The Angel in Hafnagarta

A Theletos Cascade Tale

Upriver of the Latium Trading Outpost
Colonial Governate of Nova Aquitania
Westernmost Settlement of the Roman Empire
Late Summer, 1827 αAD


The family had only recently made the treacherous voyage across the mysterious Atlas Ocean, simply on the hushed rumour that the colonies had survived the waning contact and collapsing trade with the troubled Empire back in Europa. The risk was that the public officials were claiming that the colonies were a failure and the seemingly endless new continent was a Godless place - not worth the trouble. "Abandoning Roma!" they shouted. There was even word going around that the Emperor in the West himself fully intended to blockade the Pillars of Heracles over miscellaneous claims of 'wasted resources' and 'dumping our ducats into the bottomless sea'. This, naturally, caused tensions to rise with his counterpart in Constantinople who rightly and very publicly surmised that he simply didn't want his center of power to flow out and across the ocean and away from his grasp.

Tensions then began to boil.

Many trickled away from the coasts of Roma like this on small vessels, those who could avoid the increasing patrols at least.

The family was astounded to discover that the colonies dotted along the coast of the continent had in fact, been thriving and growing rapidly. Trade had been flourishing with the oddly welcoming relic that was the self-named people of the Rike of Vinland - Norsemen of some sort who had been isolated from their peoples in Europa for centuries. They had named the continent "Hrafnagarðr" - the Roman colonists however, had some troubles with the pronunciations of the Vinlander's language and had approximated it to "Hafnagarta".

There were also the populations of Tribesmen who had supposedly inhabited the continent prior to the Vinlander's arrival, who were an integral guide for navigating the endless rivers, lakes, and forests. Having already set up trade networks made the construction of infrastructure go much more smoothly.

The family had been granted a plot of land just across the Katakos River, where they finally settled after the grueling journey.

Grandfather, at the head of the dinner table in their newly built log home, leading the family in prayer, tonight, he decides, will be a different prayer. Whether reminiscing on stories of the past that his grandfather would tell him as a young boy, or that he could simply sense the changing of the times in this new place. Yet something about the lands, and the people who inhabit them, evokes something more ancient.

"Tonight, I would like us to give thanks to the old protector of the woods, the provider of this here timber we constructed our new home, our new lives, with. The Angel Faunniel. May he watch over this family, and may the sounds of his soft flute comfort our people as they explore this vast wild nature that expands beyond the rivers and lakes."

"Amen." The family said in unison, not reacting particularly differently to the new prayer.

Later, after their meal, Grandfather decided to elaborate and regale the children with the tale of this so called "Angel Faunniel". He told them of the ancient protector of the farmers of Italia long before even Romulus and Remus, of his many names and faces across Europa, of his time as King of the Latins and ascension to a protector of nature, the turbulence brought on by the arrival of Christus. Of his eventual reconciliation and rebirth after millennia wandering Europa as a Watcher - "the gods of old", of how the Archangel Uriel himself returned his wings to him, and through the Trinity, granted him the Heavenly Rank of Virtues for his custodial duties.

The sons and daughters simply went along with the story and sort of chuckled it off as the musings of an old man who reads too many books. The children however, were enthralled by this tale, asking questions incessantly and wishing to see depictions of this angel, as they do not recall seeing any statues or Icons of him back before they set out on their journey here. Grandmother, who had mostly been silent, presented the children with a small figure made of twigs and moss, vaguely in the shape of an Angel.

"This will have to do for now. We will have a statue made in time, once the quarry up north is operational next Spring where your father will be working." Grandfather told them, gesturing to his eldest son, the elder of the children's father.

The next week, there was erected a small wooden shrine where the Effigy of the Angel was placed.

Outskirts of the Town of Latium Occidentis
Governate of Nova Aquitania
Novum Regnum Remanon
Early Spring, 1862 αAD


Many changes had come to the fledgling Kingdom who had only been established some 30-odd years earlier. The final fleet of refugees from Europa had arrived more than 15 years ago. A large population of mostly Greek-speaking settlers from the Eastern half of the former Empire, looking to escape the seemingly endless series of Civil Wars despite the Atlas Ocean becoming increasingly impassable over the last few decades.

The guiding hand and influence of the Vinlanders was quite noticeable, with the two nations having become very close allies, so close in fact that there were some rumours spreading of a future dynastic union between the Crowns. The exchange of religious, scientific, agricultural, and architectural ideas, among many other fields, was necessary to surviving the harsh and endless wilderness of the continent.

The eldest son of the first King of New Remanon had recently taken the throne. Taking after the Rike to the north, tribesmen of the lands, and the sect of Christianity his bloodline - who hailed from the former Governate of Hibernia - had followed for centuries, fully codified the understanding of a more complex and nuanced view of Christianity. For the layman, this simply meant that there would no longer be toleration for persecution nor ostracization for the way the people worshiped and practiced their religion. An attempt to reaffirm the Kingdom's main tenet - that of renewal through the old. Respect for the entirety of the past, yet built-in fluidity to weather the tides of the future.

The marble statue stood in the center atrium of the family's residence. A light drizzle of spring rain trickled through the open roof and onto the tile floor and small pool at its feet. Grandfather's gift to the family. An angel with a halo of vines and flowers, a small flute held out in one hand, the other resting upon the head of a woodcutting axe going through a loop on the waist of his flowing robes. His feathery wings tucked neatly behind his back.

Flowers and plants hung all over the atrium, a small offering table rested at the edge of the tile floor, just under the overhang of the roof as to not get wet when it rained. On it was placed various candles, fruits, fresh milk, honey, a painted Icon of Faunniel in a frame - and the small twig figure Grandmother had given them when they were small.

Something stirred within that silent home. A soft, warm yellow glow poured through the atrium opening amidst the dull rainy backdrop of the cloudy sky.

A soft melody under the rain, a content hum.

City of Latium Occidentis
Governate of Nova Aquitania
Novum Regnum Remanon
Winter, 1897 αAD


The castle manor stood at the end of a winding lane on the edge of the city, built by the grandsons and their sons upon the foundation of the old family home. The city had expanded along the river quite a ways, and the Kingdom had grown it's borders far to the west. A series of gargantuan walls built running northeast to southwest for defensive purposes - commissioned by each Governate under the edict of the King and continually constructed and expanded over the course of 40 years. As stories from the nomadic tribesmen informed of the horrors that inched closer and closer along the gulf to the south and through the deserts and plains of the southwest.

The Vinlanders also spoke of some strange groups emerging out of the far northeast as well that may be a threat someday. The two Kingdoms were bracing for something.

Memory of the Old World had slowly faded into rumour and speculation with no news nor visitors coming across the ocean again. Volcanos to the north made sure none would pass the black and smoky barrier along the Atlas Ocean.

Churches, shrines, and monuments had been erected all across the nation, dedicated to all manner of Saints, Angels, increasingly varied depictions of The Trinity, as well as some strange amalgamations of Vinlander and Tribespeople deities and spirits.

The family statue of Faunniel was placed atop a large marble pillar overlooking the manor on the domed roof of the small chapel they had constructed on the property.

One of the great grandsons was petitioning with the city's leaders to have a duplicate placed along the latest border wall expansion. As many groups and families involved had been doing, lining the walls with many "protector" statues and carvings.

Rare for this region, snow fell in the late hours of the evening, and not a soul on the property. The snowflakes melting upon contact with the statue.

The warm glow.

Wings outstretched after a long slumber.

The soft melody of a flute echoing throughout the deep, dark, and silent winter forest beyond the manor.