for as long as she wanted. They have so many things people keep bringing in, and most of them are really of no value, but it’s taking her ages to sort it all.
We opened the box back at our headquarters. Inside, wrapped in cloth that threatened to crumble at our touch, were three books bound in leather. Opening them, we found that one was a handwritten copy of the Bible, and the other two were journals. They were written by Leon and Julian.Those pages are so filled with history, yet there is a deeper meaning for me, for those pages are filled with the words of faith written by two young men who have been my heroes since my father told me their story as a child. Their faith is also mine and reading what they experienced and the trials they went through, and the trust they had… it was so powerful it nearly took my breath away. Seeing what they had written with their own hands made these young men became real to me in a very special way. I wept and laughed, was strengthened and inspired, and touched so deeply, that I have vowed to see them published so that others may read and see what God did in their lives and in our country.
The people who lived in darkness have seen a light! It is certain. Like Leon and Julian, I will continue to chronicle the story of God’s plan for our country. May His will be done and may His light shine brightly in this nation.~Theodor Klein
FCA (Fellowship of Christian Archeologists)
Now the days and hours and moments
Of our suff’ring seem so long
And the toilsome wait and wond’ring
Threaten silence to our song
Now our pain is real and pressing
Where our faith is thin and weak
But our hope is set on Jesus
And we cling to Him, our strengthOh eternal weight of glory!
Oh inheritance divine!
We will see our Lord redeeming
Every past and future time
All our pains will be transfigured
Like the scars of Christ our Lord
We will see the weight of glory
And our broken years restoredFor behold! I tell a myst’ry
At the trumpet sound we’ll wake
Death is swallowed up in vict’ry!
When we meet our King of Grace
Every year we thought was wasted
Every night we cried “How long?”
All will be a passing moment
In our Savior’s vict’ry songWe will see our wounded Savior
We’ll behold Him face to face
And we’ll hear our anguished stories
Sung as vict’ry songs of graceFor behold! I tell a myst’ry
At the trumpet sound we’ll wake
Death is swallowed up in vict’ry!
When we meet our King of Grace
Every year we thought was wasted
Every night we cried “How long?”
All will be a passing moment
In our Savior’s vict’ry song~Wendell Kimbrough
Fires will rise to testify that 2+2=4. Swords will be drawn to prove that leaves are green in summer
is that actually bad though? I haven’t done it often, and I don’t see much of another way to get that info across. Plus, I’ve used “as you know” sentences before in conversation just to help listeners make quick side connections so they can focus on the main line of thought. Idk.
Well the problem is that it is kind of weird. It would be kind of like if I went up to you and said something like, “Donald Trump is the President of the USA – There is no king in the United States of America, only a president, so President Trump is the guy in charge.” Unless I’m Captain Obvious, this isn’t a natural conversation especially that bit after the hyphen.
But there are other ways you could have this come up without it being weird. Maybe after Leon explains how he became a knight, Julian could say, “Ah, I always wondered how the Empire ended up with a knight.” Or earlier in the story, when Leon announces himself as a white knight, some side or background character who is not up to date on things may say something like, “Yeah, right. Everyone knows the empire doesn’t have knights. Where have you been for the last ${200} years?” In which case he will immediately be forced to eat his own words. So there are other options that will flow better, you just have to get creative.
A little bit, honestly.
I don’t know if that similarity between Leon and the prince was intentional or not, but try to pay attention when you do things like this and draw more out of it. It can add to your story. Part of why Leon may have been drawn to Dietrich was because he understood what it was like to be famous, but at the same time hidden.
does his whole backstory make sense with him and his character, or does any of it seem/feel unbelievable.
I think I’m going to need to reread some stuff. One think that comes to mind is when Leon and Rolf were taken into slavery. From what I remember, I got a scene this was Leon’s first time as a slave. Now I know he wasn’t actually a slave, but in his backstory he told us that he was no better than a slave in the eyes of the nobles and he trained with them, which should give him some sympathy and understanding for them. (Unless he was too arrogant for that). But his treatment there should help prepare him for when he does become a slave, and he can draw on that to help guide Rolf before they are separated.
Other than that, I think it works.
any thoughts on the new prince and his motives?
Not too much. I haven’t read that last section yet, but guessing from the shorter and italicized lines I noticed at the end it will be the last one.
Right now the prince doesn’t seem to be that much different from the priests. In fact, he seems like excitably the sort of person the priests would want on the throne. Similar motives, gullible to their lies, and fully into his ‘role’ as a ‘god’.
Sometimes it is necessary to paint the sky black in order to see the stars.
Rowan shook his head. “No, just any soldier younger than twenty-seven.”
I don’t know too much about war or armies, but I know enough to know that is a bad idea. Especially since it is the younger ones. That’s got to be more than half of his army! Is he trying to be the blood god? Yuck.
Good to see Rowan be saved and some hints that some of the other soldiers may have turned as well. We needed that.
Nice touch with Fox taking over the journals at the end.
Now, I don’t know why Ararveh attached the Empire
Attacked.
Interesting with Rolf’s descendant writing the afterward. In his world, is he publishing these books as we see them now? Or is he just publishing the journals. Also what does he know about Aaron and Joseph? I also would like to know some more of what happened to the church in the capital. Were they all taken into slavery? Or was a church able to remain there as well?
Sometimes it is necessary to paint the sky black in order to see the stars.
Hmm, that could work. I’ll try that.
Oh wait, what if he’s describing the painting and he was like, “it was from one of the kingdoms that has knights, obviously not here,” or something like that.
Or does that not work.
I don’t know if that similarity between Leon and the prince was intentional or not, but try to pay attention when you do things like this and draw more out of it. It can add to your story. Part of why Leon may have been drawn to Dietrich was because he understood what it was like to be famous, but at the same time hidden.
Yeah I was actually thinking that.
I don’t know too much about war or armies, but I know enough to know that is a bad idea. Especially since it is the younger ones. That’s got to be more than half of his army! Is he trying to be the blood god? Yuck.
Uh yeah.
Not a good idea at all, as we see later…..
He was going for this whole “golden age of the Empire” stuff, and he went a step too far. Basically he was like, “we’re the empire, I can totally afford to kill off over half of my own army for your entertainment.”
and then he couldn’t.
Good to see Rowan be saved and some hints that some of the other soldiers may have turned as well. We needed that.
Yes!! i love that part! Rowan is one of my favorites, even though y’all only see a little bit of him.
Nice touch with Fox taking over the journals at the end.
Thanks.
Attacked.
That would be auto correct. Grrrrr.
Interesting with Rolf’s descendant writing the afterward. In his world, is he publishing these books as we see them now? Or is he just publishing the journals. Also what does he know about Aaron and Joseph? I also would like to know some more of what happened to the church in the capital. Were they all taken into slavery? Or was a church able to remain there as well?
He would have just published the journals. I had an idea of having someone like a novelist pick up the journals and hunt down Joseph’s descendants and such and then be the author of the books, but I decided to stick with the archaeological student because I like that better.
He didn’t know about them. But, if he gets interested in Leon and Julian’s story, (which he is) he’ll start digging (metaphorically and literally) and uncover things about them.
As for the churches, everyone in the Empire was taken into slaver. It was just if they stayed in the Empire or were taken somewhere else that was what changed. Rolf was able to get his group to stay, but some of the other churches were spread out.
anyhow, that’s the end.
Good? Or not.
Fires will rise to testify that 2+2=4. Swords will be drawn to prove that leaves are green in summer
I love this ending!! I was worried with how dark it was looking, you were gonna leave it off on a less satisfying note. But the Fox journal was hopeful, and I honestly love how you time-skipped it into modern times. Which, interestingly, makes it seem more real to me, the fact that these places would still exist in the world we know and aren’t just far off fantasy lands. I would love to know what the new name of the country that was once the Empire is, and what happened to the other countries (were they attacked by Ararvah too, or were they safe?)
Speaking of which, since Theodor is working and living in the 1950s and was thus most likely born in the 1910s or 20s, and he mentions that Rolf is his great-great-great-grandfather, when exactly would you place the main storyline? (BTW were there the world wars in your timeline? Or an equivalent? I remember that the war was over by the 50’s but still, if there was one, it would make sense if he said something about the fact that these places were preserved even in spite of the conflicts raging nearby.)
"When in doubt, eat cheese crackers."-me to my charries who don't even know about cheese crackers
Wow really?! I’m glad you liked it!!
I like the time skip too. Oh. Odd. The original one has reference to WWI-II. It must have gotten lost when I was editing. Well, I kept adding greats, and it was getting stupid, so I cut it off at 3. About late 1300s to early 1400s is when I’d place the stories.
Fires will rise to testify that 2+2=4. Swords will be drawn to prove that leaves are green in summer
@ellette-giselle That makes sense.
I was surprised to find I liked it too!! It’s just a really satisfying end to this story somehow.
"When in doubt, eat cheese crackers."-me to my charries who don't even know about cheese crackers
Wow.
I gotta say, it’s probably not as much of a shock as some of the other deaths, since it really felt like you were leading up to this… but still.
Keilah has a good point. I do like how you made it more hopeful at the end, and the time jump is really interesting. It’s cool to know what happened afterward.
I’m glad Rowan believed, but his conversion does seem a bit… last-minute. Not that there’s really anything you can/should do about that. It just feels a little like, you know those people that convert right before they die just because they’re afraid? That kind of thing, but I guess the thief on the cross did it. Although he maybe was a bit more repentful than I think Rowan was. I guess I don’t really see what led him to it besides fear. But I might just be rambling. 😅
I want to know what happened to Joseph and his family. Maybe you could add something in Theodor’s part about that?
"Don't shine so that others can see you. Shine so that through you, others can see Him." ~ C.S.L.
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