[hider=Part 1]
Rhodanthe stood in front of the royal families of Raeldar and Thralreth, the leaders of the Southern Alliance, men and women who could have her head in a moment if she wanted. And yet they had chosen to meet with her personally and privately, in her capacity as the prophet. Standing before her were King Bearnard Sutharlan, Queen Sorcha Sutharlan, Iain Sutherlan, Queen Mylla Staghain, and Grand Duke Alfred Staghain, all dressed in their regal attire. 

“So, Bearnard, this is the prophet you’ve been telling us about,” Queen Mylla said. “The child prophet from Uzgob who bravely led the people of Nyhem from the dangers of Alasdair’s tyranny into the safety of the South.”

“I’m no one so grand as that, y’majesty,” Rhodanthe said.

“But you must be, if all of that really is true,” Grand Duke Alfred said.

“Is it all true, Bearnard?” Queen Mylla said. “There have been prophets before. There is also Johannia, whose vision we could say is far less radical, and far easier for the nobles to swallow.”

“She is credible,” King Bearnard interjected. “Her gift has been observed. Ask Sorcha if you don’t believe me.”

“I have seen charlatans and madmen, and Rhodanthe is neither of them,” Queen Mylla said. “She may seem a normal girl at most times, but at times the spirit of the One enters her. I saw when it entered her, and everyone who was present.

“Do you have still doubt, Mylla?” Bearnard said. “Or will you now choose to hold your support?”

“No, we remain in agreement, Bearnard,” Queen Mylla said. “Rhodanthe shall be the prophet of the land. Moreover, there is more important business at hand. How many of your nobles have agreed to join with us. How many of the noble houses will agree to convert?”
“A majority,” Grand Duke Alfred said. “But not more than seventy percent.”

“It is not enough,” Bearnard said.

“It will have to be enough for now,” Mylla said. “Having dissidence in such a radical event is inevitable. I am sure more will come around, once things stabilize. How many of your nobles will come around, Bearnard?"

“Iain, my son, how much support were you able to gather?” Bearnard asked.

“Well,” Iain began, rather nervously. “We have made as many overtures to the nobles as possible. We have assured them of Rhodanthe’s sincerity and how her doctrine is a perfect fit of our lands. That said, many are not eager for change…"

“How bad is it?” Bearnard said.

“Only about fifty percent,” Iain said.

“So for every man who sides with me, there is another who sides against me,” Bearnard said.

“They will come around, father,” Iain said.

“They had better,” Bearnard said. “Or we will be so mired in conspiracies that my reign will come to a premature end.”

“Your majesties,” Rhodanthe said. “I won’t fail you. I won’t let you down.”

“I can ensure that there shall be no disturbances when Rhodanthe holds her church ceremony,” Iain said. “It will be a grand procession. It will signify the end of the old and the beginning of the new."

“I am sure it will be a splendid affair,” Sorcha said. “And the beginning of a new era for our people.”
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As Rhodanthe stood within the cathedral in the city she sweated, and it wasn’t simply because she was standing in front of the great fire that the cathedral held. The cathedral was filled to brim with people who were there to abandon the old Church and embrace the new ways. These “new ways” were her ways, and no longer simply Johannia’s way. Rhodanthe had never fancied anything fancy or grand for her life, yet now people saw her as leader, prophet, and high priestess. And to think she was not yet seventeen years old. She may not have wanted this, but with the new faith spreading, there was no one else that the new people would turn to. As Rhodanthe stood in front, thousands of eyes on her, she waited as a procession of priests walked down the crowded aisles, holding onto the leathern straps of their censers. The people of South baptized believers in an unusual manner. Baptism was not simply done with water – for baptism in cold water would cause many to freeze to death here in the south – but with water so scalding hot that it turned to steam. As the priests walked down the aisles and approached the benches with their censers in hand, the people were surrounded by the smoke, and breathed it in, and in this way were the people baptized. This was not their first baptism. Thousands had come to the cathedral seeking to convert to what people had been calling the New Faith, the faith that Rhodanthe had brought from the lands of the desert. Among them were none other than the royal families of both kingdoms of the Southern Alliance, and many of their most prominent nobles. 

“Men and women,” Rhodanthe said. “I’m no great speaker, so I won’t pretend to be. I’ll only say what I need to say, what needs to be said. You’ve come here of your own free will. No one’s forced you. I haven’t forced, the kings haven’t forced you, you came yourself. You came here to be baptized in the name of a peasant girl some would call mad. The greatest armies in the continent will come down from their palaces up north and cut you limb from limb. Are you really sure you want this?”

“We are,” King Bearnard said.

“And so are the rest of you so sure? Anyone who leaves will not be punished. You can trust the King on that. I’ll make it so if he won’t. Anyone who is not prepared to risk their life, leave this church.”

Instead of protestations or shouting, there was simply silence, and a clear acceptance of what their new prophet was actually saying. This silence continued for what could have only been around thirty seconds, yet it felt like an eternity. And through that time no one left the Church. Rhodanthe walked down the pews of the cathedral quickly, with a steaming censer in her hand. She turned to an old peasant woman in the back and turned to her, and surrounded her with the steam of her censer. 

“In the name of the One, whose above all thing, I baptize you,” Rhodanthe said. “Let them remember that you were the first one that the Prophet baptized.”

Then Rhodanthe continued to baptize. From the peasants and the other commoners Rhodanthe heard cries of adulation. From the nobility she heard calls of gratitude, but they did not seem as genuine as what she heard from the others. Rhodanthe probably could never really adjust to ways of higher society and their ways of etiquette and manners, but she hoped that they were as genuine as the peasants were. Her job was unceasing. For hour after hour Rhodanthe continued to baptize, and when the steam from one censure ran out a priest rushed to grab another one for her. She turned to the royal families and baptized the two of them herself. Waving her censure, she turned to them, and the royal families wrapped in their silks and their furs were wrapped in her smoke as well. 

“We are done here,” Rhodanthe said to them bluntly. “You may all go home now. May the One be with you all!”

“You are a hard woman, Rhodanthe,” Iain Sutharlan said to her.

“Well, I’m tha’ prophet, ain’t I,” Rhodanthe said. “‘pologizes if I did anythin’ to offend ya’ majesties, but tha’ prophet’s gotta be strong.”

“The prophet has done well enough,” King Beanard said. “The first step is done.”

Yet even as they were talking, there was another man walking towards them. From the way he was dressed, and the way he was running towards them they could tell that he was a messenger. He huffed and puffed as he ran towards them, but he made sure to get his words out.
“My lords!” the messenger said. “I bring a message.”

“By all means, speak,” the Queen said. “If you are in such a hurry to deliver your message, it must be important.”

“Yes, m’lady,” the messenger said. “Johannia has arrived, along with many exiles from Uzgob.”

“And Fenick?” Rhodanthe asked.

“Nowhere to be seen, Prophet,” the messenger said. “Perhaps captured in Medea."

“Well, we must give them a warm welcome,” the Queen said. “Johannia is the mother of the new faith, after all.”
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[hider=Part 2]
Lycaon had no desire for a grand procession for when he returned to Sypius. Indeed, it seemed unlikely that he would welcome in Nyhem after what had already conspired. It had been made clear to him that he would not be welcome in the presence of the Emperor for much longer. Yet he would ensure that Alasdair that the Church could still be a mighty enemy, especially one to an emperor with so little legitimacy. He was now returning to his childhood home of Linsdorf once again, where the headquarters of the Holy Order had been temporarily returned to. With his holy knights by his side, Lycaon entered the village that lay below the castle. As the common people cheered at him as he entered on horseback Lycaon waved to them.

“People of Linsdorf, we have victory!” Lycaon said.

They cheered, though he was unsure if the people truly knew what kind of victory he had won. They trotted through the village, while squires for the Holy Order handed out food and money to the peasants. Lycaon always made sure that he was generous to the people, and for this they always loved him. He return to his family later, but first Lycaon had to see what Ser Glynda had been up to. Moreover, he had to tell his future successor what the changes in their plans would be, for these would be drastic changes. Lycaon approached the headquarters, with a squire there waiting to take his horse in the stables. Lycaon dismounted and thanked the squire, and entered into the local headquarters for the Holy Order. It was not a large place, but the strategic location – outside of Nyhem yet within the Sypius plains – was what made it so useful.

“Grandmaster, welcome back, and allow me to congratulate you on your victory,” Ser Glynda said. “We have already heard great news of your victory.”

“Your welcome is well received, Ser Glynda,” Lycaon said. “But with every victorious campaign another theatre of war opens up. The real work is now only beginning.”

“Oh? What has happened now?” Ser Glynda said. “We have received no news of any other crisis from the east. I had heard that the heretics had been completely crushed, and only remnants of them remain in lands beyond the Emperor’s reach.”

“That much is true, but you would do well to remember that not all that occurs passes through the lips of messenger and gossips,” Lycaon said. “Listen well to this: we have at last been betrayed. The emperor’s inquisitor, Alasdair’s blasted spy, tried to have me killed, and were it not for the skill of my knights he would have succeeded. His declaration of war is clear. We must show him that the Church is not the emaciated foe he thinks it to be.”

“We must not move too quickly,” Ser Glynda said.

“I already have my plan,” Lycaon said. “There shall be no more of Alasdair’s inquisition. The idea of a state-run inquisition was an insult to the Church, but no matter. It shall be null and void very soon. Ser Glynda, it is time for the Church to throw away political intrigue and devote itself to action. I will go to Nyhem and meet with Alasdair. It may be the last time I have the pleasure of meeting the Snake.”

“Will that really be safe, Grandmaster?” Ser Glynda said. “He is not a man that is gracious in anger.”

“I very much doubt he will kill me,” Lycaon said. “Yet even if he does, you are here. If I come to any harm, you know what you must do. If I must die, then so be it, but the Order must live on.”

“I believe you will come to no harm, Grandmaster,” Ser Glynda said. “But if it comes to it, gods’ willing, I shall do my duty.”
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