The Story of the Martyr Oleo & King Evyn of Elon
Recorded in the town of Dovwynn in the Kingdom of Elon, Winter in the year of 817 of the Prophet
Many years ago in an unknown savage kingdom of the north a peasant boy was born and named Oleo, which means Under Heaven. During those years barbaric slavers and savage warriors sailed along the coasts, raiding villages and kidnapping the peasants into slavery. Oleo was still very young when the raiders attacked his town and he was torn from his homelands and sold to the Empire. For many years he was passed from owner to owner and endured terrible brutality and hardships, until eventually he fell into the hands of a Priest of the Vaekirate, called Brother Saraevyn. As might be expected after a childhood of slavery, Oleo was fearful before the priest and trembled before him.
“Fear not,” the Brother said, “I am a priest of Aed a member of the Vaekirate. We despise the practice of slavery, for it degrades the dignity of man. You are now free my son, may Aed give you the strength to find a life better than that you’ve had and show you an honorable duty under his eyes.”
Oleo was speechless a moment, “I have heard of Aed, but know little of your faith. I am grateful to you and wish to do as you say, but I do not know how.”
“If you wish it, come with me,” Saraevyn said, “There is room at my temple for another acolyte and I will teach you all you wish to know.”
So Oleo returned with Saraevyn to the temple and the priest taught him as if he were his own son. With an eager heart the young man embraced all he learned, finding dignity and seeking a purpose with faithful prayers.
“I feel in my heart that Aed has a great mission for me, but all is dark before me,” he told Brother Saraevyn, “I yearn with all my soul to do as the lord desires, but how can I when he will not show me the path?”
“Have faith Brother Oleo, pray and be patient. I too feel that you will do great things for our lord. He will show you your way in good time.”
Some years later, when Oleo was twenty-four years old, he was traversing the lands delivering a message between Saraevyn and a Brother priest. He stopped at an inn along the coast and happened to overhear a conversation between a weathered sea captain and a traveling minstrel.
“I have just come from a long journey sailing into the far north,” the captain said, “It wares the soul thin to be in those lands, where none but savages and pagans breathe life. I stopped in a kingdom there and was truly appalled by the godlessness of those who live there.”
The captain spoke the kingdom’s name and Oleo’s heart caught a beat, for it was the name of his own homeland, nearly forgotten to him over the long hard years.
“Pardon my interruption,” he said, stepping closer, “You say you’ve been to this kingdom and spoke with the people there?”
“Aye, so I have. What it is to you, Brother?”
“Was the land truly so godless as you say?” Oleo asked and he felt his heart aching even as he thought of it.
“It was and worse. They would rip a slip of a faith-speaker like your right apart, by the Sword they would.”
“No, no they shall not,” Oleo said, “You see those people are my brothers. They are my own blood and you have opened my eyes. I dare say Captain I could kiss you!”
“I’d rather you didn’t boy,” the captain said, starting back slightly.
“Then I shall not, but Aed’s blessing on you and your kin forever and ever!” and so saying Oleo hurried away and made his way quickly home.
His joy was stalled, however, when his discovered Saraevyn lying feverish on a sick bed when he returned.
“Father, (I call you such for who else have I but you?) my heart bleeds and yet burns. I have found my duty, my mission in life, but how can I leave you when you are sick?”
“My son, don’t be feared for my life. I am happy to have done my duty by you and all others seeking God at this temple, but tell me what path the lord has lit before you.”
And Oleo told Saraevyn of what he had heard in the roadside inn. “It is clear as daylight to me now,” he said, his eyes bright, “I shall travel north and take the faith to my own lost people. I am certain that such is my mission.”
“I believe it is,” Saraevyn said, “Please, go fetch the jar from the shelf yonder.”
Oleo did so and upon Saraevyn’s command opened it and looked inside. Several gleaming coins of gold shone within the jar, glinting in the evening sun shining through Saraevyn’s window.
“Brother,” gasped Oleo, “Where has all this money come from?”
“I have saved it, over the years,” Saraevyn said, “I did not know for what purpose, but I knew in my heart that the time would come when Aed would have need of it. I also knew that it would be through you that it would serve the lord. I told you I believed there to be a great purpose for you. Now I see what it will be and it gives peace to my soul. Take the gold and make all the arrangements you must to travel north.”
“I can not go while you are sick,” Oleo said.
“My son,” Saraevyn said, “It is sinful to hesitate or waver in your duty, whatever the reason. You must never do so, not even for me. Stay strong and stubborn in your way, now that you can see it clear before. Do not let your enemies, or even your loved ones stop you, or hold you back. Kiss me now and say goodbye, remember me fondly in your prayers but do not be anxious for my life.”
Oleo was saddened and his heart was torn, but he did as he was bid and left the temple the next day.
Using the gold Saraevyn had given him, Oleo arranged for two ships and a crew of stout sailors and other missionary companions to travel with him across the seas to the kingdom of his birth. However, hardly had they set sail when they were beset by difficulties. Great storms rose up and beat at the ships, lashing them with rain and waves. Thrown off course, one of the ships was lost completely and it was by a slim hair that the second managed to make its way to a northern port still afloat.
This was not the kingdom of Oleo’s home, but another northern land, known as Elon and ruled by a fierce and infamous pagan king, called Evyn Christallo.
“We are surly done for,” bemoaned Oleo’s companions as they were escorted to the castle keep, “We survived the storms, only to be slaughtered on the alter of some fowl spirit-god.”
“Have faith!” replied Oleo, “Aed shall not abandon us.”
And so it was. King Evyn welcomed the missionaries gracefully, with a civil but strange cordiality. “Your ship is rotted, your ores broken and all your sails are torn,” noted Evyn, “It’s a wonder you ever made port. Where did you hope to go?”
“I seek the land of my birth,” Oleo said, “It is my mission from the One true God to bring his message to those who are of my blood, however savage they might be.”
“Is it?” asked Evyn and chuckled slightly, “It seems the gods do not agree, since your ships are wrecked.”
“Even so!” agreed Oleo’s companions, “Our only prayer now is to return home.”
“Not so,” disavowed Oleo, “I shall not be swayed. If I have to swim the rest of the way, I will follow the duty set before me!”
King Evyn raised his eyebrows but said nothing more on the subject. “You may rest here,” he told the sailors and Oleo’s companions, “We shall help you repair your ship in order that you may return to your southern Empire.”
And so for many weeks they were guests in the castle of Elon. Compared to Southern graces and noble connivances, it was a bare and simple place. There were few servants to wait upon them, but even fewer waited upon the king and his family. Evyn was generous and soft-spoken, but had little etiquette and a stern almost brutal honesty about him, which displayed in both a savage bloodlust and a compassionate heart.
“It’s a servile and barbaric place,” the ship captain told Oleo, “We will be better off back south.”
But Oleo remained committed to his mission.
Finally the ship was repaired and the captain and all Oleo’s companions prepared to sail home. King Evyn stood with Oleo on the wharf and watched. “Is your mind still set?” he asked, “Will you go with your people back to your southern lands, or will you be swimming on alone?”
Oleo scowled, assuming the king was mocking him. “I know my mission. I will not leave. I know that some how Aed will show me my way. This ship sails south without me.”
King Evyn watched him and said nothing. But once the ship had gone, he came to Oleo and motioned to him. “Follow me.”
Perplexed, Oleo followed him to where another ship set at dock, newly completed by the Elon shipmasters. “I have said nothing of this, because I doubted your word and I apologize for that,” Evyn said, “But when I heard your determination at your arrival I gave orders that this ship be made ready for you.” The king gave a rueful smile, “It is named
Stubborn. Take it with my blessing. These sailors will be at your command and take you wherever your God decrees.”
Stuck by this turn of fortune and generosity, Oleo fell to his knees and praised Aed with joyful prayers.
Evyn watched impassively. “Yes, thank your God,” he said once Oleo was done, “Maybe then he will not strike you down with storms, or allow your friends to abandon you on strange shores.”
“It was all a test,” Oleo said, “A test of my faith, but also a proof that I am justified in my duty. Today I have seen the glory of god in the heart pagan savages. You don’t know God, King Evyn, but today He has worked his will though you. The nobility of your heart is greater than the weak willed men who abandoned me today.”
“Indeed,” Evyn said, “Now go while the sun shines. These are dangerous times. War is stirring in the north and dangerous raiders rage along the coasts, praying upon those weaker than they. And do not expect a welcome in the land you seek. I know the king there and his heart is a rotten apple.”
Oleo nodded, then taking the ship Stubborn, made his way safely to the shores he sought. As foretold, he met a cold reception from the king and his warlords, but managed to establish himself among a village a common people, who converted to the faith of Aed with happy hearts. For many years Oleo lived among them, teaching and praying and building the faith. The king of that land, however, grew ever more wary of the missionary’s presence and often sent threats by the hands of warriors, who stormed through the village, breaking and smashing anything in there path and tearing down the temples Oleo built.
“Leave, or you shall find yourself at the bitter end of the king’s wroth,” they told him, but Oleo refuses to go, remaining stubborn in his mission.
At the same time the savage sea-lords were raiding with grate strength and ferocity along the coasts, burning towns and taking slaves of all sorts. One of the most feared warlords at the time was Fritjof the Frigid who commanded many ships and warriors. The king of the country feared him greatly and when Fritjof struck his shore, he sent a messenger to him.
“Great lord of the seas, I can only acknowledge your power over these waters and coast lands. Slaves and wealth is you want and I know you shall have them, but allow me to make you an offer...” When the raiders and the king’s men struck in unison, Oleo and the people of his town had no idea what was happening. Before mothers could finish gathering their children about them, the town had been conquered and the people were dragged into the streets and their homes looted of all valuables and then burned.
“Here is your tribute, slaves and wealth as promised,” the king told Fritjof, “Take them. Fill your ships and be on your way.”
Fritjof laughed in the king’s face, but loaded his ships and departed, taking Oleo and all his converts with him as slaves locked under his decks.
For many miserable days and nights Oleo and his people wept and prayed in the darkness, enduring sickness, starvation and brutal treatment at the hands of their captors. Then, on the third day, there came the sound of cracking wood, cries of battle and the whoosh of stirred waves all about them. Fearing the end had come, Oleo prayed out lout and many of the people gathered around him, seeking the strength of Aed in this final hour. Then the battle ended above and the bolted doors of the deck were flung open. The silhouette of a tall warrior with a great sword dripping with blood was seen and Oleo stepped in front of his people.
“I am Oleo, a missionary of the Vaekirate church and the one true and all powerful God. I am bound to a holy duty and the will of Aed. Strike me and you strike at God. I shall not let you harm these people while I still stand.”
The warrior stopped in the door and then a soft chuckle was heard. “
Stubborn indeed. So you have washed upon my shores again, old friend?”
A torch was lit and the face of King Evyn Christallo could be seen looking down on Oleo and his converts.
“Fritjof is dead and we have taken his ships in battle,” Evyn explained, “Come. We will have these chains off then you will dine with me in my hall once again.”
And so Oleo and all those who had followed him in faith came to Elon and were made welcome by the king and his people.
“And will you go back to the land of your birth again?” asked Evyn, once Oleo was recovered and rested.
“My mission is to my people. They have no more homes in that land. Their king has cast them out. Because they followed me, they were abandoned and enslaved. They are refuges and so am I, for now I shall follow them. I have faith that Aed will lead us to a new home.”
“Maybe He already has,” Evyn said then poured them both a fresh cup of wine.
After that day, Oleo and his people settled in Elon, building new homes and a temple to Aed. A couple years later King Evyn and his family agreed to be initiated and the rest of the country followed suit. Oleo died in Elon and, as was the custom in that land, he was buried and a tree planted over the grave.
King Evyn planed the tree himself. “He was a stubborn man, strong of faith and blessed by God. May his spirit live on and be remembered in this tree.”
And so it was. The tree that grew over the grave was thicker of bark and stronger than any other that grew in the land. It grew quickly, spreading wide branches and becoming wide and round in the trunk and deep in the roots. The fruit it gave was sweeter and its leaves greener and through the long years the tree has stood firm and solid, never rotting or growing old. It is said that by kissing the trunk of Oleo’s tree you will be blessed by strength and find the courage to be stubborn in your faith and true to your duty, whatever it may be.
King Evyn protected the people and the temple Oleo left behind and eventually all this was heard back in the south and brought to the Vaekir, who named Oleo a martyr and blessed King Evyn.
“We shall remember Oleo and his stubborn dedication to his duty, to Aed, his mission and the people he looked after, but we shall also remember the pagan King Evyn Christallo, who stood beside a stranger and worked the will of God, even though he was a savage and born in a far away country.”
And so it was and has been.
Historian’s Note:
At the time of this ledged, King Evyn of Elon was at war with Fritjof the Frigid. Initially the two had been allied against other Northern kings, but had engaged in war over a family issue. Evyn’s wife, Breta, was the daughter of Fritjof. After some time married Evyn had discovered Fritjof had greatly abused Breta while she lived in her father’s house and this stirred up his anger against his father in-law. During a dinner, where Fritjof was visiting Elon, Fritjof got drunk and grabbed after his daughter, now Evyn’s wife. Breta screamed with fear and Evyn struck Fritjof, knocking him across the hall. Enraged, Frigjof demanded the return of his daughter and a breaking of their alliance. Evyn refused to return his wife to her father and war broke out between the two kings. Fritjof won many of the primary battles, raiding and plundering the villages and carry off the peasants, leaving King Evyn with a greatly decreased population. Eventually, Evyn defeated Fritjof, attacking him unawares at sea and chopping off his head with the renowned great-sword, Wind Roar. The fact that Oleo and his people were on board the ships was probably just a coincidence and Evyn welcomed them, because he greatly needed to rebuild his peasant population after the war. The friendship between Evyn and Oleo, Evyn’s conversion to the Vaekirate faith and the origin of Oleo’s tree is disputable. Nonetheless, the fact remains that the Vaekirate religion has had a strong presence in Elon for many centuries prior to the Imperial conquest. Many pilgrims in the north consider the tree of St. Oleo a holy sight and the Christallo line of Kings is considered to have “Saintly Lineage” according to the Vaekirate Church historians.
~Queen Chello Christallo
