Three copies of this letter are sent forth, one each to Beatrice Fons, Monsignor Kea, and Thomas Franklin, care of the Eastern Priory in Landsrue, with a request to read the letter in its entirely to the convocation gathering to choose an Archymandrite. Alain requests that the messengers understand the letters must be delivered before the convocation at any cost.
I hight Alain de Grocie, Knight of the Order of the Tower, betime styled "Lightbringer" in Kesh-Necht by those who wrongly attribute our Lord's Glory to me his weak servant. Forasmuch as I am not widely known to the Brethren, I call upon Beatrice Fons, Abbess of Ancaster Abbey, Kea, Monsignor of The Church of The Cliff, and Sir Thomas Franklin, Knight Bannerette, Commander of the Chystyr Mint, to testify and bear witness that I am a truthful and humble servant of the Light, and chosen by Belasius the White to quest after the lost healing of Father Church.
For ye who must choose a new Archymandrite, the time is past for secrecy. Therefore must I acquaint ye with grave news.
As the Sisters tell us, Nine centuries, nine decades, and seven years have passed since Epimetrius and Albidar did drive forth the Python from these lands. Yet the ancients did prophecy the fonts of dark magery would be capped for a thousand years. My brothers, it is very like that Armageddon is but three years hence. The woes that do beset Father Church today are begotten of the sad truth that we, in safety, have forgot, while our enemies, cast hence into darkness, have remembered this truth.
As the seals that bindeth the fonts of dark magery weakeneth, so too doth our Lord's power. The powers that all true Churchfolk did wield to protect our flocks and harrow our enemies weakeneth apace. This, then, is part answer to the riddle I was set.
To this attack were we the more vulnerable as amongst too many in our flocks, and some few even in our ranks, habit and manner cynical replaceth faith and fervor. Children do practice the rites, handed down of old for our protection, with enthusiasm, yet their elders smileth indulgently, and do not lend of their passion and strength to He who Lights our Way.
Worse, dark agents of foul Stygia do move in secret among us. Their black deeds undermineth faith, turneth brother against brother, and in black rites do deconsecrate our sacred land and deny us the protection of the faith of our fathers. I call Monsignor Kea to witness that such a one was Hubert, lately personal secretary to the Archymandrite himself. He was not alone. The Hidden of Stygia have walked among us the last century or more, spying out our defenses, fomenting civil strife, and sowing confusion in warlike prepartion for the day that now dawns. Their armies march North: the drumbeat of War quickens upon the Marches of Eire, and armies of unclean beasts have betimes beseiged Eaglesreache.
Percy Fraubard, self-styled regent, is in the pay of Stygian masters, whether in full guilt or no. He hath murthered our beloved Archymandrite, a foul act that bringeth joy to the Serpent's eye. He seeketh control of the Crown, that it may not stand against the Python, but aid the Serpent in destroying Father Church and all our children.
We face such a threat as has not been since the days of yore, when Epimetrius, Albidar, Sagron, and Elihu delivered us from the Serpent and the Darkness and into the Light. Yet we are not bereft of strength. We are Father Church: our flock are loyal to us, and await but the spark to be set to blaze up righteously. It is for us to set that spark, and direct that blaze. Our Knights and Sergeants are yet the hardiest warriors on Life, and numerous. Our monasteries and Nunneries preserve yet the ancient wisdom, that guideth our blows. We are formidable, and our hands are heavy, if our hearts be true and our voice be one. Our Lord calls us: Let us use our strength in our Lord's Service!
Nor face we these evil days alone. Prince Edmund, the true and rightful regent and heir, is as all men know, a good and honest ruler. His power standeth with us against Fraubard, as we cleanse our poor Landsrue and prepare a foundation upon which to stand and face the oncoming Serpent. The loyal nobles of the First Estate shall fulfill their ancient parts, and lend of their power to the defense of King and Church. Landsrue herself fighteth not alone: the dwarves, ancient allies a thousand years gone, remember yet the hatred the Serpent hath for them, and do accouter themselves for bloody war, by our side if they may, alone if they must. Others, likewise threatened, will league themselves with us, if: we be ready, with a strong, united realm at our back, and Church entire, to give league likewise.
It is ye, gathered in Landsrue, who selecteth an Archymandrite to give strong and wise direction, under Mithras' guidance, to the whole of Father Church. On your choice shall lie the heaviest burthen any Archymandrite hath borne since Epimetrius: choose wisely and godly therefore, and let family sway you not, for in such do the Hidden delight. It is for him to guide Father Church through such a storm as no living man hath ever seen. It is for all of us to submit to the Archymandrite's will, whatsoe'er it be, and to take up our part in the ancient struggle against all things evil. We have watched, and slept, days uncounted. Now are the days of action, of the bright sword and the gentle touch, that Right may prevail and Evil be confounded.
It is for all Father Church's sons, wherever bestowed, to rekindle our faith and fervor, that we may strengthen our Lord as he strengthens us. Seek in your hearts: signs will be vouchsafed unto you, and the ancient privileges that were once our pride, whose lack is now our mock, shall be restored. Let each of us go forth as a torch to light the others, and we shall grow into a mighty conflagration. In token of this, let me bear personal witness, and then all's done.
I have walked faithfully in the arms of the Church all my days, yet when Belasius did place my quest upon me, I conceal not from ye that my spirit did quail, fearing lest my strength avail not. Yet did Mithras strengthen my heart, that I might not turn aside from the path he purposed for me, and I did not. When a companion was slain, desperately I laid my hands upon him and lo! he rose up, and breatheth still! Is not this a sign that his favor returneth, the fire in us rekindleth, and in its Light, there is naught we cannot do? When I confronted Hubert, false brother, in Kesh-Nechte at Shavrot, and by Mithras' grace, did rekindle there the Light, bringing healing and succor to the Brethren there imprisoned, t'was by the fire He had lit in my heart, and no greatness of mine. From His fire ye too can be lit, and as that blaze spreads our Lord shall find surcease in the heat and light of it. He will light ye, if ye ask it of him with a bold and true heart, and quail not to honor the oaths ye have sworn. Thus, by my deed and the intelligence I give ye today, have I fulfilled my quest. Thus, in service, may ye choose likewise.
I swear unto you, by my love of the Light, and my hope of Salvation, that I have spoken no false word. The peril is real. Our Lord needeth his Champions. Our flocks needeth their Father and Mother. But our Lord is Strong, and His power real. We are strong, and our power is real. Ye must decide if and how we stand forth and use it. Choose well, and walk ever in the Light.
Alain