Winter, 1274.

A grey wolf, alienated in lilt and aura, held a pearly shape in his hand… a cross. Before a Shintō shrine, the red-pupiled wolf’s face over the calm night air was the only thing seen on his face. He had small, unforgiving, crimson pupils.

Monty sat in seiza.

At the priest’s side, the Old Testament; the other, a katana with a crossed emblem. In his hands, a rosary.

Priest Montgomery Goldgang in birth name; Gotōmo Tsunami in adoptive name. An English priest in Nihon, born in the lands of the rising sun, taken away in childhood and sent to Europe, and brought back into adulthood.

…Embattled alongside samurai against the Mongols.

The wolf’s prayer was quiet; whispered. It was like a soft breeze through the leaves on the night.

He prayed quietly. He prayed in Latin.

Montgomery’s grey paws clutched the blinging rosary, the wooden beads clicking gently in his palm, his Latin unwavering; nigh-cacophonous—his faith unshaken, his soul in a constant state of unrest.

Yet, In his prayers, a single word began to take place amongst the Latin and English…

Nihon’s word for it: kami…

An ancient belief of spirits living in the forests, rivers, and mountains around the land…

…A belief foreign to the Christian man before a Shintō shrine.

…

Montgomery was not a benevolent man.