46 - A God, Mobilising

Lin

I came to a serious realisation in the social yet unsociable hours I've become accustomed to.

It may bring some hilarity to you, but admittedly, I seem to have quite a lot of my most important epiphanies in the bathroom. I suppose it's a place of contemplation.

I've noticed that a lot of my talk about what I can and can't do has been very much based around what the voldys told me I could and couldn't do, and around disability and illness.

This whole time, I've been trying to find an ailment, a list of burdens to carry to validate my need for support, social interaction and my needs as a whole. And whilst I do have problems that need fixing, the problems I'm searching for and finding in myself are the direct opposite of what I actually believe and want to believe about myself.

I did not leave only to wallow in 'not being able to do anything' once I got out. Especially for myself.

All of that negative talk about myself and how I wasn't able, how I was struggling with fatigue and anxiety, etc, whilst it definitely could be caused by C-PTSD, it shouldn't prevent me from doing the things that I want to do, whether that's getting a job, going to appointments or anything else.

Bathrooms are where you clean yourself of shit, so I suppose me figuring this out was another process of doing just that.

I had always been told by the voldys that living within NT society would be difficult for me, and that I would likely rely on others for the rest of my life. I wasn't expected to amount to much, and if I was, it had to be something that would be useful to them.

I was very much a slave to their will, as opposed to the daughter they loved very much, which they pretended I was when they wanted something.

Not that I was ever truly female, but there you go.

The idea of having carers was consistently thrown at me, I was constantly told that I couldn't manage my finances and that independence wasn't an option for me, and that it would be on mrs voldy's terms.

This was a virtual contract that I had never agreed to.

I had become a living doll for these people, always expected to do exactly what they wanted. I couldn't outshine voldy jnr, I had to always be within reach and I was never to modify myself without permission.

Too late now. I've disobeyed all of it.

What are you going to do about it?

Nothing, I expect. Because you can't do anything.

I know everything now. You were never my parents in the first place. You snatched me from my real parents.

And now, I'm going to retrieve my crown.

Watch.

Today I've written at least six partial chapter summaries for one of my Christmas novels. I'm hoping to finish the summaries today if I can, and then write a chapter or two before Advent arrives.

I'm already eight days into the month. Only 23 summaries to go, so not too bad.

I spoke to one of my friends about my realisation as I was having it, and it majorly helped.

So much of it was internalised bullshit that I'd been told all my life. They didn't want me to try hard to be good at anything because they didn't want me to be. They expected that my life would run according to their approval. Essentially, I was a sentient puppet. Pinocchio, but worse.

I honestly don't think I've been so motivated to live my life to this extent for a while.

Honestly, it's refreshing.

This whole time I was sat here waiting for something to fall into my lap so I could just run away. 

But the only way I was able to run away in the first place was by making the decision to do so, then actually doing it. None of what I have would be mine, including my freedom, if I hadn't made the choice.

And I'm now making the choice to take back my sovereignity and move out as soon as possible, for the sake of my own health, sanity and happiness.

The only constant in my life is me. So I'd better make that constant worth it.

I know I'm more than capable of doing it. I am independent already.

Those words I was spouting most certainly weren't mine. And I won't spout them ever again.

On Michael's grave, I won't do it again.

Are you sure you want to swear on that?

Wait, am I hearing the Hesperides?

You are.

But it's literally morning.

It's always 5pm somewhere.

Fair point. What brings you here?

We have a proposition for you. It'll help you with getting out of that house. And yes, the nemeton is fine.

I rarely talk to more than one God, let alone three evening nymphs. They're liminal time Gods, ever within one phase of the day, celebrating the twilight that always is somewhere, a window between light and darkness.

I've rarely spoken to them, but I know that they're the Moirai's children, tutored by both Nyx and Hemera, learning to honour the sacred nature of liminal space and time that the gloaming gives us before Nyx waves her shawl over us all.

What kind of proposition?

One you'll like.

I might need you to be more specific.

Alright. We know already that you've always been close to our mothers, and we appreciate how much you've helped and been there for them, and consequentially us, when there has been need for it.

What we want to give you is a route through our time that will cover you for long enough to manifest your way out. However, this can also be used at any time. Which means when you want to go to Greenwich to reclaim the area, you'll also be able to use the evening passage to travel without using the same amount of time you would during the day or night. 

Essentially, it would mean that you would be unaccounted for entirely. It erases any kind of footprint you would have spiritually within that time frame, and no one but us would know that you've used it.

You used to manage all of these passages, but it seems that you have been unable to fulfil this duty recently.

It hasn't exactly been safe for me to use time passages in that way until now.

But you have your own.

Liminal space is an exception. And I govern that domain. Everywhere else is attached to someone else, and I can't guarantee that I'll be safe if those people turn out to be using skins that don't belong to them.

Fair point. But the Evening Road is now safe for your use. 

What would you like in return?

Chocolate cake.

Weird request, but ok.

I place three plates of chocolate cake on the offering altar, alongside three silver rings adorned with fire opal, mother of pearl and diamonds. In the back of each gem, there is a glyph for teleportation to a safe house, which is made for infinite use.

I figured I'd owe you more for that.

You really are too kind.

A bracelet of silver and amber appears on my altar in the nemeton. Inside lies an inscription of a glyph, that looks like some sort of emergency summoning spell.

Wait.

This summons Tyche.

With her permission?

Yes. A projection of her, but yes. Infinite use. Good luck, cousin.

Thank you.