248 - A God, A Liberator

Cathy

As we ride along the Renk (Rance), I smile.

I know that Lin's going to enjoy doing this.

Today has been a lot more tumultuous emotionally for Lin than was expected in the first half of the day.

Waking up from what felt like being sexually assaulted on the astral is far from pleasant, and Epo was furious.

From what I heard, Anansi read the perpetrator for filth in response.

Usually, he wouldn't turn up out of the blue unless he were making a grand entrance, but he didn't seem to come with much ceremony this time - which means he was likely really pissed off.

We've spent most of the day riding up the Renk.

Last night, we docked for the night, which was surprisingly relaxing. Lin didn't sleep well, but they rarely do.

Besides that, Lin has actually been relatively relaxed.

However, they definitely need help with their impulse buying.

Saying that, if they had a larger source of income, this would probably be less of a problem.

Perhaps I should broach this to Vesunna.

On the subject of our journey, we're liberating Malo.

Frankly, the Christians shouldn't have even made camp there, as it's known to be a sacred non human grove and cove, but of course, the cross fuckers took that as an excuse to corrupt the area with their lies.

During the time before the invasion, Malo was one of Lin's favourite places.

As a Sal person and a selkie, for Lin, it was one of the safest places along the coast to be able to express their divinity and non human features. As a Sal person myself, it infuriates me that the church had the nerve to commit such sacrilege as to name it after a saint. It has meant that those who had nowhere else to go were either corrupted, made sick, killed or enslaved by those self serving bastards.

The nerve they had to preach righteousness whilst committing genocide is ironic.

Malo, or as we Gauls know it, Alïvi, was already one of the worst affected areas by the Roman Empire. When they left, we thought we might finally be able to live in peace. Obviously not.

So, we're going to take back what's ours.

Closing my eyes, I sniff the air, and smile.

We're nearly there. I can smell the salt.

I can feel the church brutes waiting for us, shitting in their cassocks. Stopping the boat, we all each disembark, with Lin leaving last, baring their opalite teeth with a grin.

Consider this the end of your reign.

The bracelet on their left wrist shines, and I realise.

You got approval from the unicorn!

The priests shrink back.

Impossible!

Lin just quietly smickers.

The very word you use spells "I'm possible." Perhaos you should choose your next words more carefully.

Both men whip out what look like police batons.

Begone, foul demon!

Myself and Lin exchange looks, and cackle. The rest of our family sneaks on ahead, presumably to get rid of the most annoying clerics.

I'll admit, I might be related to demons - but I myself am far more than that.

They step forward, leaning in close to the priest shaking the most.

I am a God. Technically, the patron God of this gorgeous nation of Breizh.

And you and your heretics have insulted me and the heritage of this nation.

Usually, I would try to be understanding, given that the cross is all you know - but you have approached me with violent intent.

Before they can protest, Lin holds up a hand.

And before you try to accuse me and mine of hypocrisy, we Gods carry weapons as protection and sacred objects of ceremony and cleansing. We only engage in violence if we feel we must. Whereas you...

They smirk.

Not only have you approached me and my dear cousin with weapons clearly intended to hurt us with, are you also disobeying your own holy text by doing so. Ironic, isn't it? That you're being shown the error of your ways and your own hypocrisy from a long line of ancestral hypocrisy and lies, all because you had to shove your religion down the throats of innocent people. Non humans who only asked to live in peace.

I don't have to use Tarässas. In fact, I probably won't.

They smile sweetly.

Not when I can do this.

They tap the priest closest to them on the head, and he crumples to the floor, dead. The other priest stares at them in horror.

Maybe your ancestors should have kept the books that we wrote about ourselves instead of burning them. But then again, your lot were never truly that smart, were you?

They turn to me, silently indicating with their eyes, and I know what they're asking me to do. 

Tell your friends.

I poke him right in his third eye, grinning, and he runs, screaming about death. We both chuckle, shaking our heads.

How do they live with that bullshit in their heads?

My thoughts exactly.

As we walk through, we watch as the people who attack us are gently, yet effectively, taken care of by our family - not one person is given the brutality we would usually give, mainly because there are a significant amount of civilians here, and we need to cause the least amount of trauma possible.

Esus and Arvensis approach us holding the bishop of the area by the scruff of his neck.

We told him we'd be merciful, but he spat at us.

Lin snorts.

Call a sermon. 

Let's see how long this priest can keep his composure.

They nod, calling out to Maltan and Vesunna, who call everyone to 'mass'.

This won't be mass, but it sure as hell will be a Sabbat celebration.

The civilians follow us inside the main cathedral, watching as Terrence quietly gets rid of any and all pigeons within the rafters with the singing sword. They take seats in the pews, speaking amongst themselves, all in tongues I understand - and it seems they welcome this change. A pleasant surprise, for sure.

As Lin strolls to the altar of the cathedral, Esus and Arvensis drag the priest to the front, placing him in front of Lin, bound.

I apologise for not having announced our visit to your town earlier, but this was an emergency.

I also apologise for having to destroy a significant part of your town's culture, but it has poisoned your minds and souls for far too long.

They gesture towards the priest.

And this man has forsaken the very kindness, the very mercy, that his religion, and perhaps to this point yours as well, had taught him.

This man allowed for the murder, rape, poisoning, sacrilege and parasitism against the land spirits of your home, against the Gods of your home. Spirits and Gods who have protected these sacred lands since before Christianity even existed on this Sim.

As they speak, the priest coughs, but Lin ignores him.

Spirits who have protected all of you. Because they love this land, and they love you.

As you can see, our dismantling of the Christian defence over this town was nothing short of merciful - and whilst I understand that some of you may have reservations about watching potential acquaintances or even loved ones die, I implore you to understand - these priests intended us harm, violence, without even knowing the purpose of our visit.

They were happy to mutilate and murder the very Gods who have sworn to protect you!

The crowd begins to hiss, and I realise that they're glaring at the priest as they do so.

We came here to liberate and protect you from the evil that has corrupted this land, to give you the choice to finally be an independent nation again. Of course, that is completely your choice.

Poppycock!

Head bowed, the priest attempts to approach Lin, but trips over this bindings.

Do you not see the divine whore, Lilith, before you?

Lin flinches. That was far from acceptable. Lin rolls their shoulders, but their jaw is set as he continues.

This woman sets out to trick you, to lead you astray through worshipping at the altar of demons. She is a -

How dare he?!

I dare not mention the word he used to refer to Lin with, but it's a slur, specifically for a dóngmâl Sal person like themself. And the nerve he had to refer to them with female pronouns makes me think he was in cahoots with world, at least at some point.

Terrence looks as though he could murder him, too.

You dare insult the God Of All, God Of None?

We all turn, and standing there is a tall black man in a fedora and a navy suit. If looks could kill, that priest would be stone cold on the floor.

Claud!

He smiles, nodding to them.

Your Eminence.

He turns to the crowd, gesturing at Lin.

This God not only replaced two Gaulish moons in one night on our people's behalf, but gave Nantes back its rightful place as a city of Breizh, and despite this summer's hot weather, gave us the most bountiful harvest we've had thus far since 2019.

The fact that this priest dares to insult your patron God, is not only an insult to everybody i this room, but an insult to Breizh itself.

Clamours of agreement come from the pews, and I smile, as this friend of Lin's continues.

This man, by putting insult to this benevolent, kind God, especially to their sex, asks for death. For that is the sentence of spiritually attacking the Head God of this Sim.

Judging by this priest's change in expression, he's realised he's fucked up.

Does anyone disagree?

A very resounding "Nann" echoes through the cathedral, and Lin smiles softly, before giving this man the last cross he'll ever bear.

As payment for the insult that priest has made, and for the safety of the townsfolk, this cathedral will burn tonight.

The congregation cheers, leaving us in this sacrilegious monument with Lin covered in blood, hovering over yet another dead body.

They fall to their knees, crying blood, throwing up blood and crows. Terrence holds them as they do.

Get Belenos, now!

Maltan sprints the fastest I've ever seen her out of the cathedral, presumably to call him now.

He'll burn in this house of worship he loved so much.

And if anyone ever dares to insult my wife like that again, I'll take care of them myself.

I shiver, despite the heat. Terrence's anger feels like a frozen knifepoint on my spine. He rarely gets massively angry, but if it's to do with Lin being harmed, he'd burn the Sim to smithereens if he thought it would be recompense for Lin's suffering.

At least the people are amicable.

Sweeney nods, gently carrying a now unconscious Lin out of the cathedral, with Terrence by his side.

Aye. Fer now though, Lin needs treatment.

But mark my words, those church bastards will pay.