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Father’s Mission Part I

February 4th, 1723

My name is Fray Jose Martinez, and I came from Spain to the New World in order to bring the savages of this land to the worship of my God. I keep this journal now, so that those that come after me may continue this holy work, and understand how the divine came to inhabit this place.

This land is inhospitable, a hot and dangerous place teeming with the signs of the darkest demons that ever strode this earth. Beyond the savages that refuses reason or true worship, there were the children of Yig, noisome where most of their kind were silent. Rattling in warning like the sibilant whispers of a worshiper on the blackest sabbath, the creatures were everywhere, fangs filled with poison that would end a man as quickly as any savages’ arrow.

The French often beset us out of Louisiana, ill-bred and decadent, only pretending at a faith in a hollow dead God that would never answer any of their prayers. The warring of petty earthly monarchs brings brother against brother in a place where we should all band together simply to survive. I was put into place here at Nuestra Senora de Guadalupe de los Nacogdoches as the resident missionary by the Marquis de Aguayo, however, it was not his hand that guided my placement, but that of my master Andres de Miranda. Master Andres would never allow such an important post to fall to chance.
The conversion of the natives is paramount to success, it is no secret that the cult of the English wishes to spread their own warped views. Dredging their drowned gods from the deep, warping true worship for something that it should never be. I cannot allow for their false ideology to take root here, I will not consign this new world to the rule of Leviathan.

During my morning prayers, I considered this land, in many ways, it is unsoiled, a perfect reflection of power and majesty of the divine. This place, in particular, between the jutting pine forests, in no other place could my calls be so clearly heard. Here in this so-called New World, I will be able to bring forth one of the thousand children of God, and the Holy Mother.

My mission is straightforward, I am to engage with the native savages, the Nacogdoches, the Caddo, and any other of these brutes and bring to them the light of holy enlightenment. What makes such an endeavor more difficult is that the presence of my so-called assistants, youthful priests, and translators attempting to push their own agenda on my work. And my work should not be difficult, as I have stated previously the very nature of this land speaks to many aspects of my God.

Even today, Father Paulo came to me, wishing to speak on matters that rightfully do not concern him. I will transcribe our conversation as best I can remember, being truthful and honest, as no lies are hidden from our Lord and the Holy Mother.

“Father Martinez? I would like to speak to you on progress with the traders we met with earlier this week.” I was in the middle of my afternoon constitutional when he approached me, and thus I could not feign busy work to avoid his questions.

“Yes, Paulo, what is it?”

“We met with the natives, and traded for food, we spoke to them together . . .” I understood of course what he was trying to hint at, but watching him squirm, knowing he had no right to question me, made his company a bit more bearable.

“Yes, Paulo.”

“Well it just seems that during that time, you did nothing to bring up the Christ, or even suggest to them salvation, I know it is not my place, but it seems to me if we are to be successful, then we must bring dialogue to these natives.”

Paulo is simply one of the burdens of my post here, his simple mind cannot begin to comprehend universal truths, nor even the half-gazed truths that his own faith affords him. I took but a few moments to explain that, conversion, true conversion, is not a matter of ramming theology down the throats of the natives, but rather like composing an opera that is alien to their untrained ears, but none the less has the beauty of one composed by Percell. Even they must see the beauty of it.

I believe Paulo was caught in my words, moved by them. As I have stated, the man is a simpleton, and I believe soon I will offer him up to this place.

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