25 September, 1570

To Fürstabt Gerhard von Ingolschen

When a very large project is undertaken, at all steps there must be oversight. For this purpose I have spent the last week (travel can be unreliable in the eastern Reich these days, so I set out to arrive well before the prophesied date of the attack) in old Stettin. During the attack, I watched the Wien and Sachiel from the roof of a tall building with a spyglass. With a few minor caveats, I am entirely pleased with the result of our funds and your labor. Such caveats include:

• Initially the Wien appeared to execute a retreat. But this retreat did not appear to play into any sort of strategy.

• Only the Wien was sortied, rather than both the Wien and the Trent. I was under the impression that controlling two Evangelions rather than one from the Stettin-Drei base would allow us to outnumber the singular attacks of the beasts rather than resort to one-on-one contests of strength and finesse. Why is this not the case? Is something wrong with the pilotess of the Trent?

• The Evangelion was slow to engage and allowed the beast Sachiel to make attacks on the city of Stettin-Drei, causing unnecessary damage.

• The townspeople appear to be calling these beasts "Angels". Unacceptable. Such terminology implies that God has sent them to punish the people of the Stettin area – which not only would include many of us, but could also let loose a round of ruthless and possibly bloody recriminations among the religious sects of Pomerania. As the highest ranking of our men in Pomerania, you will be put in charge of an outreach attempt to correct this error.

I will be coming to Stettin-Drei in a few days to meet with you more personally. Ugo and Nikita will also be attending, although I regret none else of our colleagues are in the area.

From Wilhelm V von der Marck, Herzog von Jülich-Cleves-Berg-Geldern (1)


Siegfried woke to an unfamiliar ceiling. The stone it was made from handily distinguished it from the ones in his home in Croatia or any of the inns from there to Stettin. He turned in his bed to further view his surroundings. Seeing Marcellus, sitting in a chair and reading a book, the boy seriously considered going back to sleep, but before he could get back in a comfortable position the monk noticed him.

"You're up! Are you well?" Marcellus asked.

"No, but I'll manage…," Siegfried said. "Wait, what am I doing here?" The last thing he remembered was the sea monster removing his jaw from his face, and the connection between that situation and his current one was not entirely clear. He sat up, only to receive a bone-jarring slap on the back from Marcellus.

"You did great, boy," the monk gushed. "That thing won't be coming back!"

"I killed it…?" He was still shivering a little.

"Yes, and in a spectacular fashion. Do you not remember?"

Siegfried racked his brains. "Eh… some of it."

"Hm," Marcellus grunted, "What's the last thing you do remember?"

"Up to the part where it carved my jaw off." Siegfried's head hurt from all the recollection, and his eyes still wanted to be closed. He lay back down.

Marcellus dragged him back up. "Hey, this isn't the time to sleep! You have a lot to do!" he exclaimed. "Gerhard wanted to meet with you as soon as you got back up. Also, you have a meeting with Sister Acquisto, and after that you really should meet the other Children. You've been out for two days; a lot has gone on."

"Two days?" Siegfried shouted. He wiped the dust from his eyes and removed the sheets. Marcellus helped him to his feet, and the two left the room.

They left the small building that served as a hospital and started walking to Gerhard's office. Fortunately, most of the buildings were concentrated near the entrance of the GeoFront, so the journey was not as long as it might have been. "So, I got to the lookout just around when the Angel tore the Evangelion's jaw off," Marcellus said.

"Angel?" questioned Siegfried.

"Sorry, my tongue slipped. That's what everyone's calling the things. It's not theologically correct and the Abbot's been trying to make people stop using the term, but I've got the feeling that it's a losing battle," Marcellus said.

"And what happened after that?" Siegfried asked, hoping to get back on topic.

Marcellus was (perhaps overly) happy to explain. "The Wien grabbed the angel's arm that was in it throat and broke it off. Then the angel put up the octagon field again, but the EVA ripped it apart! It stepped through the hole in the octagon field, and dug the red jewel out of its chest." He pantomimed digging out the Angel's core. "The angel was powerless against the Wien; it just broke all the ribs and stuck its hands in there without even noticing the angel's attacks. Then it beat on the jewel until it shattered. After that the angel stopped moving. I should take you to see the corpse."

Siegfried shuddered. "Oh, don't worry. I've seen worse," said the monk.

After a brief pause to let that thread of conversation expire, Siegfried spoke. "Hm, but I don't recall any of that," he said. His feelings on the Evangelion's victory were mixed. On one hand, he felt like taking credit. On the other hand, Marcellus probably had already discerned that he wasn't responsible.

"Interesting. You should tell Acquisto," said Marcellus. The two entered the main building in the GeoFront and ascended a flight of stairs. From there it was only a few paces to the abbot's office. They opened the door and walked in.

The office was enormous, but at the same time constricting. Most of the space of the room was taken up by a series of massive tables, with only narrow walking room between them. They displayed family trees, strange designs, and all manner of texts, all held open with weights for viewing. There was only a dozen by five feet of truly open space in this room, on which were a carpet leading up to the abbot's desk. A few paintings, in the styles of the half-sunken Low Countries, adorned the walls. They all either depicted enclosed spaces or were portraits. Light came in from an open roof, but due to the alignment and placing of the room, the wall of the hollow mountain was clearly visible from the entrance and appeared as a ceiling. Even though the room was well-lit, it still seemed gloomy due to the subdued and murky colors of the walls. The abbot's desk followed this pattern; it was such a dark brown that the intricate carvings could not be seen well. Leaning on the front of the desk was the abbot himself, full beard disguising his thin features. Reidun, wearing a black shawl to match the room, sat at a table, notepad and pen and inkwell in front of her. She wrote what Gerhard spoke.

"In addition, terminology should be established regarding–," Gerhard said. He stopped dictating as Marcellus shut the door behind him.

"Oh, hello," Gerhard addressed them. "Reidun, two chairs." The girl left the room, leaving her shawl on the door as she did so.

Siegfried was the first to break the silence. "…Father," he said. The abbot tented his fingers and sighed. A few seconds later, Reidun came back in the room with the two chairs. She set them behind Marcellus and Siegfried and took her seat at her table, shawl back on her head.

"Siegfried," Gerhard said. "We have much to talk about." The room remained silent for the next few seconds. "To start, you should not call me your father."

"But why?" the boy sputtered.

Gerhard explained, "For the same reasons why I am not. As a clergyman, I am not allowed to have biological children. If it were to get out that you are my son, people would object, and I can't have that. Thus, while you are here you will pretend to be a mere cousin. Second cousin, once removed." The abbot frowned. "Marcellus, judging by your expression you need to either say something or retire to the latrine. Speak, lest you dirty the floor," he said.

"I've, ah, told several people already that you're his father," Marcellus apologized.

Gerhard face-palmed. "I knew I smelled a leak." As Marcellus grumbled, he continued. "Track down the people you told and tell them to keep it covered or convince them you were lying. If they've already told more people, track those people down. As for you," Gerhard shifted back to Siegfried, "you should still go with 'second cousin'."

"Am I not your son?" Siegfried protested. "Is keeping some, some … pact to following all the rules as strictly as possible … is that more important to you than your own son? I may not have had a good education, but isn't that un-christian?"

Gerhard conceded, "I'll consider acknowledging you later, if all goes according to plan. But why do you care so much? I am providing for you as well as I would if I could acknowledge you."

"So fatherhood means nothing more than provision?" Siegfried said.

"For years I have spent all my waking hours occupied with matters of great importance. This façade will not change the amount of time I have to spend with you," said Gerhard.

Marcellus interjected, "Well, what about inheritance?"

"So fatherhood means nothing more than provision?" Gerhard replied. "Surely passing property to the next generation isn't the most important aspect of parenthood. I doubt inheritance will be a problem anyway in our case; I'm broke." Marcellus gave a small, guilty chuckle, but Siegfried wasn't moved.

Reidun looked up from the minutes and cleared her throat. "The children of God make decisions based on which appears to have a greater benefit. There are a few difficulties with keeping Siegfried disowned, true, but there are slightly greater drawbacks for acknowledging him: namely, a potential scandal that could set work back. Thus the path of action the Prince-Abbot has taken is both logical and just," she said. The Prince-Abbot steepled his hands.

"That doesn't make it right!" protested Siegfried. He wanted to say more, so much more, enough to make his damn father and that damn girl of his look out of his eyes; he wanted them to agree with him. But he could not think of the words.

"I cannot find any logic in that statement," said Reidun. They glared at each other for the next minute, to the bemusement of Gerhard and bewilderment of Marcellus.

Finally Gerhard said, "This is getting nowhere. Onto the next topic."

"Siegfried's accommodations," Reidun helpfully provided.

"Yes. We've arranged for you to share a room with two of the reserve children. You will be on your best behavior with them. Nihil per contentionem neque per inanem gloriam sed in humilitate superiores sibi invicem arbitrantes non quae sua sunt singuli considerantes sed et ea quae aliorum," Gerhard said. (2)

Siegfried replied, "I don't speak Latin."

"Do you really?" Gerhard asked worriedly. Siegfried didn't respond, but Gerhard acted as if he had.

"The priest should have taught you. I was very clear to your foster parents that you must be educated."

Siegfried said, "Yes, well, he did, but…."

"Croatia, peripheral as it is, is subject to many heterodox practices. In particular Latin is uncommon among the clergy, Church Slavonic is used instead. Is this fact pertinent to your excuse?" asked Reidun. (3)

Gerhard put his face in his palm and sighed. "Unacceptable. I'll have to find someone to teach you Latin now," he said.

"That'll disrupt the plans for his training," said Marcellus.

"Indeed," remarked Gerhard. Successive looks of deep thought, determination, confusion, and resignation passed over his face. He said, "You can handle his education as you wish. Come up with a plan by Monday. In the meantime get him started in EVA training and introduce him to the reserve children."

Marcellus stammered, "Ah, thank you sir!"

"Yes. Dismissed!" barked Gerhard.

The monk and the boy left the room. The girl finished jotting down the minutes of the meeting, and the abbot breathed a sigh of relief.


After they left the room, Marcellus answered Siegfried's many remaining questions. The boy would be living with two of the reserve children – those who could synchronize just enough to the EVA to keep it from berserking. Like them, he would have various duties mostly relating to cleaning the area, would take a shift restraining the EVA, and would train with weapons and the EVA.

The reason Gerhard was so insistent on having Siegfried learn Latin was that he, and all the other children, were supposed to be training for the priesthood. It remained unclear just how serious this commitment was. Sure, Marcellus's charges all could read and speak Latin, but from the schedule left by his predecessor the bulk of the reserves' time was spent not in clerical training nor even in restraining the EVA. Rather, the bulk of their hours were spent either training as soldiers, with human-scale versions of the weapons the EVAs used, or in menial labor around the cave-monastery. The monk had some hypotheses on why this arrangement was, but no real proof of anything. Nevertheless the arrangements persisted out of inertia and fear of knocking some misunderstood vital component of an unknown plan out of place. His mind set on such thoughts, Marcellus left Siegfried at Sister Rolanda Acquisto's door.

The monk went onwards. The day was still long ahead of him, and he would have a lot to teach the new boy. Some water (4) or beer would be an excellent preparation. The casks were in the mess, so having uncorked his hip flask, he sent himself there. He filled flask a quarter with beer, tasted it, and then filled it the rest of the way. If wine was the blood of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, then the booze Marcellus was drinking could be compared to His urine. But at least it had alcohol.

Siegfried Oberdorfer, not to be confused with his new charge, was getting the same thing. He was one of Acquisto's subordinates, a university graduate, and one of the people Marcellus had made his goal to acquaint himself with.

"How are things, Siegfried!" the monk said. He waited for an answer, which he got after the big Sig (he had to suppress himself from calling the man that) took a swig of beer.

Oberdorfer replied, "Just as usual, but even more work. I swear Rolanda wants to kill us all."

"So what'cha working on this time?"

"The Trent will be repaired by Wednesday," he said disinterestedly. "It's not going quite as well as we'd hoped, but she promised the Abbot Wednesday and she's going to make it done on Wednesday."

"Hm. Well, I just wanted to let you know that the new pilot, well, he's got the same name as you and..."

Siegfried cut in. "I know," he said exasperatedly.

"So, what about a nickname? Marcellus asked cheerfully. Hopefully the attitude would rub off on Oberdorfer.

"Don't call me big Sieg," he warned.

"Oh Siegfried?"

"No."

"The Dorf?"

"No."

"Übersiegfried!" Marcellus was becoming concerned; his attempt to ingratiate himself to Acquisto's subordinate was still unsuccessful and he looked annoyed.

To Marcellus's delight, Siegfried's scowl faded a little. But he rejected the nickname. "How about my last name? That's what everyone else is calling me." Oberdorfer said. He took another swig of his beer.

Marcellus nodded. Now was a good breaking point for this conversation. "Alright, I will. Now if you excuse me, I've got work to do too. Good day!"


Ten minutes after leaving the blonde nun, Siegfried von Ingolschen's head still hurt. She'd been all questions, just one after another. What did you think when you got into the EVA? The moment you charged the monster, did any of your muscles feel weak or sore or stiff? What did you feel when the Angel sliced up the Wien's jaw? The first, he'd been worried that he would be killed by Reidun or by the Evangelion itself. The second, he didn't remember, even after the third time she'd asked that. As for the third, it was actually quite painful, what did she expect? It didn't help that he'd just woken up from a coma.

Now he was in the barracks where all the other children involved in the maintenance of the EVA were kept. None of them seemed to be there currently, so they were probably somewhere else. Because of course they were. He couldn't just go somewhere, and expect to be where he was supposed to be. He'd always have to muss out the details of what he was supposed to be doing from some random person who looked what he knew what he was doing. Marcellus had given him a schedule, but it was in Latin. Too bad there. "I know you can't read this, but I don't like to keep too much paper on me, so can you hold on to it anyways?" he had said. He'd also explained what he was supposed to be doing today, but in the wake of the brain-draining interview with his father's top female underling (that thought raised some images he didn't want to dwell on) he just couldn't remember.

After a few minutes of rooting through the barrack halls,he'd found what was probably his room. It had his name on it; that was a positive sign. It also had the names of a "Kenneth Adelton" and a "Tomas Socarras" written on the same slip of paper next to the door. Now, Siegfried thought, if I'm in that room, and they're also in that room, then we're roommates. The name "Kenneth" seemed familiar, but he couldn't remember why. The new Child entered the room and sat down on the one bed. Letting his back come to rest on the mattress, he fell asleep immediately.


Shortly afterwards, Siegfried was woken by large, rough hands rocking him back and forth. Coming to his senses, he realized a well-built boy standing by the bedside to be the owner of those hands.

"What's your name? What are you doing here?" the boy asked. He was wearing a red-orange shirt and pants.

"I'm, uh, s-Siegfried von Ingolschen," said that very person. The last thing he wanted to do now was have a conversation; he wanted to say something like, "Shove off and let me sleep," but he couldn't think of a cool way to say it at the moment. The other boy responded by punching him in the neck.

Siegfried gagged and coughed to full alertness. "What the hell?" This conversation, already unwanted, was getting worse and worse. He wondered if it would be possible to just unilaterally fall asleep on the other guy. Unfortunately, he was now very awake and had no choice but to engage with this unknown puncher. This train of thought went through Siegfried's head often.

"What's this all about?" he asked.

The unknown boy, who had brown hair and eyes, yelled, "This is for Ken!" His fist once again sunk into Siegfried's cheek.

"Who the hell is Ken!?" Siegfried screamed, perhaps prematurely. He pulled his legs behind him and got to his knees. Then it occurred to him. Kenneth Adelton…

"You nearly killed him and you don't even remember his name? You really are scum," the other boy ranted. "Kenneth was just doing his round in the EVA, when you came and made it go berserk."

In this type of situation, Siegfried's instinct was to apologize. He did. It didn't work.

"Oh, so you're sorry now, are you? I bet that makes his arm bones not broken anymore." The new angry boy had a smirk on his face now, as if he'd been wanting to deliver that line for a while.

"Look," said Siegfried, "Kenneth was nice, I remember him now, OK, but it wasn't my fault he got hurt." The other boy's face softened. "And at least he's not dead, right?"

"It used to be that when you got out of the EVA cockpit, the other guy needed to be there in two minutes. As soon as Kenneth got out with you there, the thing went nuts," the other boy said. "So anyway, you need another punch."

Siegfried put his hands up. "Hey wait...," he said.

At that moment, the door swung open, revealing Reidun, who was carrying a pile of clothing. Siegfried quickly racked his mind for thoughts of how to deal with this new presence, but the next moment there was a fist in his nose.

His nose stung, but more importantly, he couldn't just let Kenneth's friend exact his revenge upon him passively. Why, Reidun was watching. She'd already seen him fail at running from the EVA and putting said EVA back in the pit. It would be even worse if she got the idea he was some sort of doormat. So he punched back.

His punch missed, and Kenneth's friend grasped tightly onto his left arm. Siegfried grabbed his left and stood up. The bed gave him high ground, and he kicked his opponent in the chest before yanking his left arm free. The other boy put Siegfried's legs in a bear hug, but Reidun interrupted them.

"Unauthorized fighting is illegal within this abbey. Siegfried, your clothes are here," she said dumping them onto the bed. "Both of you are to report to the training hall immediately." With her long, purposeful strides she left the room.

One of the boys introduced himself. "I'm Tomas."

"And I'm Siegfried, but you probably already knew," said the other.


(1) Geldern, or as it is now called Gelderland, is part of the Netherlands. Historically, Wilhelm V (the Rich) of the United Duchies of Jülich-Cleves-Berg inherited this duchy before losing it to Charles V, whose Habsburg family had claimed the area from the time of the breakup of Burgundy.

(2) Philippians 2:3-4

(3) Pope Innocent IV gave the Croatians permission to conduct liturgy in the Church Slavonic language, which was written in the Glagolitic script. In fact, several areas were given this permission to abstain from Latin long before Vatican II. The natives of North America were given permission to conduct liturgy in their native Americans, resulting in a situation where there were Catholic Bibles in Mohawk and Huron long before there were such in French or Italian.

(4) While it's a common belief that people in medieval and early modern times drank only alcoholic beverages due to the lack of water purification, that belief is just a myth. Wells and fast-moving rivers provided plenty of potable water for the world's thirsty. One question that should be asked to people who insist on the aforementioned myth: If drinking alcohol and dying of thirst were the only options in the olden days, how did Islam, which bans the drinking of alcohol, survive longer than a week?