236 - A God, Stately

Terrence

Lin has been very positive today.

But they're also showing signs of quite a bit of sadness.

From what I can tell, it's to do with healing some stuff to do with their feminine side.

I know they've been afraid, and I know they hold a lot of hurt in their heart. And I would do anything to make that better for them, even if it's only a little bit.

We walk through Brest again, arms around each other's waists. Their family is with us, to heal some trauma of their own.

Gods only know how much all of us need this.

As we approach the Château, I ruffle Lin's hair, and they snuggle up to me in response.

You're safe. I've got you.

Ma kared...

I know. You just relax and have fun, ok?

They nod, arms still very much around me, which I honestly appreciate as we all enter the Château, the historical energy of this place wafting over us.

Somehow, I can sense the Osismii heritage in this place, and I know that everyone else can sense it, too. 

This land, this fortress, was once ours.

Aventana sounds morose. 

Those evil Roman brutes tore away our tower brick by brick, and the sanctuary we Gods had at Miisös.

Taranis nods.

It had always been a strategic point for us, as it gave a decent view of both land and sea. A perfect defence port.

We'll get it back.

I think all of us are surprised when Lin speaks up. Up until this point, Lin has been uncharacteristically quiet.

Ya, we will.

Here and now, it seems, we've made a promise in this fortress, made by our enemies - to take back what's ours. And that, in and of itself, is wonderful.

Continuing our journey through, we end up at Azenor's tower.

You remember the myth, right?

Of course I remember. Princess Azenor, accused of infidelity by her asshole of a stepmother, got cast into the sea in a chest. It was her prayer to Brigid to live that saved her life, and she ended up on Irish shores. 

From there, her, her son and later, her husband, travelled between the Celtic nations, spreading the wrong God's words. 

But maybe the fact that she was saved by a church was, in fact, no coincidence, and a way to avoid her stepmother's treachery from ever befalling her again.

Perhaps, it was a way to survive. Back then, to spit on the cross would have been a death sentence.

The tower reminds me of the one world locked me in.

The architecture's pretty similar to what it would have been at the time. Draping my arm over their shoulders, I sigh.

You won't ever be locked up in that way again. You're free now.

This castle, this stately home, this former prison, this fortress - it reeks of blood and history and people who had their rights, their property, stolen.

Just like Lin has.

This repeating pattern of having things stolen from them in life - their ancestry, their family, their home, their sanctity, their safety - it ends now.

Do you feel ready to heal your ancestral line?

Vigour emanates from Lin as they nod, and I smile.

Then let's do it.