Breaking Wheel and Golden Sun, the Story of the Sword Saint Fiona (Patreon)

Été 1917

In the small farming village of Chapelle, north of the city of Cena. The people toiled as they had for generations, harvesting the grains that would go on to feed the people of Francia, this was true for the Petitjean family. 

Fiona did her daily chores, helped around where she could even before the sun truly rose over the sleepy farmhouse she and her family lived in. Her father and brothers had gone to the war, only Henri and Hugo had returned, Henri didn't stay for long, he left to Luthum to serve the Republic as a Republican Guard, Hugo came back missing a part of his face, the doctors had made a mask to cover it. With time the glassy eye and waxy cheek became just another part of his face. Hugo had taken charge of the farm, he didn't speak much about the war, about what happened, nor did Henri when he would come home to visit in his formal wear of a Republic Guard. Fiona did not ask.

On one of Henri's visits he came accompanied by a young man, a fellow Republican Guard, Gabriel François Durand. Fiona was smitten with him, she remembered his name, his golden brown hair, and green eyes. It was such a superficial thing, she was embarrassed to admit it, she would purposely put herself in his way, help him out with navigating the small village and meeting the locals. Everything and anything to be present. 

Fiona's mother had fallen into a deep grief after the war and the death of her husband and sons. Hugo, Henri, and Fiona had two more brothers, both died during the war, neither their bodies nor the one of her beloved Martian were given back for a proper burial. She didn't even know where to mourn, where to lament and grieve. The Church could only give her words of sympathy, but L’ Union Solaire gave her a place to mourn, they built a small monument to the fallen in Cena, they understood her pain in a total way that the Church could not understand, the church spoke of a temperance in the pain, the Solaire spoke of a burning fire, a pain that would consume them and how from that pain absolution would come. One can not ignore their feelings, one must let the fire burn and consume and from the ashes a true totality will come.

Within Cena the message of the Radiant Revolution had spread like wildfire, as the once unknown cult of L'Union Solaire had risen there during the days following the forced treaty placed upon them by the American Interlopers. Its influence would further develop as the famed war hero Aurelian Vasseur would be seen amongst their ranks, eventually giving passionate speeches to the ever increasing crowds of onlookers, everyone had been touched and burned by the war, from every level of society no one was left unscathed. A burn kills the flesh, what comes after is hardened and resilient scar tissue, but before the body can heal the dead and necrotizing surface must be cleaned.  In 1915 Vasseur and his most hardened loyalists would march publicly towards the Capital city of Luthum, the Radiant Revolution demonstrated its rapidly growing support, the fire was only emboldened with the heavy handed response of the Frankish Government. They openly attacked Vasseur, both trying to smear his image and shackle him for the crime of treason. Yet the people knew, even within the Government, they knew he had fought with honor and valor for the Republic, he was no traitor or enemy to Francia or the Frankish people.

The Republican Guard were ordered to apprehend him, they refused, they sided with Vasseur and the Soliculists. The Frankish Legion was quickly mobilized leading to a standoff between the Legion and the Republican Guard and Soliculists, left with no choice the government parlayed with Vasseur and agreed to hold a new referendum for the Republic, which had been found lacking and subservient to the whims of the Americans following the humiliation that was the forced end to the war, a war that the Frankish people could have won, yet due to their cowardice, the deaths of millions meant nothing, the sacrifice they made to the fire of victory was stolen from them.

From the Radiant Revolution came a new Republic, the outside powers of the world  only spared a glance as the threats to the east of the Kiber-Tvar loomed over Europa and World at large. Vasseur was elected as the head of state and shortly after began to do away with the dregs that were holding down the Frankish State, L'Union Solaire spread quickly throughout the rest of Francia, something that the Catharin Church found troubling as the Soliculist exposed rhetoric against the institution that had been the back bone of the Frankish people for millennia. The radical spokesman called it a Slave Church, slave to the man in the Vatican and a dying God, one that would be nothing but ash in the fires of totality. 

The Catharin represented a weakness and stagnate force within the Frankish society, one that had long outlasted any value to a rapidly and explosively new world order. On the battlefields of the Europan War, it was not the Catharin God who fought with them, for his kingdom is that of the dead and the dying. Comfort to the gone, yet the fire of the Solaire engulfed Vasseur and his men, empowered them to fight against the Rhinelanders and their steel. Where cowards like Lyon sought aid from the Britannians and most shamefully of all the Americans, Vasseur fought on. Where the Penitent Legion died to the steel of the Rhine, Vasseur broke through, where the men of Lyon died in the mud of Vurdux, Vasseur broke through.

This would not be the same story, this would not be the fate of the people of Francia ever again. Through the fire of the Sun God Mithria and his anointed champion, this will never again be. Lyon, once the Maréchal de Francia, now disgraced, has been sent out to the furthest reaches of the Frankish Colonies deep in the lands of Afrika. The once Grand Legion of the Franks he led, now dissolved into various colonial legions. The men within the Frankish Legion that sided with the Radiant Revolution became the core of the new Grand Legion, the Solaire Legion within Francia. The Catharin fanatics of the Penitent Legion, a Legion that took all who would volunteer, be it from the natives of colonies to the criminal scum across Francia, was sent to wither and die in Northern Afrika, a land in which conflict was boiling over following the collapse of the once mighty Ophidian Empire. 

Under Vasseur things didn't change much for people like Fiona, she still did her daily routine, walked to the village and interacted with the people she would typically do so with. The Chapel in town was every passing month more empty, Fiona and her brother Hugo kept on going, as the flock thinned, and the fire from the Solaire rose with more and more parishioners. The strange symbol and figure of a man they called Mithria Solaire was brought from Cena to their small village. Fiona saw it, it was hard not to see the golden idol in the village square. Something was strange about it, she couldn't place the feeling, but it was hard for her to look at it, her eyes felt wrong. She would much rather take the longer route around the village then see it.

It had been a year since she met Gabriel, although her brother Henri didn't approve of it, the young couple had found themselves intertwined in a love affair. Hugo could appear dense like a boulder, more brawn than brain, he knew of the two already, he didn't bother them. Fiona's mother had become reclusive, only heading out to observe the new practices of the Solaire, the way the fire danced in her old eyes was strange, like the light inside had faded long ago, only to be replaced by the fire of Solaire. They had seen Henri less and less, Gabriel taking over his role policing the area, Henri had gone to the Luthum, hand picked by the Hierophant of Solaire to join Vasseur's ranks. Gabriel always spoke about him with great respect, Gabriel himself was too young to have served in the war, but Henri had fought alongside Vasseur, he was part of the legion under his command. Henri had spoken of Vasseur and his natural resplendent aura, the light seemed to emanate from the man as he spoke. Gabriel had personally never seen Vasseur, but he believed Henri. Fiona smiled and laughed at Gabriel, she wasn't trying to be rude, but she knew Henri, and he was prone to purple prose and exaggerations, although Gabriel wasn't so sure if it was just something so easily dismissed. 

Rêves d'été 1920

Fiona's mother had gone missing one night, she went out and never returned, the fire at the Mithria Solaire was particularly bright that evening, it illuminated the skies, Hugo shut the window shutters they didn't speak about it the next morning. Gabriel had warned them not to go out at sunset anymore, people had been disappearing and he had been struggling to get resources and aid from Cena to investigate. Although they hadn't heard from Henri in a year, Gabriel knew that his former captain was still alive, he was an important figure in the Solaire Legion now. Fiona had made her trips to town shorter and less frequent, many of the locals had begun to act strange and cold to her and the few others that did not attend the Solaire. She felt safer accompanied by Hugo or Gabriel, at least with them she didn't feel isolated and alienated.

The small chapel that Hugo and Fiona had attended, had been burnt down, the priest tragically died within the fire. Fiona left flowers at the site, it was a lonely site as the people of the flock had through the years joined the Solaire or suddenly moved out of the village. The Soliculists had moved quickly and cleared the ruins, as they said that it was a sore on the eyes and with the Solstice approaching it would be unbecoming to have such ruins littering the village. Chapelle would be blessed that day, as a Hierophant from Cena would come to preside over the Ceremony of Totality. 

Gabriel and Fiona walked across the farms, Gabriel looked on edge, the bags under his eyes darkening, he had tried his best to solve the disappearances, but at every lead he was met with dead ends from both the locals and command at Cena. Fiona stopped behind him, it took him a moment to notice that she had stopped walking, she was looking out to the fields, a single tree off in the distance. “Gabriel, you see that tree over out in the distance, that's where my parents met, my dad he carved their names into the trunk.” Fiona didn't turn to look at him as she said that Gabriel approached her. “I remember, you told me that… I think it was a day before I left back to Cena with Henri. I didn't forget.” Gabriel put his arm around her, she leaned onto him. “Gabriel, I have something to confess to you.” Gabriel looked at her. “What is it Fiona?” Fiona looked into his eyes, they were puffy and watery. “I'm, I'm pregnant.” Gabriel stepped back for a second before grabbing on to her, he looked less tired, but something quickly changed in his expression. “Are you not happy?” Fiona asked him with a voice that was almost a whisper. “ Of course I am! Of course, but, but we have to talk to Hugo, I have to talk to you both, listen it's, it's important. Fiona, we have to make plans, we have to pack up and get out of here! I mean, I'm sorry, it's just, this place isn't safe.” Fiona held on to him and tightened her grip on his arms. “ It's okay, please catch your breath Gabriel, what's wrong, what do you mean?” He took a deep breath and composed himself. “The people, the disappearances, all of it, they didn't leave, your mother, the priest, all of them Fiona, all of them died, all of them were Catharins. I know it, command has, hasn't been taking my reports, they know. I was going to tell you both, today. I've been trying to think of a good way of saying it. We need to leave Fiona. Hugo, me, you and our baby. Please Fiona.”

Fiona and Gabriel hurried back to the farm house, outside of it a motorised vehicle was parked. Gabriel stopped and pulled Fiona behind the barn, as he looked at the vehicle, he recognized it, it was a car from Command. Why was it here? Inside the house Hugo sat down with Henri, he was flanked by two Republican Guard, both of them armed. “Today is the Solstice brother, are you sure you don't wish to attend, the Hierophant is already orchestrating the rites of Totality to the believers within the village, I felt so proud to learn that our village would be amongst the first to be offered up to Mithria.” Henri's helmet was golden, on it the symbol of the Solaire, the mask he wore made it impossible to see his face. “Henri, Ma died… she was killed by the Soliculist, burned alive, did you know that?” Hugo put down his cup, his eye piercing through the mask. “I heard she was amongst the first to accept the path… a good woman, her soul undoubtedly is burning brightly as we speak.” Henri didn't move, he was perfectly still. “Get out of my house, you aren't welcomed here.” Hugo slammed his fist on the table. Henri removed his mask, his face was exactly how Hugo remembered it. “ You hurt me brother, you really do… so be it. We will be on our way… where might Fiona be I wonder.” Hugo smashed the cup into Henri's face, the two Republican Guard quickly pointed their guns at him, Hugo pulled out his revolver and fired. Killing one of the Guard as the other one fired into him, Hugo fired again, finding his mark in the throat of the Guard. He stumbled back and slumped against the wall. Henri looked at the scene, Hugo raised his gun and fired at Henri, the gun clicked. Henri calmly walked to the body of a Guard, he grabbed an incendiary grenade. “It's a privilege to die in the fires of Mithria, Hugo, this is my last kindness to you brother.”

The gunshots rang out. Fiona stumbled towards the house Gabriel held her he tried to pull her back as her heart raced and he tried to calm her, as the door opened and Henri walked out he had not yet put on his mask. He looked at Fiona and Gabriel, he smiled at them. “Fiona, Gabriel, it's nice to see you both, I was looking for you, the ceremony is already in progress… look.” He pointed to the distance, the town had a faint warm glow to it. Smoke began to creep out behind Henri as he slowly walked up to the pair, he had one of the rifles slung on his shoulder and the mask on his hip. “You two can still join the ceremony, it isn't too late.” Gabriel let go of Fiona and he walked in front of her, she looked on as the house was engulfed in flames. “What did you do? Captain, what are you doing!?” Gabriel stood his ground as Henri stopped in front of him. “Gabriel, the fire doesn't dance in your eyes? You had promise, only the path of totality is fit for you now. Don't make this hard for you and Fiona.” Gabriel tried to pull out his side arm, Henri smashed him across the face with the stock of his rifle. The side arm fell next to Fiona, as Gabriel spat out blood, Henri kicked him in the ribs dropping. “You think you can strike your superior, are you insane Gabriel, are you lost completely? Truly the path of totality is your only way to save yourself.” Fiona grabbed the pistol and pointed it at Henri, he looked at her and smiled. “Sister, put the gun down, it isn't becoming of you, I already had to put to rest one sibling today, I don't want to do that again.” Fiona's eyes widened.

Henri slowly approached her, and in one motion he slammed the butt of the rifle into Fiona's gut. She lets out a visceral gasp as she falls to her knees, pistol dropped, and clutching her stomach as she tries to get her breath back, it wasn't working, it felt like a burning fire within her lungs followed by a sinking and sinking feeling as she held the small bump. “I'm sorry I had to do that Fiona, you left me no choice.” He reaches for her hair, only to be tackled to the ground by Gabriel, in a rapid and violent motion Gabriel slams Henri's head against the ground repeatedly. Henri reaches for his belt, drawing a dagger from it, and driving it through Gabriel's chest. Yet Gabriel did not stop his assault, slamming fist after fist against Henri's face, Henri stabbed and stabbed. Rain began to pour, as Henri threw Gabriel off of him, he struggled to get up, his face bloodied and smashed, Gabriel for his part was falling to take even shallow breaths. Henri looked over at Fiona, a single shot rang out as she fired at him, blasting a chunk of his skull away. He dropped like a stone next to Gabriel. 

Fiona limps her way to Gabriel, he looks at her, the light in his eyes slowly fading as the fire of the house dances in them. He struggles to say anything, wheezing, “Go south… as far as you can, south.” The only thing that remained was the fire, dancing in his eyes, Fiona's ears rang, she was deafened, only an overpowering humming within her ears was heard. She yelled until she had no more air, until her throat hurt. The water pouring down on her as in the distance the town of Chapelle was consumed by the flames of Mithria, every last soul burned on the altar of totality. 

Raison d’être 1920

Fiona stumbled, she was exhausted, she was in constant pain and a feeling of sickness that couldn't leave and wouldn't. She had been walking south for weeks, Hugo had taught her to fend for herself, he had taught her what she could eat in the wild, she carried Gabriel's pistol still, she wasn't defenseless, she wasn't helpless. She wasn't going to stop, she couldn't stop, she just wanted to get as far away as she could from what was Chapelle. She would keep going south, south to the border, it was very far, but she could make it to the lands of Italia. She would be safe there, she would. She clutched her stomach, the pain was horrendous, she had to stop and rest. She fell on her knees and leaned against a tree, the air smelled wet, rain was near again, she would have to find shelter. She made a mental note, as she closed her eyes and faded into an exhausted sleep, her body shutting itself down despite the horrible pain. A leaking feeling crept down her leg, a vile sensation built up in her stomach. She woke up to see blood pooled around her legs, the rain had come, and she wretched. 

She didn't want to move, she didn't want to keep going, her body was battered and beaten, she only slept out of exhaustion. She had made essentially no progress, she didn't even know where she was anymore. Everything was taken from her, everything and everyone she loved, her life destroyed in the fires of some terrible entity and the cruel men that danced with the flames. Days and nights turned into a blur as she dragged herself across the woods, she would die out there, she would wither away to nothing but bones. She had found a river, she looked at her reflection, she looked nothing like herself anymore, she drank from the water, it quenched her dry throat. She would die here, wouldn't she? God why her? Why did it have to be her, why couldn't she have just died at the farm, with the people she loved. Warm tears flowed from her red sore eyes. As she reached for Gabriel's pistol. “Sister? You look terrible, are you alright?” A voice came from behind her, she stopped her hand and looked over. A young woman that looked about her age was carrying a basket full of clothes. She looked remarkably like her, same hair, same eyes, same round face, although Fiona knew her face was more gaunt and unsightly. “Heavens, you look dire! Are you, no it doesn't matter, here, can you walk? My home isn't far from here!” She put down her basket and ran up to Fiona, kneeling with her and offering her a hand. “Come, you look on the verge of death, you poor soul, please let me help.” Fiona slowly got up. “Okay good, you can walk, if you need my help just say okay? My home isn't too far.” 

The young woman guided Fiona to her house, it was a nice cabin, fairly remote and homely. As she entered the main room, she noticed a Catharin Cross and beneath it a larger case with inscriptions in what appeared to her as the tongue of the church. The young woman handed her a cup of tea and brought bread for her to eat. She put some wood in the fireplace. “Names Florine, you just take it slow okay. If you need anything please let me know, I'll be preparing you something, some soup! Yes, that would work well, good nutrition.” 

Florine placed the bowl down and sat across from Fiona. “Thank you.” Fiona's voice was cracked, she hadn't talked in what felt like months. Florine looked at her closely. “No need to mention it, please eat and rest for as long as you need, have you been on the run?” Fiona looked at Florine. “I have to head south, I… I lost everything, the Soliculist have killed everyone in my village… they burned them all.” Florine put her hand over Fiona's. “I've heard whispers, it's true then. Please don't strain yourself, take it easy okay.” Florine got up from the chair. “I'll get you a change of clothes okay, the bath is just down the hall. I have to write a letter, don't worry it isn't anything bad. I didn't want to believe that the Solaire was capable of that.” 

Fiona ate slowly, every bit of soup went down like molasses, how long had it been since she ate properly? It was difficult to remember. She finished her bowl and got up, walking carefully towards the bath, a nice warm bath, something she hadn't had in so long. It was pleasant, the warm water relaxed her tensed muscles, the filth washed off her, she felt for the first time in a long time a small sense of peace. Florine wrote of Fiona's account and sealed the letter with the seal of the Holy See, she looked outside to the night sky. It would appear that the worst fears of the Church were correct about the Solaire, the firsts steps into a hell were already taken, it was not a if now, but a when the powder keg would explode. 

Florine took the envelope and placed it in her bag, she would have to take it in person to the Vatican. She didn't have any trust in the postage system of Vasseur's Republic, such sensitive information could not fall into the hands of the Solaire. The poor woman said she wanted to head south, perhaps Italia would be a good place for her, far from the madness of the Solaire. She would let her rest for some days, and she would ask her if she would like to accompany her, that seemed like a good plan. 

A few days had passed, Fiona properly introduced herself to Florine, she told her about Chapelle, about her family, about Gabriel, yet she omitted one detail. She agreed, Italia was where she wanted to get too far from what was once her home. It was agreed upon, they would travel to the Vatican. Florine had connections there that could help Fiona there. Florine walked over to the case, she opened it, the last thing she needed before heading out, a keepsake trusted to her by the Church. Fiona stepped back, as Florine held in her hands a great sword, the parrying hooks shaped in a distinctive crescent fashion like the moon, the steel white with a light hint of blue, it was an imposing weapon. Florine carried it with her, it was passed down by tradition within the Church to people with Angel Blood, in honor of the first of their ilk, the Sword Saint. “The Holy Sword Sköll.” Florine looked at Fiona and carefully handed her the sword. “You look like you could be a Sword Saint, you have the eyes for it.” Fiona held the sword, it weighed far less than what its size made it appear.