Then this memory disappeared into the mist again and the next one manifested itself. It was a sunny day under a cloudless sky. The mountainous landscape showed, that we still were in Kasharovar. It was a large open space on a meadow. A number of tables and benches had been set up, arranged towards the front, where a small wooden stage was. The guests at the event were all wearing fairly simple, practical clothing, no more furs as these would be too warm for to the time of year. And the roughness of the land was written all over these peoples’ faces. Primitive-looking military insignia could be recognised on their garments. Many of those present seemed to prefer standing to sitting and were chatting in groups. Of the two largest groups, one was centred around a man Wenzel didn’t know. The other was Theodor, then known as Kalev. "This is the greatest honour of all! You're something special, Kalev!" said one of those talking to him. The person addressed smiled broadly and thanked him for the compliments. This was extremely unusual, at least for the Theodor that was known to Wenzel.

  Finally, the real event began. The man, around whom so many people had gathered earlier, stepped onto the stage and asked for everyone's attention. The guests sat down at their tables and it became very quiet. "Gentlemen, I would like to welcome you here today to celebrate the promotion of three of our comrades-in-arms!" The crowd clapped. "Special mention must be made of our colleague Kalev, who is the youngest man ever to be promoted to the rank of bagatur general today." Wild applause followed. The speaker waited for the commotion to calm down and then continued. "In the spirit of our great ancestors, he has worked his way up with tenacity and endeavour. Like him, we should all take an example from my father, Tibor, and continue to be relentlessly tough, no, even tougher and more tenacious! We owe it to our homeland and our ancestors to resist the occupation! And, if it's the last thing we do!" The audience applauded enthusiastically.

  "For fifty years, my father, Tibor the Iron, has waged a relentless campaign of resistance against the Ordanian invaders! For fifty years, our people have managed to resist the new regime of Ordania after the fall of the Melgarions! Even though they finally managed to occupy our capital and the lowlands again, the spirit of our people will never die! We will throw off this yoke and be free again, because we have no choice! Forget all those turncoats who licked the boots of the Melgarions decades before! Now they're suddenly "Alethic" or whatever they call it. They're still licking the same boots, only the person standing in them has changed now!" The audience laughed. "No! That cannot and will not be the solution. Only resistance until independence is finally achieved, can save us!" The audience applauded even more enthusiastically than before.

  Slowly, however, the veil began to fall over this scene until it finally sank completely into darkness. The next memory took its place. Kalev was walking through a busy town. He was not travelling alone; one of his companions was walking beside him. Both were dressed inconspicuously. His companion began to speak: "I can hardly believe it. Our country and our people will perish if this goes on!" - "Not necessarily," replied Kalev. "It will just change greatly. All the years that I've spent in the mountains with our people have made me believe that these foreigners are being rejected and hated by everyone except the elites. It seems to be quite different in the towns. "The two of them passed a lot of people. Again and again, they saw people wearing a triquetra, the symbol of Teleiotism, as a pendant around their necks.

  As they walked on, they could suddenly hear the blowing of trumpets from the local temple. It was the call to prayer and to mass. The two resistance fighters cast a hostile glance over to the place of worship, but then turned round and walked on. "More and more people are adopting these foreign customs and religion. The missionaries are everywhere! Even the Old Believers are operating in the underground here. As far as I know, there are even more of them than the Alethics," his colleague complained. Kalev replied: "Yes, but I think I'll see for myself what this is all about. To be able to assess an enemy, you have to familiarise yourself with their mindset." - "Are you sure about that, brother?" - "Yes. Absolutely." On their "foray", the two of them ran into a preacher who was trying to keep a somewhat low profile. Kalev approached him on his own initiative and spoke to him. He then asked him to give him a copy of the so-called Testament. It was the Melgarist version. "Let's see what all this is about."

  Darkness fell over these events. The next vision from Theodor's past followed. Kalev was sitting alone in a room, reading the book he had received. At that moment, all kinds of thoughts were running through his head, which Wenzel could also hear. He began to doubt the tradition of ancestor worship that he had grown up with. Some time had already passed and he had read through the Testament several times. It spoke to him on many levels. For him, the messages in it spoke truths that he himself had never been able to fathom.

  "I was trapped in these narrow limits of what was possible for me. The emptiness inside me was filled with painful wounds that were unable to heal. I couldn't resist it. It gave me a daily dose of something I called my soul. Detached from myself, it was broken and beyond my control. This only fuelled my anger and increased my torment. I spent those days alone, alone at heart. I tried in vain to realise that there was no longer any reason to fight it. Finally, what I had been searching for for so long was revealed to me. I found the place I had been looking for all this time, where I really belonged. My world had been empty and devoid of any fantasy. There had been no right and wrong. This reality had been hopeless for me. When I gave myself to God, right and wrong, good and evil suddenly started to exist. The world made sense. Life had taken on meaning. And that meaning wasn’t just pure lust for revenge. For a long time, I hadn’t been able to understand the voices in my head that were trying to tell me: "You are not alone. We are all waiting for you in the eternal life." Voices were humming in my head: "You've only lied to yourself until now. This world is nothing more than the next step. Prepare for holy war now. Move forward and never look back."

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  Kalev had begun to believe. He knew it would lead to conflict with the leaders of the Kasharian resistance, either sooner or later. They hated the Ordanians and everything they brought with them. That included religion. Even though Teleiotism actually originated in Camenia. Kalev stroked his beard, while contemplating. His beliefs were now at odds with his role here, with those the Ordanians called the 'hordes'. But he would never compromise, at least not when it came to his innermost beliefs.

  The scene slowly faded away until we were once again in complete darkness. The curtain opened to the next memory. It looked like it was spring and everything around was blooming and growing in lush green. Some high-ranking members of the Kasharian resistance were gathered. Opposite them stood Kalev with a whole troop of men behind him. The man in the middle, who had obviously been approached by Kalev, turned bright red.

  "Completely out of the question! The worship of foreign gods has no place in our ranks. My venerable father and all those who came before him would turn in their graves!", he excoriated the petitioner. Kalev responded to the descendants of the Iron with an equally iron expression. Unshakably he said: "We are one people! We belong together. But you must realise that times have changed. Why don't you go down into the cities of Kasharovar? You will see how much the mindset of the people has changed. This change cannot be stopped and most certainly can’t be reversed. The world is in constant change and so is our homeland. Time does not stand still, honourable gentlemen. The Tibors have determined the fate of the resistance for a very long time now. There is hardly anyone who can remember a time before your lineage."

  The leaders of the Kashar resistance looked at him, puzzled but defiant. "Have you ever considered that perhaps there is a reason why we have lost and are becoming weaker and weaker in our own country? If you would allow other perspectives, accepted other beliefs, then that would give us new momentum and not condemn us to a confrontation with our own people, namely those who have converted to Teleiotism! Let’s say you actually came back to power, what would you do to those who don't think like you? Would you just massacre half the population then?" The Tibors, however, wouldn’t hear of it. "Go to hell!" the heir of Tibor shouted at him. "Traitors and those who disobey orders will be executed, you know that very well!" Kalev replied with a calm demeanour: "Then I propose the following: If I can beat you one-on-one, you'll let me and my followers go."

  That was a very clever suggestion. It would spare "the hordes" the great losses that this infighting would entail. Besides, it would have been dishonourable for the Supreme Leader of the Kashars to refuse a challenge to a duel. He accepted. So, the two got into position opposite of each other and drew their swords. A referee shouted loudly: "Ready, steady, go!" The two leapt at each other.

  Kalev launched a strike from above, but then withdrew to avoid his opponent's thrust. He left his position quite open in order to provoke another attack. It wasn’t long in coming. Kalev parried and hit his opponent on the left forearm. Said opponent groaned slightly for a moment and took a step back. Kalev went on the attack. He hinted at another strike from the left, but then in a flash changed his attack to a kick. The son of Tibor stumbled and fell to the ground. When he looked up, the sword of his challenger, who was standing above him, was pointed at him. He had lost. For Kalev, this fight was nothing special. He had never lost a fight before, at least not one that wasn't just for training. For the son of Tibor, it was different. He was deeply ashamed. His ancestors would never forgive him for this defeat.

  But there was nothing he could do. He had given his word in front of the assembled troops. To break it would bring great shame upon him. He had to let Kalev and his men go now. With his usual emotionless expression, the man said his goodbyes. "Gentlemen, may we meet again some day! Although, when that day comes, the circumstances will be very different. Until then, may God protect the Kashar people!" He and his followers saddled their horses and rode off. They travelled west, away from their homeland. Kalev, whose name would soon be Theodor, was firmly convinced that the real battle for the future of Kasharovar could only be fought in Ordania and on the side of the Old Believers.

  Theodor had realised something that the Tibors were too stubborn to acknowledge. The ideological basis of their legitimisation of rule was eroding in the face of the increasing conversion of the Kashars to the monotheistic Teleiotism. Only military successes would be able to legitimise their rule in the long term. But this would not happen. They were on the defensive and there was no way out of this impasse. They were doomed to fail.