Faith of the Forty - A Speculative Story
- Nov 26, 2024
- 24 min read
Theophilus
It is the 320th Year of our Lord, our God-fearing Emperor the great Constantine has granted unto the Christians under his rule the freedom to practice our Christian faith without the fear of death by the government. A privilege that even our Holy Lord was not given has been granted to His followers in our day by the grace of God. A privilege given to many Christians, but not to us as soldiers under Emperor Licinius. Other Christians are given the grace of peace to live out their lives, but we Christians have been granted the glory of suffering for the name of the Lord, and of the two I believe we have been given the greater grace.
I, Theophilus, a legionnaire of the XII Legion of Rome, feel it necessary to chronicle the glory that we were deemed worthy to receive thus far, and speak of the next tortures which we are about to receive. I write these things down not with the hope that it may be found by other Christians and they be stirred up in anger - never that, what I wish is that those who may read this journal of what has transpired in the past and what will happen now may be converted to the Faith, or that those already in the friendship of God will receive an increase of zeal for our Lord that results in an increased holiness on their part. By our witness in this imprisonment do I hope that the fervor for our God, the true and only God, may burn all the brighter in others. I give praise to God that I and my thirty-nine brothers in arms have been charged with the crime of loving Christ, and what a relief it was to hear that we were found guilty in this.
To the degree that our legion has a reputation is only due to God, not the works of any single one of us. But for the reputation that we do have, I give glory to God because of the good works He has brought about because of it. The Thundering Legion we have been called, or the Lightning Legion, the name bestowed on the XII forty years ago while on a military campaign with Emperor Marcus Aurelius. A name the legion was given by the emperor not because of some strength or prowess, but because of the faith of the men on the campaign.
The story is already famous across the empire, but I shall retell it now for those newly baptized who have not yet heard this story. And I tell it not for my own glory, for though I am older than many of my brothers, this was before I had joined the ranks of the XII. Whatever wonder you may feel at this tale, know that it is all true, and it is only because of God's mercy that it took place.
In the 174th year of our Lord the emperor was on a campaign against the Macromanni of Germania. The goal was to push them back and regain what land they had taken in the years of attacks leading up to the campaign, and quashing the likelihood of any future assaults from the barbarians. When the campaign was taken across the Danube to quell the Quadi, one of our primary antagonists and a powerful tribe of the Macromanni, the emperor and the XII along with the other legions with him became surrounded in a valley by the foes. The Quadi attacked at the beginning, but then pulled back to the perimeter and instead chose to wait out the emperor as he and the legions would soon die from lack of water and the heat of the season. There was nothing to do, nowhere to escape, for the campaign was surrounded on all sides and were at a disadvantageous spot that would cause all the men to be killed were they to try and fight their way out. It was thought that all was lost, and so all hope was lost, except for in the men of the XII legion. What exactly the men said to each other I do not know, but the men of the XII together knelt down onto the ground and began to pray for deliverance. The Quadi observed this phenomenon of many men seemingly letting down their guard and entering into prayer, and we can assume that they were emboldened by the sight of the men seemingly having lost hope. But then, after a little time had passed, how much time nobody today knows, the sky rapidly filled with dark clouds and a mighty storm was stirred up in the sky. Thunder and lighting shook the sky and lit up the land, and rain drenched the earth as if a saltless ocean were being dumped upon the opposing armies. At this onslaught of weather the Quadi fled, fearful of the wrath of their gods or of that God which they saw the men below praying to. Because of the prayers of these men bringing about this miracle the XII was given the name of The Thundering Legion by the emperor, and though he did not make the worship of our Lord legal in the empire he did start to tolerate we Christians more and had less leniency with our accusers.
This legacy of faith is what we men attempt to hold up through our persecutions now. We do not ask to receive a miracle from God to deliver us, we only ask that we are granted the strength to accept whatever fate is before us and glorify Him in that fate. If deliverance in this life is what the almighty God plans for us, then let it be done unto His will. If death is what awaits us, then all glory be to God, I pray that we are granted the strength to receive this gift well so that we may proceed to Heaven as obedient servants.
Our captor, the Governor Agricola, has inflicted tortures upon us through regular beatings for refusing to offer pagan sacrifices as commanded by the emperor Licinius. As all know, this command to offer sacrifice to the false gods is simply to root out the Christians so that he may more easily torment us. And in that part his plan has worked, he has found us Christians, but we are not so easily swayed from our faith as he seemed to believe. Seven nights ago while we forty sang and prayed together we heard a voice from Heaven say "Persevere until the end, then you shall be saved." The following morning we were once again brought before Agricola as we had been so many times in our imprisonment, but this time instead of berating us and using torture to turn us from our faith he attempted to flatter us into apostacy, offering promotions and gifts were we to abandon our God. But we persevered.
"We will not sacrifice. To do so is to betray our faith.” said I to our accuser.
Upset with our answer he attempted guilt as a tactic. “But what of your comrades? Consider – you alone of Caesar’s troops defy him! Think of the disgrace you bring upon your legion.”
Then Cyrion, the eldest of us, spoke out boldly, “To disgrace the name of our Lord Jesus is more terrible still.”
Agricola spoke to us again, “Give up this stubborn folly. You have no lord but Caesar! I promise promotion to the first one of you who steps forward to do his duty.”
Cyrion spoke for us again, “You can offer us nothing that would replace what we would lose in the life to come. We have learned to deny our bodies where our souls are at stake.”
This of course greatly upset Agricola, and he sent us away to our cell once again where we were graced with the opportunity to suffer for our Lord through beatings, and then given quite time to recover from our wounds and pray to our God.
Today we were brought before Agricola once again, and next to him stood Licius, the renowned judge, seemingly brought to determine our final sentence. In the trial Licius warned us of the consequences of maintaining our faith, and the heart of our youngest and only just having become a man, Meliton, was stirred up in faith and he cried out "Take not only our military insignia, but also our lives, since nothing is more precious to us than Christ God." The rest of us became even more emboldened and repeated this cry or shouted in agreement at Meliton's proclamation.
This did not please the judge, and Licius immediately ordered for us to be stoned. So we were brought to a pit and the governor, judge, and guards rained down stones upon us. But, miraculously no stone touched us. All the stones they caused to descend to us, yet we remained unharmed, untouched. During the onslaught of stone I witnessed a stone thrown by the hand of Licius descend to us and then return back up to the offenders and connect with the face of Agricola, smashing in his teeth. After this happened, through his bleeding mouth, Agricola ordered the stoning to cease and that we forty were to be locked into prison once again.
And so, once again, we were locked away into our dark cell. We gave glory to God and thanked Him that we were deemed worthy to suffer for His name, that we could be considered worthy of receiving the afflictions suffered by the Apostles, the great bishops and priests before us, and the many martyrs of the past. As we entered into prayer together we were once again greeted by a heavenly voice which said unto us "He who believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live. Be brave and fear not, for you shall obtain imperishable crowns." We knew this was the voice of Christ, our Lord and God, and we rejoiced and sang hymns.
Now most of the men rest, awaiting the fate we feel coming in the morning. I am unaware of how many of these brothers fully understood the words spoken by our Lord, but I at least know the implication. If these crowns are the same as the crown spoken of by Paul the Apostle and Saint then we shall earn this crown through death, which means martyrdom awaits us all in the morning. This is the reason why I now write in this journal all that has transpired for us men during out persecution, so the other Christian people may know that we were strong in our faith in Christ and to encourage them to remain strong in their sufferings as well. I write this at the edge of the cell, using the light of the dawn which is barely shining through the window of our prison. Very soon we shall learn what our fate is, and I pray that we may glorify our God through our witness. If this journal does make it into the hands of a Christian, spread the word to the bishops, the priests, and the faithful only for the purpose of encouraging them.
Glory be to Jesus Christ. May our witnesses be a cause for more souls to worship the one true God. May the Christians know that the forty men of the XII Legion stayed strong this last night together, and that we will go as brothers towards our fate.
Aglaius
I feel as if I am desecrating a holy text by writing in this journal, but I must record these events which mine eyes have seen. I will not touch the words written by Theophilus, but if one of the followers of the man Jesus Christ finds this journal then they must know what took place after Theophilus made his last entry. I write this in the cold of the night next to a fire incapable of keeping away the cold of the night.
My name is Aglaius, a legionnaire set to guard the men over the execution of these forty men. This morning the legion was brought before Licius and Agricola once again, and it was clear that the two intended to conclude this trial today. Agricola appealed to the men once more to make a sacrifice to the gods and they will be set free and allowed to return their military work with the promotions he had promised in the past. The forty were silent for but a moment, then the gray haired Theophilus stepped forth and spoke for the men: “We will not sacrifice. To do so is to betray our faith.” The other thirty-nine nodded in agreement with the statement.
Agricola made a final appeal to the men saying “But what of your comrades? Consider – you alone of Caesar’s troops defy him! Think of the disgrace you bring upon your legion.”
The men remained unswayed, and Cyrion said “To disgrace the name of our Lord Jesus is more terrible still. You can offer us nothing that would replace what we would lose in the life to come. We have learned to deny our bodies where our souls are at stake.”
Agricola then turned to Licius and told him to deliver his judgement. What a terrible judgement it was. It is not deep into winter here in Sebaste, and no matter how many layers of clothing you wear the cold still finds its way into your bones. That was to be the punishment of the men, freezing the men to their very center. Outside the walls of Sebaste is a small lake, which is now covered in a thin layer of ice that will be broken through if you but touch it. Into this lake is where the soldiers would be sent, to reside in until they died from the cold.
As the sentencing was declared for the men the XII Legion said nothing. They did not seem afraid, they looked exactly as they had before the sentencing, firmly resolved in this god they believe in. They must be afraid, but they do not show it.
Those of us tasked with guarding the men of the legion, along with the governor and judge, then escorted the men outside the prison. The wind blows heavily, snow covers the ground, and the sun is hidden by clouds so there is the memory of warmth left me the moment we stepped out into the world. As we walked through the snow I pondered how brutal and terrible an execution this was, and how great will be the suffering of these men. When we arrived at the lake Agricola gave the order that we strip the men of their clothes so that they enter the lake naked, exposing their shame to we the onlookers as they would slowly die.
As I and the other guards approached the eldest of the men named Cyrion stopped us, and loudly proclaimed to Agricola that they will do it themselves. So they took off their clothing, leaving not even their loincloths, and helping the others who were becoming too stiff from the cold to take off their clothing as well. As they were stripping one of the men said to his fellow legionnaires "We are soldiers of the Lord and fear no hardship," and another responded "What is our death but entrance into eternal life?" Then, before Agricola could give the order to drive the men into the lake the men of the legion turned together as a regiment towards the water and began singing one of their holy songs I had heard them sing before. With this hymn of theirs they marched together into the lake, wading into the deepest point where their waists were submerged.
The singing continued. Agricola seemed perplexed at the men, but only for a moment, then he gave each of us guards orders. We were to light fires around the lake and stand guard so that none of the men escaped. There were to be no less than two of us at each fire. Some of the men he sent back to the prison to fetch baths which would be warmed by the fires. Made for the purpose of enticing the men out from the lake and to give up their foolish faith, said Agricola. I was placed at the fire with Agricola and a few other guards. Licius had returned to the prison with those fetching the baths likely to begin his journey home.
Above the howling of the wind we could often hear the hymns sung by the men in the lake. They huddled closely together to try to keep warm for as long as possible. They regularly rotated those on the inmost part of their huddle to the outside to take turns in the center and at the perimeter. Often it seemed that those eldest like Cyrion spent much of his time on the outside, as if by choice, until he was forcibly drawn into the center by the other men. There is a brotherhood in these men, one greater than that I have seen and that I feel with the my brothers in arms.
Now I have caught up to the present moment. The sun has set near an hour past, and the wind has seemingly retired for the night but with the memory of the sun now gone the cold is no better than before. As I scribe in this journal what I have seen take place to these men I feel my hands seizing up from the cold, and I am next to the largest fire of the perimeter of the lake so how cold must those men be in those frigid waters.
I first noticed this journal in the pile of clothing left behind by the men of the XII Legion and took it out of curiosity, but did not read it. Then, not long before the sun set, while I was watching the shivering men in the lake I noticed the youngest member of the legion facing away from the group. I thought him to be staring at the sunset and missing the warmth of the day, but when I followed his vision I saw that he was instead gazing at a figure on a hill, standing in front of the sunset. As the sunlight began to fade I could see more clearly that the figure is that of a woman, and an older woman at that. Perhaps the boy's mother, by the similarity of their features.
What struck me and caused me to finally open this journal, then write what I have seen in it, was the interaction I saw of the mother and her son. I could only barely see the woman's face at sunset from a distance, and from what I could see there was sadness marking her face, yet there was also something more, perhaps pride. Then while I was watching I saw her raise her right hand to the center of her forehead and trace a line with her thumb vertically, then horizontally. Then I looked at the young soldier in the water and saw him mirror the sign on the forehead back to her. I recall that the followers of Jesus Christ were said to have an obsession with the symbol of the crucifix on which the man they call a god was killed, and perhaps this was once again the sign they use.
The woman still now stands upon the hill, unnoticed by all except me, and no man could notice her unless they walked by her because of the darkness of the night.
As the sun was setting I heard a prayer said by one of the men in the lake, where he said "Lord, we are forty engaged in this contest. Grant that forty may receive crowns of glory." As the night has continued on I hear this prayer repeated. I can say very little about these Christians, as I believe this is the first time I have encountered one in the open, but there is something about their faith that is unmatched by those following the other gods. I have seen men in battle and even in the comfort of their own homes change their devotion to another god that they think will hear them in that moment, but these men refuse to acknowledge any god but their own.
And the way that they treat each other, it is so abnormal that were I to tell another person what these men are like they would think I was wine-drunk and telling tales. I do not know what it is about these Christians and their god, but they are different. They continue to sing hymns, comforting each other, and praying constantly, sometimes altogether and sometimes with one leading the others. And the only times that their prayer comes close to sounding like a plea for saving or glory, they do not ask that it be to save them from this lake but instead that when they die in the lake that they may be in the presence of their God.
Once again I hear the prayer of the men, "Lord, we are forty engaged in this contest. Grant that forty may receive crowns of glory." I will return to my watch and perhaps may pass this onto a Christian if I ever find one again.
Conviction has seized me. These men have something that I do not have, and I so desperately need to have it now. I am a witness to the love, kindness, the compassion these men not only have for each other, but also for these torturers surrounding them on the shore of the lake, myself among them.
Throughout this cold night Agricola has done what I now see as a mocking of the men and their faith by attempting to coax them out of the water and into the baths of hot water which he has with the fires around the lake. The other guards do the same to the legion, some perhaps out of pity, others mocking them for what they see as foolish pride. But I see the truth, there is no pride in these men, they have simply abandoned the desires and comforts of this world and instead have chosen to forsake this life in order to honor their God. I have never before seen such zealotry for the divine, and never have I seen such gentleness as I see in their hearts. They could deride us, sling curses at their torturers, but when I see a guard hurl an insult towards them instead I see they offer prayers for their persecutor.
As they continually pray that their number of forty remain, just moments ago one of the men in the center of the huddle, whom I recognize as the legionnaire Pius, made his way to the outer edge of the group to take his turn on the outside I thought, but instead he continued on walking towards the shore, to my fire with Agricola. When Pius made it to the fire he started getting into the bath with the help of other guards, but the moment his body was submerged in the hot water he seized up and died. The change from deeply cold water to very hot water put him into shock and killed him instantly.
What's more, when Pius was leaving the group his fellow soldiers called out to him with words of strength and tried inviting him back with them, but Pius would not listen. All the way up until the moment he died the other men were calling him to join back with those in the lake. I even saw men kneel down into the water so that even up to their necks they were submerged and began praying for their fellow soldier leaving them. After Pius' death they renewed their singing, with a fervor that they had when they first entered the lake.
And just now I have witnessed something from them that I cannot rationalize. These men continue to pray, and I feel nothing but love for them and wish that I had a brotherhood as they have, and I wish I could know a god the way that they know their God. Apparently this God cares for them in the way that they care for him, or perhaps to a greater degree. And as I was contemplating this, yearning for what they have, I received a vision, one that I still see before me, which has prompted me to write all this down for a Christian to read when all of this is ended.
As I looked out upon the men in the lake when I gained this desire to have a brotherhood like them, I then saw a light like that of the sun shining just onto the men. I was amazed at this, yet nobody else reacted to this heavenly vision and so I realized that I am the only one granted to see this. Then I saw a host of beings that looked divine hovering above the heads of the men. They looked like gods, yet these god-like beings were holding shining golden crowns above the heads of the men, ready to crown these men. Then I recalled what one of the men had said, "What is death but entrance into eternal life?" While the men were imprisoned and when I was watching over them I now recall one of them speaking about "the crown of the martyr", and I now see the crowns they were speaking of.
Then I felt the need to count these beings. There are thirty-nine men in the lake, but I count forty of these beings from heaven. Each being is hovering with the crown inches above the head of a man, but there is one being that holds a crown without a head beneath it. This being has a crown that was meant for Pius, but now is perhaps available to be claimed.
While I was just writing, I felt this urge to join the men. Perhaps this brotherhood and this faith possessed by these men, perhaps it is something that I can have, perhaps I can have it now. Just as I had that thought, I looked up at the heavenly beings again, and I saw the one holding the crown without a head to bestow it on, and the being was looking at me. He smiled softly, and extended his arms with the crown as if to invite me to join the men. It is as if he is saying that the crown can be mine, if I choose it. And I do choose it. I do not know all of what it means to be a Christian, but if the God that these men follow is worthy of this suffering that they choose to endure, I will follow this God as well. I cannot count myself as a great man, as the freezing men before me are, but my hope it to receive either death or salvation alongside them - whichever is fitting in the eyes of the Lord God, Jesus Christ.
I write the preceding and these following words to share with other Christians, not so that they may think me a great man, but for encouragement so that they may see by witness even the hearts of their torturers may be turned when they show such great love as did this legion of Godly men. I will excuse myself from the fire and if anyone asks I will say that I am relieving myself in the woods - which is true, but rather than relieving myself of fluids I will relieve myself of this journal to the woman on the hill, the mother to the young soldier. My hope is that the mother, and all Christians, in reading this find some comfort. And whatever prayers are proper for us men as we die, and after we die, I ask that you say them for us all.
Aeliana
It is the day post the torturers of the lake, and although I am grieved I feel compelled to write what took place so that all Christians today and forever may know what transpired there. And so, I write in this journal to continue past the moment of the soldier Aglaius and his final entry onto paper. I do this to let other Christians know of the faith of these fallen men.
I, Aeliana, visited my son, Meliton, the youngest of the XII Legion, every day of his imprisonment, and yesterday on my way to visit him once again I saw the prisoners being led out into the cold and unto the frozen lake. Meliton warned me the day prior that we would not speak again, and I see now that he was right.
As I watched the men of virtue brave the cold, watched Pius flee to the fires, I prayed constantly for them and their deliverance. At first when they were walked to the edge of the lake I wished most of all for them to be delivered from the hands of these men that they may return to their lives, but the moment these men stripped off their garments and began singing together I knew that this willing acceptance of suffering would please the Lord God, and so I prayed only that these men be given the strength to persevere unto the end God has planned for them.
During the night I was terribly frightened when one of the soldiers snuck up behind me and acknowledged me. It was the soldier Aglaius, and he came to confess to me that he now wished to be Christian. He fell at my feet and begged for my forgiveness for his part in the suffering of my son, and I told him that forgiveness is not necessary because I had surrendered all that took place today to the Lord, but if it is necessary for you then I will speak the words, I forgive you. With tears in his eyes he rose and thanked me, handed me the journal in which I write, and confessed his intention to join the men in their assured demise. He then asked what he needed to do to become a Christian, and I told him to ask the men which he intends to join to baptize him, repent of his wrongdoings in life, and believe in Christ the Lord. With this he thanked me and returned the way he came.
Aglaius then reemerged at the fireside alongside Agricola. Because of the light wind picking up again and blowing from the men to me, I could hear all that was said. Aglaius stood before Agricola and announced with a loud voice that all across the lake could hear, "I too am a Christian." Then he stripped himself of his armor, weapons, and clothing, and then descended into the lake. The guards around the lake, as well as Agricola, were too shocked so protest Aglaius, and so sat silently watching him him join the others of the lake.
As the newly-professed Christian Aglaius entered the lake a few of the legion noticed and got the attention of the others, and quickly all the man began cheering for their new brother as he approached. Once Aglaius reached them he was embraced by many of them, with Meliton being the first one to bring attention to Aglaius' coming and the first one to welcome him. Though Meliton protested, he was immediately brought to the center of the circle of men where it was warmest. Meliton and Theophilus spoke for a few moments, then space was made in the center and the new Christian was baptized. As he arose from the freezing water the other thirty-nine laughed, likely because of Aglais' exuberant shivering and wide eyes from the cold water. Faintly I then heard Aglaius say "Lord God, I believe in You, in Whom these soldiers believe. Add me to their number, and make me worthy to suffer with Your servants." The men cheered, then prayed the Our Father prayer as Christ taught Christians to say, then they sang hymns with renewed fervor that banished away the quiet of this wintered night.
Then came the morning, and the men were dead. The guards awoke at the call of Agricola and began gathering the bodies of the martyrs and placing them on carts. I heard orders shouted that the bodies should be burned, and this must be because word had spread about the Christian veneration of our dead saints. Then Agricola left the guards to their work, riding away to the fire of his home.
As the bodies of the holy martyrs were being placed onto carts, I noticed my son about to be laid into one as well, then the guards instead laid him on the ground and continued loading the others into carts. I felt the Spirit stir up in me and without care of the guards seeing me I ran down to the shore of the lake to my son. He still breathed, but only barely. Guards approached me, but did nothing, seeming to know that we are mother and son and so let me be.
I prayed over him and spoke to him, telling him to persevere unto the end, to trust in God and join his brothers in arms when the Lord wills it. Though I could not hear any words come from him, his lips moved in a silent prayer, saying Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me as his father taught him to do.
The bodies of all the other soldiers were finished loading on the cart, and they started rolling away leaving behind my still-living son. I knew that my son would want to be with his friends, and so I raised him up upon my shoulders and followed behind the carts to the place the men were planning to burn the bodies. From the lake to the fire was less than half a mile, and when the carts had nearly reached their destination I felt my Meliton take his last breath. Then I cried out that he is dead, and the carts stopped moving. Guards came to check that he truly was dead, then added him to the cart. After this the guards did not tolerate my presence any longer and drove me away.
I now write a week after the martyrdom of the forty men at Sebaste for a final entry. The bones and ashes of the men were thrown into the river after their bodies were scorched in order to make it even more difficult for we Christians to recover them. But through the guidance of the Holy Spirit our bishop Peter and several of the elders recovered many of the remains of the men today at a curve in the river where many bones had gathered. These have now been committed into the ground and a funeral said.
I pray that this journal is shared not only in the Christian community in Sebaste, but also throughout the Christian world, that others may know of the bravery of the men of the XII and of their love for Christ. To the Christian women, seek out men as brave as these and build up those men you know that they may meet such a Godly end one day. To the men, strive to be in as close of a relationship with the Lord as these men that you glorify Him so well that the world deems you too dangerous to be alive and so are deserving of death.
These are the names of these holy martyred men, seek out their intercession that you may love God as much as they: Cyrion, Candidus, Domnus, Hesychius, Heraclius, Smaragdus, Eunicus, Valens, Vivianus, Claudius, Priscus, Theodulus, Eutychius, John, Xanthius, Helianus, Sisinius, Aglaius, Aetius, Flavius, Acacius, Ecdicius, Lysimachus, Alexander, Elias, Gorgonius, Theophilus, Dometian, Gaius, Leontius, Athanasius, Cyril, Sacerdon, Nicholas, Valerius, Philoctimon, Severian, Chudion, Aglaius, and Meliton.
Note for the readers:
This is a speculative embellishment of the story of the 40 Martyrs of Sebaste, which really did happen. The quotes of what the men said are pulled from writings of the Church Fathers and so we have reason to believe that early Christians had the tradition of these saints saying what we attribute to them. The intention of this article is to speculate into the lives of the men and the witnesses of the men's martyrdom in order to bring this tale from history past the status of just being a story, and help the readers connect with it more.
For this story it should be clear, there are no journals left behind by the martyrs, thus comes the artistic speculation that is this article. All of the overarching events did take place according to what records we do have, but specific details are unknown, thus the embellishment in the story. Details such as the name of the mother and name of the soldier who apostatized were speculation, but the other names are true. If you wish to find out all of what is really true, you may do your own research or look at the below links to learn more.
Though this is a tale with speculation added to the story, the embellishment does not make it any less true. Obviously, do not take as gospel my personal insertions into how each character reacted to specific moments, but my speculation is not outlandish according to what we know. The intention of this embellished story is to help you, the reader, connect more with these real men and the mother, so you may be inspired by the tales of their heroic faith and remember their story to tell to others.
Resources to learn more about the story of these men and of the XII Legion:
Written for VME Catholic, by Ethan Hall
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