[b]The Second El Greco[/b]

After all he had suffered at the hands of the Communists, Markos Nikolaos (Marco Nicolas) had never expected to be in the employ of a far-left regime, much less sympathize with them. But the Philippines had done much to heal his soul, and since his conversion to the Philippine Independent Church, he had resumed his career as a painter of frescoes. All things considered, it was a fulfilling job, and the only thing that made him nostalgize for Mystras was the cuisine, which his Philippine Hosts had tried and managed to duplicate. That and the lower costs of paint; the old man had to make do with substitutes made from tropical materials for his church paintings.

Either way, as he stood on the scaffold, mixing his knowledge of iconography with the Philippines' own Iberian Traditions, he reflected on the story of his subject: [i]The Virgin of Balintawak; Our Lady of Liberation.[/i]

"For He brings down the mighty from their seat, and fills the hungry with good things," Markos recited from the Magnificat before musing. "How can such a song be mistaken for the masses' opiate?" He then finished his current section of the fresco, which showed a black-hared woman with European features clad in a red farmer's dress with a blue cloth wrapped around her skirt, carrying a machete in hand. Accompanying her was a child in a farmer's white rough cotton shirt, a red scarf, and red trousers and bare feet. The woman also had a halo that was shaped like the eight-pointed sun of the Philippine Flag.

A voice interrupted his reverie, its tone smooth and musical: "It is beautiful."

Markos turned around to find a woman dressed in priestly robes walking towards him; one of the female clergy of the Iglesia Filipina Independente. Like various fringe demoninations in the Americas and Europe, the IFI remembered that Pentecost outright said: [i]Your sons and daugthers shall prophesy[/i]. But enough theology; all that mattered was that Catherine Fajutagana was an able cleric who had withstood threats from the male-dominated establishment that still prevailed even today. Rubbing his eyes, Markos said, "It is for God's service, and service to The People is service to God. For are we all not made in his image?"

A nod from Catherine at that. "I wish more people realized that." Her hair was still largely black mixed with grey, her heart-shaped face wrinkled. Her eyes were narrow and Markos remembered embarrassing memories of remembering Hou's 'Yellow Peril'. "God has always sided with the oppressed, and Our Savior even turned out the merchants in the temple when they promoted corruption and excess. How can Hou and your Vafiadis mistake his word for a defense of The World as it is?"

Markos smiled as he climbed down from the scaffolding to show Catherine a better view of the frescoes that now adorned the interior of the newly-built Cathedral of the People. Built to commemorate the centernary of the birth of Gregorio Aglipay, the Former Lady President's father, it was originally designed as a gigantic trapezoid inspired by a Nipa Hut; a most ugly building. But Markos, upon his conversion, had pressed for a more 'traditional' building; one that retained the comfort brought by the past on the outside while containing a message of the future on the inside.

And by that, the building was a traditional basilica shaped much like Agoi Theodoroi Church in the municipality of Mystras, only with a bright red dome instead of pale orange, a bright red dome decorated by yellow eight-pointed suns made up of brass (real gold was too gaudy, and the copper and zinc that made up brass was common in the Philippines). In answer to Catherine's question, he gestured to the frescoes and mosaics of the church with his right arm, directing her at the Apostles dressed in Peasants' and Workers' clothing, the Saints weaving cloth and digging irrigation canals, and the glorious people of God being elevated into heaven.

"As you would already see," Markos would say, "Vafiadis and Hou are idiots."

[@Nerevarine]