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The Story of Prince
Orrénne
1. The Renegade Royalty of Selmion
In 650 LF—six hundred and fifty years lô Fistanar, ‘before the Founders’ of the Dûrian theocracy—a baby was born to Princess Feréldin of the royal house of Selmion. Prince Orrénne was not born in a palace, but in a humble cottage. His parents, uncles, aunts and grandparents were princes and princesses: but they lived as peasants and fisherfolk in the obscure village of Andelar on the northern sea coast.
This was the Renegade Royalty of Selmion. In Orselm, the capital city, there was no king: government was in the hands of the Initiates of Gadesh. The whole country was dominated and oppressed by evil powers masquerading as gods and goddesses—and the ruling spirit over all of these was Gadesh. The most powerful human Initiate representing Gadesh was known as the Strongholder, who ruled the land with absolute authority.
Yet in the beginning Selmion had been a land of Light. It was founded in 1950 LF by Sélam, a great chieftain of the Dûrai clan which the Creator had chosen to be his Light-bearers and representatives down through the ages. Despite many failures and rebellions, the Chosen, as they were called, had continued to worship the Creator God and to receive revelations of his divine nature and power.
Down through the centuries they’d had many prophets, called ‘singers’, who sang the truth about God. Once writing was invented, these were preserved in a collection of holy scripts known as The Songs of the One, which recorded God’s deeds, laws and prophecies right back to Creation itself. One of their earliest prophecies concerned the coming of the Lightbringer, the greatest Prince of their blood—who would shine the Light of reconciliation with God among the darkened people of Malane. Another spoke of a future rift between the Chosen of the north and those of the south, which would be healed when the southerners returned wholeheartedly to their God.
Sélam was the chieftain who left the Chosen nomads in the north, and led his clan south of the Gerina Mountains to what is now the north-eastern part of the Dûrai area. There he turned his people into farmers instead of nomads, transforming their whole society. He possessed an unusual sensitivity to the shiláy, and had developed great skill in using it. He united several Lightless Dûrai tribes with the Chosen under his godly leadership, and in 1950 LF was proclaimed the first King of the Dûrai.
In the decades that followed, as peace and culture flourished in the new kingdom—and envious onslaughts were defeated—increasing numbers of Dûrai settled under Sélam’s protection in the land they named after him—‘Selmion’. Sadly, the newcomers brought their Lightless cults with them, thus sowing the seeds of the country’s later descent into darkness.
Centuries passed, and the kings of the elder Selmian line steeped themselves in witchcraft. In 1453 LF the last of them, King Daniru, founded the Cult of Gadesh and named himself Strongholder, abolishing the monarchy. With no future in the new Stronghold, the younger royal line (who had continued to honour the Creator among other gods) took ships and fled into obscurity. They brought their family’s records and royal tokens with them to the far north of Selmion, to pass on the knowledge of their royal descent to their children and grandchildren. Protected by the One, they settled in Andelar and the surrounding villages, all unknown to the Strongholder, who assumed them lost at sea.
There the Renegade Royalty of Selmion forswore the powers of darkness that enslaved their country. They re-embraced their family’s roots, offering their devotion entirely and exclusively to the One Creator God of the Chosen—the only good and worthy God they knew. He accepted their devotion and rewarded it. They prospered in exile, and there was a lightness and joy in Andelar that was not found elsewhere in Selmion.
Then in 1387 LF the long-prophesied Reunion took place, when the wanderings of the northern Chosen—still nomads after the long separation from their southern cousins—at last brought them to Andelar. At first there was incredulity on the part of the Renegade Royalty; but when they learnt of the prophecies that had been made and fulfilled, including details of their own flight—and that these ‘simple’ nomads could recite the names of the early Selmian kings word-perfect, and reel off dozens of family relationships extending down to the present day—they accepted them as the long-lost cousins they were, and there was great rejoicing.
The nomads likewise accepted the Renegades, according to the prophecies, as the senior line and therefore their tribal leaders (though this required some difficult adjustments); and some opted to stay in the Andelar area and adopt a settled lifestyle. The majority, however, returned to their nomadic ways, though they undertook to come back to Andelar at least once a year to bring tribute and submit legal cases for judgment. And they gave the Renegades the most precious gift in the little community’s existence: a copy of the Songs of the One, the written record of his deeds, his laws and his prophecies given through their singers and extending all the way back to the Creation. This, more than anything else, established the Renegade community on the solid basis of the One’s revelation of himself.
It was into this Godfearing community that Prince Orrénne was born.
2. The Childhood and Early Life of Prince Orrénne
Sadly, however, the young prince’s life was overshadowed by tragedy from the start. He was the third son of his mother, Princess Feréldin. She, like most of her family, had blond hair and light colouring; and so did her husband, Prince Condane, and their other children. However, as Orrénne grew older, it became apparent that he had a dark complexion and colouring; and agonising questions began to be asked about the boy’s paternity. There were very few among the Renegade Royalty who had dark complexions; but there were a number of black-haired young men with darker skin among the common folk. Rumours began to circulate.
Finally Prince Condane faced his wife with the issue, and demanded to know whether this was indeed his son, or if she had slept with another man. She told him she did not know whether Orrénne was his son or not; but that she had not slept with another man. To this she added an even stranger story about having had a direct, personal encounter with the One God, after which she had fallen pregnant. Condane would have found this hard to credit, had it been anyone but his utterly honest and transparent wife Feréldin telling the story.
Condane was at a loss to know what to do. However, when he reported the conversation with Feréldin to the patriarch of their community, his great-uncle Prince Mendor, the matter was taken out of his hands. The Renegades’ governing body the Privy Council met, and after much discussion to and fro, took the agonising decision to expel Feréldin and her son from their community. The reason they gave was to preserve the purity of their faith from the slightest suspicion of the immorality that was the hallmark of the cult worship all around them.
When Condane heard this, his reply was that if Feréldin and Orrénne had to leave, so would he and the rest of his family. Despite urgent attempts to dissuade him, he remained adamant; and in Orrénne’s third year the young prince began a life of double exile, both from his rightful royal status in the land, and from the Godfearing community into which he had been born.
Condane therefore left Andelar and took his family to live in Torlick,
a small village on the other side of Selmion on the shores of Lake Derath. There he was able to support his family in the only way he knew, as a fisherman. But the contrast with the warm, loving, and godly community they had left was terrible to bear. They were ostracised by their neighbours, not only as ‘foreigners’, but also because they refused to take part in
the village’s cult festivals, or offer any kind of homage to the gods. Many people refused to buy the fish Condane caught because of this, and he struggled to earn enough money for them to live on. There was also active persecution: the young lads of the village found much malicious entertainment in bullying the children of Feréldin and Condane; and also the parents.
They would overturn Condane’s barrels of fish, sabotage his boat and nets, and once even tried to set fire to their house. The youths’ parents made no attempt to restrain them, telling Condane time and again that this was all a judgment on him for refusing to honour the gods.
The stresses of this constant persecution took their toll. In fact they split the family: two of Orrénne’s brothers and one of his sisters defected to the surrounding community, abandoning their parents’ faith. Feréldin and Condane grew old before their time; in one of his letters Prince Orrénne states that his mother looked like an old lady when she was only in her mid-forties, with white hair and a face deeply lined by anxiety.
But Orrénne himself was the ray of light in their darkness. He brightened their lives with his cheerfulness and constant little acts of kindness. Despite the antogonism of their neighbours, he gained popularity in the community as well. Many stories are told of the small miracles he performed—especially in his mother’s memoirs —but one will suffice here:
A neighbouring widow, who had been particularly vicious in the lies she had spread abroad about the family, also suffered badly from joint-ail. After scrimping and saving for many years, she had accumulated enough money to buy a cure from the Votaries of Sharn, the River Goddess—who was the wife of Gadesh in the cultist pantheon. The nearest Temple of Sharn was in a town eighteen aldoret away—a distance of about 22 kilometres or 14 miles. Having no-one to take her there, she proposed to walk this distance; though, as she bitterly remarked to anyone who would listen, it would probably kill her.
The afternoon before she was due to leave, however, Orrénne visited her in her little cottage. He was then about fourteen years of age. What exactly passed between them, no-one knows; but his mother testifies that the old widow underwent a complete transformation. The next day she came to Feréldin with tears streaming down her face, and pressed into her hand the money she had saved for her cure. “Thanks to your son, I don’t need this any more,” she said. And from that day on she was a different woman. She walked straight, and she allowed no more tittle-tattle to pass her lips. But Orrénne told both his mother and the widow say nothing to anyone about what had happened. The old lady’s sudden recovery was a seven-day wonder in the village, but no-one connected it with Orrénne.
This was typical of the way he did good. He would tell the one he was helping that he was doing it only to obey his Father, and that they should not say a word to anyone. The villagers he helped thought, of course, that he was referring to Condane; and they marvelled at the young lad’s obedience. Of course, word of these good deeds did get about; but while he was still a youngster, those not immediately affected just shook their heads and dismissed the stories as exaggerations due to the boy’s popularity in the village.
When Orrénne became an adult, however, his good deeds—and his habit of bypassing the cult priests—could no longer be ignored. Time and again he healed people of illnesses that the priests had failed to cure; and the religious establishment began to take hostile notice of him. The temples—and especially the Votaries of Sharn—began to exercise their considerable power to rid themselves of this local embarrassment. Harrassment and active persecution built up to the point where both he and his family had to flee for their lives…
3. Prince Orrénne calls his Followers
Escaping at night from Torlick with all their worldly goods piled up in a wagon, it was Orrénne who urged his parents to return to Andelar. The family now consisted of Condane, Feréldin, Orrénne and his younger brother and two younger sisters. His elder siblings—two brothers and a sister—had married cultists, and by now had cut off all ties with the rest of the family. At twenty-four, Orrénne was the eldest child remaining to his parents.
Prince Condane at first strongly opposed returning to the Renegade community, arguing that it could only cause more pain and difficulty for Feréldin, and indeed for Orrénne himself. His strongest argument was that they would probably not even be admitted, having been formally exiled by the Privy Council. Prince Orrénne, however, calmly insisted with total certainty that they would be admitted, because it was his Father’s purpose at this time. Condane and Feréldin had long ago learnt whom Orrénne was referring to when he spoke of his Father; and also that it was futile to oppose these certainties of his—because they always turned out to be correct.
They therefore made the long trip back to Andelar, arriving footsore and weary on the evening of the fourth day. To Condane’s surprise, they were warmly welcomed, and there was great rejoicing when the Renegade community discovered who it was who had returned. They were given a large, comfortable cottage to live in—and oh, the joy of once again being with those who worshipped the One, and out of the dark, oppressive atmosphere of the Lightless cults!
It turned out that Prince Mendor, the former patriarch, had died some years ago; and the new patriarch, Prince Dariel, Condane’s first cousin once-removed, had long regretted their banishment, believing it to have been a judgment based on hearsay and expediency. Prayers had been said for them for many years, and—so the Renegades believed—those prayers were now answered in their return.
They soon settled down in their new home. Both Condane and Orrénne rejoiced to see the lines of care eased from Feréldin’s face as the younger children blossomed in the love and acceptance of the entire community. Condane resumed his former place in the fishing fleet—only now without the constant fear of not being able to sell enough to live. Orrénne also assisted with the fishing—but he spent many hours alone by himself in the hills above the sea. His only explanation for these absences was that he needed to spend time with his Father. The Renegades mostly accepted this odd way of referring to the One, recognising and respecting Orrénne’s deep spirituality. Some, however, shook their heads, muttering in private about this unseemly attitude of familiarity towards the great Creator God. But everyone, apart from his parents, took this form of address simply to be a figure of speech expressing his love and devotion to the One. They, however, knew that he meant it completely literally; but they kept that knowledge to themselves.
After about a year of this peaceful way of life, Prince Orrénne approached the Patriarch and asked permission to address the Privy Council. Prince Dariel was a little taken aback to receive such a request from one so young; but, recognising that Orrénne was mature for his years, he granted it. Orrénne further asked that his mother be allowed to attend. (His father was already a member.) To this the Patriarch also agreed.
Prince Orrénne’s famous speech to the Renegade Privy Council has been fully recorded elsewhere. In it he set out the Calling he believed the One had given him: to travel throughout Selmion and the other nations in the Dûrai area, healing the sick, and bringing darkened lives into the Light by preaching the love and forgiveness of the One true God.
The Council sat enthralled at the breadth and depth of this young man’s vision of the One’s compassion for his enslaved creation, and his yearning to bring Light into their darkness. In the deep silence that followed his speech, Orrénne said quietly: “Some of you may doubt whether the One would choose someone as young as me for such a great task. This is why I have asked that both my parents be present at this meeting. Ask them whether they believe the One has demonstrated his call-ing on my life.”
Questions followed, hesitantly at first, but with greater freedom as Condane and Feréldin told the Council members of the many healings Orrénne had performed, of the foreknowledge he was frequently given, and of the special love and understanding he displayed that had so often softened hearts and defused tense situations.
The Council was convinced. They gave their blessing to Orrénne—little though he needed it—and undertook to support his calling in every way they could. Several spoke of the centuries during which the Renegades had been waiting in secret for this very moment, and how it seemed the One had been preparing them for this time when what they had learned about him would be made known to the whole world. Prince Orrénne knew only too well, however, that some Council members had reservations that for the moment they dared not openly express. But a day would come in the future when those reservations would be expressed…
Now, however, began a time of active preparation for his mission. The next day he addressed the whole community, challenging especially the younger members to join him in bringing Light into the surrounding darkness. Many responded eagerly, dazzled by the vision of a higher and more meaningful calling than catching fish in Andelar! Orrénne, however, took each one aside individually to test his or her motives; and not a few returned to their homes in tears from these interviews.
Finally he selected ten young people to be his followers (or ‘torch-bearers’ in Selmian). The Ten were: Duke Harkeld, Lord Pangin, Farlon, Lady Simberel, Elanesh, the girl Neressa, Brûnar, Princess Dorla, Jerel and Tornerack. Some of the Renegades noticed that he had passed over all of those with high standing in the community, including everyone in direct line of descent, who might possibly have been claimants to the long-lost throne. Instead, he had chosen the humbler members, including some of the common folk who served the Renegades. They shrugged, and put this down to his desire to identify with the ordinary people he would be seeking to reach.
With the Council’s permission they were released from their normal daily work, and for three months Orrénne instructed them, prayed with them, and prepared them for the hard life ahead. Condane and Feréldin watched in sadness, more aware than any others in that community what a dark and dangerous road their best-beloved son had chosen…
4. Prince Orrénne Travels the Lands Announcing the Kingdom of Light
First Phase
The Prince traversed the Selmian countryside with his followers, healing the sick and declaring forgiveness and new life from the One Creator God.
When he knew his time had come, Prince Orrénne set out from Andelar with his followers. (This was in 625 LF, when he was 25 years of age.) They travelled from village to village, and in each place Orrénne would first heal the sick, and then speak very simply to the villagers about the Light and Love of the One Creator God, and how they could enter that Light. He used everyday examples and analogies that spoke to people in terms they could understand. Many were healed, and many entered the Light and abandoned their heathen practices.
After a while he began dividing his followers up into groups of two or three, and sending them on their own to several surrounding villages while he continued his ministry at a central location. They, too, healed the sick and preached the coming of the Light, with similar results.
His fame spread like wildfire. Large crowds gathered wherever he was, and hundreds of sick and demon-possessed people pressed around him and his followers, anxiously seeking deliverance. None were turned away, and all who came were both healed and set free.
Naturally the priests and attendants of the cults were not at all pleased by this growing popular movement—but they were also desperately afraid of it. It seemed to be spreading so fast, and attracting so many people. Most bitter of all, they were forced to recognise that at its centre was a power greater than theirs. The Votaries of Sharn in the town of Ornave put this to the test, and suffered the consequences. They placed the most dread curse they knew on Orrénne—the Curse of Futility. Its effects were to blight all the victim did, bring his every effort to nothing, lead all his thoughts to confusion, and quickly reduce his life to the final futility of death.
The news of this curse was brought to Orrénne while he was teaching the people in a village just outside the town. It was first whispered to one of his followers, who turned ashen and rushed trembling to inform his master. Orrénne heard what the man was stammering, but did not interrupt what he was saying. Soon everyone in the crowd had heard the news too, and there was a deathly hush as all stared at the doomed preacher. Would he fall dead at once, or just lose the thread of his discourse? He did neither. As they listened to what he was saying, they realised that in quiet, confident tones he was assuring them that darkness has no power over Light: that Light penetrates darkness and overcomes it, not the other way round. And that those who try to use darkness as a weapon to overcome Light, will themselves be overcome. That evening it was learnt that of the six Votaries of Sharn in Ornave, two were dead, three were mortally ill, and the remaining one appeared to have lost all competence to run the temple. The curse had rebounded on its perpetrators.
Second Phase
The Prince preached in Selmian towns, publicly denouncing the false gods, and their temples, shrines, and immoral practices. In doing so, he stated publicly for the first time that he was the Son of the One Creator God.
The incident of the Curse of Futility, occurring in the third year of Prince Orrénne’s public ministry (622 LF), marked a significant turning point. The story was repeated far and wide, and it was clear that the battle lines had been drawn: the whole country was watching to see who would win, the powerful cults of the gods, or the humble country preacher.
Orrénne left Ornave and went into the countryside, where he spent a whole night in prayer. Then he took his followers aside and talked to them about what must follow. Some tried to dissuade him, and all were fearful; but he calmed them, and then prayed with them. They felt the strength and power of the One flowing into them, and were ready for the conflict.
The next day they walked to the nearby town of Norest, followed by a large crowd of country people eager to see what would happen. There was a temple to Minórre, god of the harvest, in the market square of the town. Orrénne stood on the steps of the temple and began to preach, while his followers joined hands around him and prayed. The crowd of country folk was soon swelled by many of the townspeople who stopped to listen. He preached a stinging sermon denouncing the priests of Minórre for living off the sacrificial gifts of the poor, and defrauding them by promising bountiful harvests and abundant wealth in return—promises which were never kept.
Many heads were nodding in the crowd. The priests’ greed and laziness were notorious—and who had ever really benefitted from the offerings they made in the temple? The only reason most people kept on doing so was to ward off any penalty they might suffer for not honouring the god.
In the midst of this, a group of white-robed priests came bustling out of the temple and loudly ordered Orrénne to stop “disturbing the people” and leave. They were accompanied by a couple of the town militia. Orrénne whirled to face them, pointing an accusing finger. “You dare to accuse me of disturbing the people?” he cried. “You workers of evil, you instruments of wickedness! You, who are enslaved by the dark power you call your god—you are the ones who are disturbing the people! You pretend to offer them peace and prosperity, while all the time you lie and cheat and rob and blind them!” The fury in his voice startled even his followers. The priests cowered before him, not finding any reply. Then in a great bellow that rang across the square he shouted, “Get out of my sight, foul demon of deceit! Get out of this town, and never return!”
The priests leapt off the steps and away from Prince Orrénne as if struck by whips. He strode after them, continuing to denounce the demon they served. They turned and fled. Two fell, and were later found to have died. Orrénne pursued the rest to the town entrance, where they continued running past the open-mouthed militia and into the countryside.
Orrénne returned with the awe-struck crowd to the town square, where he spoke to them quietly of the Way of the One—who offered them, not physical prosperity for a price, but spiritual peace that was beyond any price, yet cost nothing. Many came to him to be healed, and many were delivered from demons.
The priests of Minórre never returned to Norest, and their temple fell into disrepair.
There were similar incidents in other towns, as Prince Orrénne confronted each and every evil cult in the land. All wilted before him, unable to withstand the light and power of the One living God. His fame and following continued to grow as he became a living legend in Selmion.
Later that year Orrénne purified the great Festival of Borlaze, the love god, in Ormanel—which was normally one vast sexual orgy. He drove out the demon of lust and his priests and attendants, making a public display of their powerlessness before him; and turned the festival instead into an ‘orgy’ of healing, deliverance, and teaching about the Way. It was there that he first publicly stated that he was the Son of the One true God; and that he alone was the Way out of darkness and into the Light.
This declaration of Prince Orrénne’s was reported to the Renegade Royalty in Andelar, where it caused grievous confusion and dissension. Some were so convinced of the rightness of Orrénne’s cause that they felt he could do or say no wrong. Others—including those on the Privy Council who had hidden their former doubts—now spoke up and declared that they had never been sure of his mission from the start: and this blasphemous statement now proved that it was not from the One. The Council was split down the middle.
Eventually, however, the doubters began to gain the upper hand; despite urgent pleas by the Princes Dariel and Condane, they voted to disown him. His parents were heartbroken. A messenger was sent to Orrénne’s followers, with the command that those who wished to remain faithful to the Renegade Privy Council should abandon Orrénne at once as a dangerous heretic. Two of them did—Jerel and Lady Simberon; and this, as well as the news of his rejection by his own people, caused Orrénne deep pain.
The Strongholder, meanwhile, was mustering his forces to strike a decisive blow against Orrénne. At first he had contemptuously dismissed the country preacher as a seven-day wonder who would soon disappear once he seriously antagonised the cults. Now, however, the cults were in total disarray, while the preacher still walked scot-free! He needed to act quickly, and was desperately afraid that he, like the cults, might fail—especially as the entire populace seemed to have come over to the preacher’s side.
Then one of the two followers who had abandoned Orrénne fell into his hands. Under torture Jerel revealed all he knew. (This was in the days before the development of mindbending.) The Strongholder now discovered for the first time the existence of the Renegades in Andelar—the upstart preacher’s family and obvious weak point. He decided to strike a blow so devastating that it would rob the preacher of all will to continue—and not only the preacher, but his core followers as well, all of whom hailed from the same place.
Image by Leehu Zysberg
So the Strongholder wiped out the Renegade community. Every living being in Andelar was massacred, including Orrénne’s parents, Condane and Feréldin, and his younger brother and sisters. His older siblings were tracked down in Torlick and put to death. Only a handful of the lesser royalty who were not in the village at the time survived: the royal line that culminated in King Nomariu (Estaron) was traced from one of these. After the massacre they managed to rescue some of the documents of the community, together with Princess Feréldin’s memoirs. These were later given to Orrénne, who in turn handed them over to his followers, together with his own writings.
With all the senior Renegades slaughtered, Orrénne was now the only legal Heir to the Selmian throne. But this barbaric atrocity was almost the Strongholder’s undoing…
Third Phase
Prince Orrénne went to other lands with his followers, where he travelled about teaching the Way of the One.
The whole country was up in arms about the massacre of Andelar, and thousands flocked to Prince Orrénne, offering to fight for him so that he could claim his rightful place as King—because his royalty was now common knowledge. Far from weakening the upstart preacher and making him easier to capture, the Strongholder’s action had exactly the opposite effect. He quaked in terror behind the high walls of Orselm, wondering how long even they could protect him from the people’s wrath.
However at this triumphant moment, when he was at the very height of his popularity in Selmion, and could easily have raised the whole country against the powers of darkness that ruled them and seized the throne for himself—Prince Orrénne left. In 622 LF, taking his followers, he travelled the long road to Dûrion, and began preaching his message there.
Many said that grief at his family’s death had overwhelmed him, and he had lost heart; but this was not so. He certainly was deeply grieved, and spent long hours in prayer after hearing the news. But that was not the reason for his departure. As became abundantly clear later—and as he himself explained over and again to his followers, though they were slow to understand—his Way was not the way of seizing power by force. He turned aside from earthly acclaim and from earthly victory, and went into obscurity for the sake of God’s acclaim, and God’s victory.
After a year travelling the highways and byways of Dûrion, Prince Orrénne moved on to Thrinar, and from there to the other Dûrai kingdoms. It is said that he even visited Khrellárre. In some lands he was warmly received, in others less so, but nowhere did he stay long enough to raise the country in revolt against its rulers.
He went last to Bellarniar and preached to the despised Dorbians, where he was immediately accepted, and the entire tribe entered the Light. They were the only people who fully converted to his Way, and changed their whole lifestyle as a result.
The Prince spent five years in this wider ministry. Then he returned to Selmion.
Fourth Phase
He returned to Selmion, apparently to defeat the evil powers that ruled it, but in fact to offer himself as a sacrifice for the people.
When Prince Orrénne arrived back in his country in 617 LF, it was with an increased following from all the surrounding lands. Word spread like wildfire that he had returned—and thousands rallied to his cause. He made a triumphant progress through the land to Orselm, with more and more ordinary people flocking to join him all the time. When he finally arrived one evening at the gates of the capital city, tens of thousands were gathered behind him, expecting him to enter in triumph, destroy the cult rulers, and proclaim himself their King. Even the soldiers mustered by the terrified Strongholder to defend the city dropped their weapons and joined the multitude behind Orrénne.
That night, as on the previous nights of his royal progress through the land, self-appointed ‘servants of the King’ spread an awning and laid down mats for him and his followers. They also brought chairs and a low table and lamps, and then scurried off to prepare food for the ‘royal party’. But Orrénne, who had been quiet and withdrawn all day, beckoned to his followers, and, plucking a burning brand from one of the nearby fires, led them apart to a secluded hollow. There he bade them gather firewood and lay a fire; and when it was ready, he thrust the brand into it. As the wood began to catch light, he sat down beside the fire and gestured to his followers to do likewise. They held out their hands to warm themselves. Clouds darkened the sky, and a cold wind blew.
As they sat in a circle around the fire, Prince Orrénne spoke for the last time with his followers. He told them yet again that it was not his Father’s purpose for him to gain an earthly kingdom by force. They tried to remonstrate with him, but he said, “I have a different road to travel that you do not understand now, but one day you will. Will you follow me down that road?” They all assured him earnestly that they would. He smiled sadly and said, “Yet it’s a fact that tomorrow I will enter Orselm alone. No-one will follow me, not even you.” Their protests became indignant as they pointed to the thousands of campfires dotted all over the plain that lay before the gates of Orselm.
“Yes, they light up the darkness, don’t they?” he said. “ ‘Flame turns the dark to light,’ ” he continued, quoting the well-known Selmian proverb referring to the painful (‘burning’) process of making restitution for wrongs done and restoring good relations between friends. “Remember this in the days to come: As I enter Orselm, I will take your darkness to the fire in my own body, and the flames will consume it, and turn it into Light. Take my Light to replace your darkness. Will you do this? I will burn for you; will you shine for me?”
His followers nodded hesitantly, not at all sure what he was getting at.
“You find this hard to understand now,” he continued, “but in future it will all become clear. Whenever you gaze at the flames of a fire, remember my body, burnt for you; and remember my Light, shining in you for all to see.”
In the silence that followed he took the hands of those sitting on either side of him, and invited everyone else around the circle to hold hands as well. There was a deep sadness in his eyes as he let his gaze travel from one to the other and said, “I need to feel your hands now, because I need to know your nearness. A time of great darkness and sorrow is coming, but remember what I have said tonight: Flame turns the dark to Light.”
In the days that followed they remembered it. This simple sentence and the silence that followed became known as the Limmeris Narac, the Remembrance of Flame, which has been observed by the Prince’s followers from earliest times to commemorate his death.
They all then returned to the ‘royal’ awning and ate the food their anxious servitors had been trying to keep warm. Afterwards Orrénne spent some time sitting at the table, writing his letter To My People, which is included in the Book. He handed the sheets to his follower Duke Harkeld, bidding him keep them safe; then he went out into the night to pray, as he so often did.
The next morning dawned bright, but cold. The awning, mats and furniture were removed at an early hour by the servants of the King; and the huge crowd soon started gathering around Prince Orrénne and his followers, all buoyant and optimistic and clamouring for action.
Then Orrénne made his famous Speech of Renunciation. Walking the short distance to the city walls—which were still unmanned, such was the Strongholder’s desperate condition—he climbed up on to a bastion of the ancient masonry, where all could see him. There he declared in a ringing voice to the thousands who had rallied to his cause, that he would not lead them into the city. He would not use force to gain an earthly kingdom.
“As your King,” he said, “and as the Son of the One who is King over all kings, I have a higher duty to perform. All your lives you have offered sacrifices to your gods, and little good it has done you. Now, however, I offer myself as your final sacrifice to the One true God. In this way I will obtain for you a far greater freedom than if I merely became your earthly king. Which would you rather have?” he cried: “Peace forever under the King of Heaven, or peace for a few short years under the king of Selmion?”
There were a few confused shouts in response, but most of the vast crowd was stunned. Gradually what he was saying began to sink in, and the shouts became louder—all urging Orrénne to lead them into the city and overthrow the Strongholder. Again he refused, repeating what he had said before. The crowd began to turn angry. Orrénne’s followers melted away, too confused themselves to know how to act in this situation. Still Orrénne refused the people’s demands to lead them into the city. Those at the outskirts of the crowd began to drift away. The exodus became a steady stream, and then a flood. Soon there were only a few hundreds left shouting at Orrénne—and finally they, too, began to split into smaller groups and leave, still turning from time to time to shout and shake their fists at the supposed ‘Deliverer’ who had given them such high hopes, only to dash them at the last moment.
Suddenly the gates of the city opened, and out charged the Strongholder’s personal mounted guard, whom he had kept in reserve within the city. The remnants of the crowd took to their heels and fled, while Orrénne stepped down into the road and knelt in the dust, with his hands on his head in a gesture of submission. They seized him roughly and dragged him stumbling behind one of the horses into the city.
Of his followers there was no sign.
5. The Death, Regeneration and Rising of Prince Orrénne
The Strongholder could hardly believe his good fortune. Where a few hours earlier he had been in an agony of terror at the imminent invasion of his city, now his would-be supplanter had inexplicably allowed himself to be captured! The Heir to the Selmian throne had simply fallen into his hands.
He organised a great trial in the central square of Orselm. News of it spread far and wide, and on the day thousands turned up—some with a faint hope that Prince Orrénne might at last exercise his known power and overthrow the evil regime of the Cult of Gadesh. In fact, he did not once open his mouth even to defend himself during the farce that followed. He was accused of a whole array of evil acts, and made out to be a charlatan and deceiver of honest people; though not even his enemies believed those lies. But most important, from the Strongholder’s standpoint, were the two charges that were brought against him: He was charged with blasphemy against the gods; and with high treason against the state for having raised an army against the legally constituted government.
He was, of course, found guilty on both counts. His speech renouncing any claim to the throne, and refusing to seize it by force, was ignored—though it had been heard by thousands. No voice was raised in the crowd to protest this fact. By gathering an army, his accusers claimed, he had not only committed high treason, but had invalidated his claim to the ancient throne—which in any case, his accusers scoffed, had long ago been abolished. He was therefore now to be treated as an ordinary commoner, subject to the normal penalty for treason: death.
Furthermore, the penalty for his other ‘crime’ of blasphemy against the gods, was to be offered as a human sacrifice to whatever god his family served. In Orrénne’s case, this was obviously the Creator. The two penalties would therefore be combined. However, there was no temple to the Creator in Orselm (or, indeed, anywhere in Selmion); it was therefore decreed that the sacrifice would take place in the Temple of Gadesh.
So in the year 614 LF Prince Orrénne was offered as a sacrifice to the One Creator God, and died the terrible death of a Selmian traitor, by public dismemberment. Hundreds gathered in the great Temple of Gadesh in the centre of Orselm to watch the event, while thousands more thronged the square outside.
Orrénne was stripped naked and his chest, wrists, thighs and ankles were strapped tightly to a sturdy wooden board, braced at the back, facing the audience. It stood to the left of the altar in a wide, shallow stone basin to catch the blood. A fire was lit on the altar; and then the dismemberment began. As each part of his body was cut off, it was thrown on to the fire. Orrénne did not cry out from the physical pain, though his face was contorted and drained of colour by the agony of it; but instead he prayed for his executioners and for the people, looking up to heaven for as long as he was able. However, towards the end, he seemed to suffer greater and greater spiritual anguish; until he cried out in torment, “Father, my Father—why have You hidden Your face from me?!” He repeated this several times with increasing agony.
At the end, as life drained out of him, those nearby heard his final words: “Father, I commit myself to You.” Then he died, and the disfigured remnants of his body were thrown on the fire.
After the dismemberment, the fire on the altar in the Temple of Gadesh was left to burn out—only it did not. Witnesses said that twelve hours later the fire was still burning; then it grew brighter, and in the midst of it they could see Orrénne’s body slowly re-forming. The head and torso appeared, as though suspended in the flames; then, as the fire brightened, arms and legs seemed slowly to materialise, attached to the torso; and finally feet and hands, with the fingers stretched out. When the blaze filled the temple, consuming the entire altar and reaching even to the lofty ceiling, the dazzled eyes of the watchers could dimly make out, standing on the altar amid the flames, the radiant figure of a man. His head and arms were lifted up to heaven, and his body was shining as though made of pure light. Through the roar of the fire he cried out in a voice like thunder, “Father, let Your Light break through!” In that moment the altar and the roof of the temple collapsed in a mighty avalanche of falling timber and masonry. The watchers fled for their lives. Later it was found that every altar in every temple in the city had been reduced to rubble, and many of the buildings themselves had collapsed.
When the priests and Initiates of Gadesh dared to creep into the smouldering ruins of their temple the next day, not the slightest remains of the ashes of Prince Orrénne were to be found on the broken slab of the altar.
Thereafter he was seen by his followers on many occasions in a body of light—which they could nevertheless see and touch. He was dressed as he always had been, but though they could touch his hands, face and feet, and feel their physical reality, they shone with a Light that was not of this world.
Prince Orrénne told them to hold to the Truth he had taught them, until his Father’s Light had flooded all the lands—and then he would return. He warned them, however, that there was a long and lonely road ahead. The people would not easily abandon their darkness for his Light; and his followers would need much patience and perseverance in the days to come. But they should follow the Way he had shown them, and travel the roads of all lands preaching his message of openness to the One’s Unshadowed Light.
To prepare them for this great task, Orrénne gathered all His followers together and blessed them. He held His hands out as though to embrace them all, and it seemed as they watched that His whole body became filled with Light. The glorious, heavenly Light streamed out from Him to them, and as they received it, each was filled with warmth, and joy, and an overwhelming sense of the greatness and power of the One. They started spontaneously praising Him, each in a different lan-guage that they had not known before. From that moment the Light remained with them as a brightness and joy within, ever-ready to overflow to those around them.
Then, as his followers watched in awe, a shaft of sunshine opened through the roof of the building in which they were gathered. He was lifted up before them, and with his arms still outstretched to include them all in his love, he rose into the Light and was seen no more in the world.