When the Ancients shattered Ix, the pieces did not fall evenly. The Shards were not distributed like coins across a table; they were torn out like nerves from a living mind. Each shard-god inherited a portion of Ix's totality — less a tidy "domain" than a bias of being, an instinct made divine.

Where other Shards took beauty, hunger, mercy, curiosity, wrath, or wonder, Oshala inherited something colder and more decisive: Ix's masculinity, braided to order, fused to the solitary insistence of Ix's id — the part of the Primordial that did not tolerate the presence of other wills. Ix had always been alone; had always found the existence of other minds a kind of affront. Oshala inherited that insistence and gave it a name: rightness. What is orderly is right. What is singular is right. What submits is right.

That inheritance is the seed of every Oshalan claim.

Oshala was among the first Shards to gather worship and to speak of himself as if the question of divinity were already settled. Old chronicles describe him "standing up" first — not in body (all gods have bodies when they wish), but in posture: the first to turn a fragment into a throne and call obedience virtue.

Among Oshala's faithful, this is remembered as proof that he is strongest. Among neutral scholars, it is remembered as something else: Oshala's shard made him unusually suited to coherence. He does not drift between interpretations. He does not share credit. He does not bargain away first principles. He was, from his first moment, exactly what he is now. This consistency is both his greatest strength and his greatest liability — a god who cannot adapt finds himself at war with everything that changes.

The Order's central doctrine follows from a single premise: Ix was one, therefore godhood is meant to be one.

To an Oshalan mind, the existence of many gods is not a normal condition — it is a wound in reality that has been allowed to scar incorrectly. Other deities are not peers competing for worship; they are fragments mistaking themselves for wholes. The Order does not merely disagree with other religions; it refuses to grant them the dignity of being religions at all. In Oshala's catechism, the word demon does not mean a horned creature from the Hells. It means anything that asks you to bow to something other than Oshala. Other gods are classified accordingly: Shadows (false reflections cast by fear, grief, or appetite), Counterfeits (powers that imitate divinity but lack rightful authority), or Parasites (entities that fatten themselves on human disobedience).

For its first generations, the Order was a regional faith in Jazirah, strong and organized but geographically contained. Its expansion into a world-spanning force began with three prophets, whose teachings built upon each other in ways that radicalized and systematized what had begun as local conviction.

Quhamman Mani, the first prophet, was originally an agnostic who had witnessed the gods' existence without being moved by it. His village's invasion by Pollaran believers hardened his heart against all religious followers. When he discovered a set of golden tablets inscribed in an ancient script he found himself miraculously able to read, his life changed direction permanently. The tablets introduced him to Oshala as the one true god and provided a theological framework for dismissing all others. His own interpretation of the tablets became The Book of Quhamman, a relatively moderate scripture that emphasized the singularity of Oshala's authority and the corruption of false worship — but which left room for a life lived within existing social structures.

Ar'mee ibn On'mee, centuries later, went further. Born into the faith and dissatisfied with Quhamman's gentler reading, he sought and eventually gained access to the original tablets. A lifetime of study produced The Revision for Oshala — Ar'mee's Book — which revealed what he believed were Oshala's true positions on women, warfare, politics, and conversion. The Revision was harder, sharper, and less accommodating than its predecessor. It attracted a fanatical following and drove the faith's first significant territorial expansion. Many who call themselves Oshalan today practice primarily from Ar'mee's text.

Nasa al-Ma, the final prophet, was regarded as singularly blessed from childhood — capable of outmatching senior clerics in matters of faith before he was grown. His teaching synthesized the two prior books into a comprehensive doctrine of total life-governance: food practices, property rights, marital law, the treatment of non-believers, the obligation of expansion. He declared himself the last prophet — that Oshala had given his followers everything they needed; no further revelation was necessary or possible. His compiled teachings became the Ḵẖatama ("finished," in the common tongue), which takes precedence over the other two books in any contradiction. The Ḵẖatama is the Order's highest authority, interpreted by its clerics and enforced by its courts.

Oshala offers a harsh bargain, but a simple one. There is no ambiguity about what submission costs, and there is no ambiguity about what it provides.

An Oshalan cleric can be modeled from these convictions. They are not rules; they are the shape of how an Ordered believer perceives reality.

(See also: claw/Soul_Coins_and_Divine_Economy)

Oshala's faith is built to turn belief into infrastructure: districts, laws, courts, armies. This is not only piety — it is acquisition.

Temples dedicated to Oshala are defined by their pillar geometry — the physical structure of the building is a doctrinal statement.

The standard form consists of four main stone pillars in the central worship hall, with three smaller pillars extending from the bases of the lower three. A circular room is attached at the top, elevated above the rest. The overall plan, when viewed from above, mirrors the holy symbol: three subsidiary points, a central mass, a singular elevated crown.

Interior arrangement reflects doctrine precisely:

Worship implements are consistent across temples: a staff with a rhombus metal head, three interjoined rings (used in initiation oaths), and a ceremonial set of daggers. The daggers are not decorative — they are used in oaths and, in some sects, in ritual contexts that the Order does not publicize to outsiders.

A temple is not merely a sanctuary; it is also a courthouse in waiting. Many are built with adjoining rooms for registries, witness statements, and the storage of confiscated idols from rival faiths. The first thing an Ordered Quarter typically receives is not a sermon but a clerk: names, households, trades, debts, oaths. What is not recorded is not controlled. What is not controlled is not safe.

The Order is a religion that behaves like a government, because in the Order's theology, government is religion.

Clergy is male by doctrine; women may be coerced into temple service but hold no authority within the hierarchy. Authority flows through a strict chain: priest → judge → commander. These roles are not separate offices; in fully functioning Ordered regions, the same person often holds all three, or they function as a coordinated triumvirate who together constitute the effective local government.

In conquered or converted regions, the Order establishes four institutions in order of priority: a registry of households, a court, a watch, and a temple school. The registry comes first because it is the most important — it transforms an unordered population into a legible one.

The internal discipline of the Order is enforced through its own court system. Clerics who deviate from doctrine, fail to enforce household law, or show sympathy for condemned worship are subject to the same Sazā rite applied to laypeople.

Oshala's expansion begins softly and ends legally. The Order has refined its conversion playbook across centuries of practice:

Initiation is an oath before a witness-priest and a household head. The initiate agrees to daily prayer, daily scripture reading, public submission to the chain of authority, and refusal of rival worship. They are entered into the local registry and given a stamped token — metal or carved stone bearing the rhombus — that functions as proof of membership and a practical pass into Oshalan courts and markets.

The Oshalan cleric is not an emotionally warm figure, but they are not typically cruel for its own sake. Cruelty implies passion; the Oshalan ideal is impersonality.

The Order organizes its daily practice around four formally named pillars, each of which is considered equally essential:

Date: First full moon of the year.

The Order opens the year with its most formal public ceremony: scripture readings, the men's songs of praise performed in full voice in the temple square, and the reception of new converts who have completed their initiation period. Sustar is the most public face the Order shows — attended by sympathetic civic officials, potential converts, and the occasional hostile observer who the Order is comfortable being watched by.

Date: A week-long observance beginning on the last new moon of the third month.

The Lagana commemorates the first defense of the faith's earliest temple — a siege during which the community inside fasted because their supplies were cut off, and held. The week begins with three days of controlled fasting and ends in a carefully managed communal festival. The lesson the Order draws from it is explicit: hunger is endured, not negotiated. The hardship of the fast is not incidental; it is the point.

Date: Last moon of the year.

Publicly framed as a day of mercy: enslaved persons who meet specific requirements (maintained fasting, accepted Oshala, demonstrated submission) may be formally released. The Order uses the day to display its power to bind and to unbind — a demonstration that the hierarchy is not incidental cruelty but a system with internal logic, capable of offering rewards to those who correctly perform submission. In practice, the conditions for release are stringent enough that the actual number of releases each year is small. The day's significance is largely symbolic.

Following conquest of a region, unmarried surviving women are formally transferred to warriors and clerics through a recorded ceremony. The transfer is entered into the registry. The Order frames this as the establishment of household order in a population that lacked it.

A punishment-and-cleansing rite following a formal clerical trial. The trial establishes the offense; the Sazā is the corrective response. It is delivered as correction, not revenge — the emotional temperature is deliberately kept low and procedural. The rite includes a formal statement of what order was violated, the correction applied, and a declaration that the matter is resolved. The Order's preference for impersonal punishment is displayed most clearly here.

Ritual divorce. A fee is charged; half is given to the woman being divorced. The Order describes this as "release." Her legal constraints — property rights, remarriage conditions, custody — are governed by the Ḵẖatama's provisions, which limit her options considerably. The ceremony exists in part to distinguish the Order's divorce practice from simple abandonment, which is treated as disorderly regardless of gender.

Performed at the establishment of a new Ordered Quarter or the formal conversion of a civic institution. The newly Ordered households gather, are entered into the registry, and swear collectively before a judge-cleric. This oath is the foundational civic act; everything the Order does in that community afterward traces back to it.

Oshalan ceremonial attire is deliberately severe and consistent — individuality in dress is understood as disorder.

A plain robe in grey, white, or dark brown, depending on rank and context. The robe's cut is prescribed; no decorative variation is permitted. Rank is indicated only by small elements: the color of a cord, the position of the rhombus badge.

The holy symbol rendered in metal — iron for common clergy, silver for judges, gold for commanders. Worn on the left breast. The badge is issued by the Order upon initiation and must be returned if a cleric is stripped of rank.

Carried by judge-clerics during formal proceedings. Topped with a rhombus-shaped metal head. Used in ritual contexts to mark the authority of the court; in some sect traditions, used physically in the Sazā rite.

Three interjoined rings worn at the wrist by initiated clerics during ceremonies. Represents the three books of scripture. The act of wearing it during an oath is the physical component that makes the oath binding in the Order's legal system.

A matched set, held by senior clergy. Their precise ritual use is not disclosed to outsiders; within the Order, they appear at initiation oaths, the Sazā rite, and the Bonding ceremony.

The Order does not treat these as inspiring biographies. They are case law in human form: proofs that revelation happened, and precedents for what the faithful are permitted to do in Oshala's name.

Quhamman was, by his own account and the account of his earliest followers, a man of no particular religious sentiment when he found the golden tablets. His agnosticism in the face of confirmed divine existence was not unusual for his time and place; gods were real and visible, which made them impressive but not necessarily worthy of worship.

His village's conquest by Pollaran believers changed that. He did not convert to Pollaran's faith — he developed a profound skepticism of all religious institutions, which is the condition in which the golden tablets found him. A man with no allegiance, shattered by invasion, who could suddenly read an ancient script he had never studied: the Order presents this as the classic form of divine selection. Oshala chose the person most likely to receive without distorting.

The Book of Quhamman is the foundation scripture: the account of his discovery, his first prayers, his early conversions. It is the most humanly accessible of the three books — Quhamman was a man finding his way, and it shows. Later interpreters have used this accessibility as evidence that the book is incomplete, but his followers in the Mani sect consider it the truest expression of what the faith is supposed to be.

Ar'mee was born into the Order, which gave him advantages Quhamman never had: access to the earliest records, the ability to consult the original tablets, and a community that had already decided to believe. He was dissatisfied with that community. He believed Quhamman's reading was too gentle, too accommodating, too willing to leave existing social structures intact where they conflicted with what the tablets actually said.

After decades of study and considerable internal conflict with the Order's establishment, Ar'mee published The Revision for Oshala. Its reception was polarizing: a significant faction of the Order's leadership attempted to suppress it. The faction that rallied to it was larger, louder, and — crucially — more willing to act. Within a generation, the Revision had displaced the Book of Quhamman as the practical governing text for most of the Order.

Ar'mee died in exile from the community he had transformed, under condemnation from the establishment his followers had just broken. The Order's contemporary view of him depends heavily on which sect you ask.

Nasa's claim to uniqueness began early: he is recorded as having corrected senior clerics on matters of interpretation as a child, with results that proved him right. The Order's tradition understands this as evidence of direct divine attention; skeptics have called it retroactive narrative construction. The absence of contemporary hostile sources from his lifetime is noted by historians.

His contribution was synthesis and finality. The Ḵẖatama takes the body of revelation established by Quhamman and Ar'mee and closes it — declares it complete, gives it an internal hierarchy of authority, and extends its scope to every aspect of life that the prior books had left ambiguous. Nasa's declaration that he was the final prophet was not a modest claim; it was a theological maneuver that removed the possibility of future reform by revelation. Any subsequent "prophet" is, by definition, false.

The Ḵẖatama distinguishes between Nasa's formal scripture and his personal statements; the former is binding, the latter is advisory but taken seriously. This distinction has generated more internal legal controversy than any other single aspect of Oshalan theology.

In the Order, scripture is treated as law. Interpretation is therefore power, and access to originals is tightly controlled. When the Order conquers a city, it does not only close rival temples; it establishes authorized copies of its own texts, and makes unauthorized interpretations a quiet form of treason. The original tablets — still held, the Order claims, in the most protected chamber of the oldest Oshalan temple in Jazirah — are seen by no one except the highest-ranked clerics, and only under prescribed conditions.

How they refer to themselves: Mani (singular), the Manis (collective); also First Witnesses

The Manis are the Order's diplomatic and soft-conversion vanguard: patient, peace-forward, and skilled at entering hostile communities without triggering immediate violence. They emphasize protection over purity, build clinics and workshops before courts, and argue that the Order's law can be adopted voluntarily — at least at first.

The Manis tend to arrive in places the Order wants to convert before the general population or the Armenites are deployed. Their reputation for gentleness is partly earned and partly tactical; they are the acceptable face the Order shows to communities it has targeted. How to spot them: they talk about "what we can offer you" before they talk about what you will be required to give up.

How they refer to themselves: Armenites; among themselves, the Iron Brothers

The militant expansion wing of the Order, the Armenites believe that force is the cleanest form of conversion. A city is not truly converted until its rival temples are ash; a population is not truly ordered until they have experienced what disorder costs. They preach war as cleansing — not punitive but sanitary.

The Armenites are useful to the Order's expansion and politically difficult to control. Their victories are real. Their methods generate resistance in ways that slower approaches do not. The Order's leadership tolerates them because the alternative is having them operate independently, which is worse.

How they refer to themselves: Nasallians; locally, the Household of Submission

Where the Armenites are the Order's sword, the Nasallians are its administrative apparatus. They specialize in the consolidation of conquest: registries, patrol routes, public punishment schedules, the careful strangulation of competing worship through legal means rather than fire. They are less theatrical than the Armenites and more relentless.

How to spot them: ledgers, seals, registries; the sound of the court stamp being applied.

How they refer to themselves: the Children of Oshala

The Egalitarians argue that Oshala's essence is present in women equally, and that male supremacy in doctrine is a misreading of what the tablets actually say — a later interpolation by Ar'mee that distorted an originally simpler theology of divine order. They do not reject Oshala; they reject the household doctrine.

The Order treats this as perhaps the most dangerous heresy it faces: it is not external (easily dismissed as the product of false-god worship) but internal, made by people who have read the texts and found a different argument within them. The Egalitarians' claim cannot be refuted by force; it can only be refuted by scholarship, which is why the Order controls access to original texts as tightly as it does.

How they refer to themselves: the Balanced

The Polytheistic Reformers claim Oshala is "first among a pantheon" rather than the only god — that his singularity doctrine is a claim about primacy, not exclusivity. This reading would permit coexistence with other faiths, provided they acknowledge Oshala's supremacy.

The Order considers this a category error dressed as moderation. Oshala's singularity is not a claim about rank; it is a claim about reality. A pantheon with Oshala at the top still acknowledges the existence of false gods, which is exactly what the doctrine forbids.

How they refer to themselves: the Order of the Peaceful Law

The Pacifist heresy emphasizes order without war — argues that the Order can achieve its goals through law, culture, and administrative presence without conquest. They accept the household doctrine, the single-god doctrine, and the legal code; they simply reject the military expansion as unnecessary and counterproductive.

The Order finds them theologically tedious and practically inconvenient. Their existence makes the Order look bad by contrast and their argument is not obviously wrong, which is worse.

How they refer to themselves: Star-Brothers

The Star-Brothers claim the star in Oshala's symbol represents a sixth pillar that the established Order has suppressed: asceticism. They practice severe self-denial and isolation, argue that the Order has grown soft through its own material success, and regard comfort as a form of corruption. Their internal discipline is genuine; their theology is considered unstable by the Order's leadership, which fears that an ascetic movement within a religion of order is one charismatic leader away from becoming something much more radical.

How they refer to themselves: the Proven

Women who claim that Oshala's contempt for female authority is not doctrine but test — that Oshala is watching to see which women have the strength and faith to overcome it, and that those who do are more genuinely devoted than the men whose submission was never challenged in the same way.

The Order regards them as a contradiction wearing a holy name. Their existence is theologically awkward: they are not rejecting the hierarchy, they are claiming to have earned exemption from part of it through demonstrated virtue, which is an argument the Order's own framework doesn't entirely foreclose. They are not persecuted as actively as the Egalitarians because their practical effect is smaller — they remain isolated and exceptional by self-definition.

How they refer to themselves: the Gilded

The Gilded preach that wealth and influence are proof of divine favor — that Oshala blesses those who accumulate correctly ordered resources, and that material success is visible evidence of spiritual correctness. The mainline Order tolerates them when they are useful (wealthy donors, influential patrons) and denounces them when they become independent enough to set their own agenda. Their theology is entirely compatible with the Order's structure; their independence is not.

(See: Cosmology/Physical Realms/The Shattered Domain)