On creating a religion

19/10/2025

When I was a little boy, I wanted to be a professional footballer. Not “dreamed of being,” not “hoped to be” — I assumed I would be one. Unless, of course, I did something so bad that God personally vetoed the plan. Then (because parents always insisted on a plan B) I’d naturally lower myself to becoming an astronaut.

Spoiler alert : I became neither.

The football dream didn’t last long anyway. Not because I suddenly realised I was rubbish at it (though I was), but because Scottish football, at least at the top levels, was riddled with sectarianism. In my opinion it still is — maybe not as bad as when I was young, but bad enough. The violence, the hatred, and the absurd extremes carried out in the name of something that wasn’t even football put me off the sport for life.

But it planted a different seed. Religion has fascinated me ever since. Not just Christianity, which I grew up with, but Judaism, Islam, Hinduism, Buddhism, Shinto, and all the other isms. What interests me isn’t the doctrines themselves so much as the reality: the divisions, the biases, the conflicts, and the sheer mess of it all.

That’s what I miss when I read fantasy religions. Too often they’re neat, virtuous, self-contained things. Real-world religions? They’re anything but neat. They’re wonderfully messy, contradictory, and (to borrow a military term) gloriously FUBAR.

And I love it.

I blame the environment I grew up in, and the broken dreams of my youth.

So when I started building religions for Thayathorn, I turned first to Christianity (and, inevitably, all the others that swirl around in my head). No fantasy author I’ve read has ever quite captured the same level of chaos. So I thought — why not try?

The first faith I created was that of Aoleth. He’s a warrior king. His teachings dismiss charity as weakness. His church is, frankly, racist. (If you’re particularly sensitive, devout, or allergic to offence, now might be the time to stop reading.)

Because here’s the twist: despite all the differences, the Aolenn faith is entirely inspired by Christianity. Not the message — Jesus does not cameo in Thayathorn — but the structure.

Think about it:

• A miraculous event that promises hope to the world.
• Apostles and saints.
• The Rhan (think Pope).
• A dominant mainstream church (the Orthodoxy), with bishops and martyrs.
• Evangelicals and “new holy lands” (the New Guilders).
• Rebellious reformers (the Ethuists), spawning endless splinter sects (Kalanists, Shieldbearers, and so on).
• Street-level violence, ignorance, and bigotry.
• And, naturally, a devil.

Add conspiracies, corruption, and a few frothing zealots — and there you have it.

It’s messy. It’s confusing. It’s riddled with contradictions. In other words, it’s human. And for me, that’s the very heart of what Thayathorn is trying to capture.