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"But you do understand I also have to comply with the wishes of the Brotherhood?" the Pope faintly rebelled. The fire-lit eyes met his gaze. Disgust and anger surrounded the irises of the messenger of God.
"You have four years until we answer your prayer. In return, you will find a way not to completely oust women and their stories from the Bible. We know it is your task to banish the first female apostle and disciple of Jesus from the New Testament. The link between Jesus and the emergence of Christianity."
"Mary Magdalene," the Pope whispered in dismay and lowered his eyes. He knew it was so wrong, and it pained him.
The Church was born out of the proclamation of Jesus, which a woman had carried out into the world after his so-called disciples had cowardly hidden or slandered the one nailed to the cross.
Who had persevered at the cross despite the danger of being crucified themselves? The women.
Who had visited the tomb of Jesus? The women.
And yet, it was the men who took over everything afterward.
He felt sick at the thought that he was now to deal the final death blow to the female protagonists of the biblical story. To eradicate Mary Magdalene, just like many other women of Christianity before.
He looked resolutely at the angel.
"Agreed," he replied in a surprisingly firm voice. "You have my word, the word of Pope Gregory the Great, that I will ensure that Mary Magdalene's name is not banned from the Holy Scriptures."
The angel nodded. "That's good," he said. "We will hold you to your word, human."
A glaring light appeared and blinded the former monk so much that he had to hold his hand in front of his face.
"We'll keep an eye on you," he heard the voice of God's messenger. The bright light was gone the next moment, and the Pope stood alone in his garden.
That same Sunday, the churchman preached that Mary of Bethany, who had anointed Jesus' feet, was the same person as the well-known sinner of Luke's Gospel and equated both women with Mary Magdalene. He had kept his promise to the angel. Mary Magdalene would remain in the Bible.
At the same time, he had made her a propaganda figure for the Church and, thus, also for the Brotherhood. She had now been degraded from an apostle, a disciple of Jesus, to a whore, a repentant sinner who was supposed to reflect the image of all women. A woman who could never have laid the foundations of the Christian faith.
Trembling and uneasy, he left the Church afterwards. Nausea rose inside him. What had he done? His sermon today would change the course of history. He had adjusted the past to influence the future. Hopefully, his words hadn't destroyed everything he believed in.
He knew that someone else would have stepped up to take on the task if he hadn't done it. Perhaps in a far more drastic way.
He hurried to his study, stroking the papyrus tenderly with his finger one last time, and carefully packed it away.
It was well past midnight when there was a knock on his door. The Pope was startled by the far too loud noise and needed two heartbeats before he could manage an "Come in!
A man dressed all in black entered. "At your service, Holy Father," he whispered and bowed to him.
He was simultaneously filled with fear and confidence as he pressed the valuable papyrus into his servant's hand. "You know what to do."
The dark man nodded, and the next moment, he was already on his way to carry out his mission.
Sighing, Pope Gregory the Great sank into his armchair. There was nothing more he could do. Hopefully, the hidden scripture would eventually change this patriarchal world and rewrite history.
CHAPTER 1
2153 AD.
Unexpectedly, he turned towards me. His caramel-colored eyes shone golden in the glow of the fire. Liquid gold in which I, Morgan le Fay, was in danger of drowning.
"What's your name?" I asked in a trembling voice.
"Allow me, my name is Tanael Baldur."
For a brief moment, the only sound I heard was the rain dripping on the treetops while the stranger's name dug deep into my soul. The spark of recognition touched my thoughts like déjà vu, and I unintentionally took a step in his direction.
"Do we know each other?" I whispered, tempted to reach out and run my hand through his blond hair. I had to use all my self-control not to.
