268 - A God, Contrary

Lin

I am absolutely fuming.

Apparently the DWP have decided to lower my rate of PIP, despite my worsened state.

This is not something I'll let slide.

Given that my ability to go outside has significantly decreased, and the promise they made to keep my benefits in place for at least the next two years until they reviewed my situation again (a promise they made last year), what makes them think they have the right to change their minds without telling me?

Once I retain control over everything, things are going to change.

Claiming London would be the easiest way of solving it, but it comes with huge risk, especially to my wellbeing, if that's the route I decide to take.

Regardless of how angry I am, I have to keep my head, as opposed to following impulses.

Just because I'm angry, doesn't mean I should lose all sense of sanity over an easily solved mishap in how I've been treated.

They'll figure out that I'm a God soon enough.

And they will treat me as such.

Having said that I won't claim London, here I am, lighting a green candle with its name carved into it.

Somehow, I know this is what I deserve - a capital of commerce, a decent lifestyle, a hub full of creatives and art and music and joy, despite its fundamental need for healing at its heart.

If there's anyone who can heal London, it's me.

Despite my anxiety and my hunger, I feel that now I've claimed London, I can rest.

For now, at least.

Based on what I know, world has been using London as a base of operations.

Now, I've smoked him out - and he'll have few places to go soon enough.

Whilst I'm thinking this, I feel someone ruffle my hair. Robin takes a seat next to me in the nemeton, grinning.

So we've conferred with a few different people from each of the Celtic nations...

He pauses for dramatic effect.

And we all agreed that Celtos ought to have a king.

My heart wells up, and I smile with a lump in my throat.

You chose me, didn't you?

He nods.

Who else would we choose?

Given the current situation, you'd be the most appropriate. You know where to stop, you give people what they need and want, and you're talented to boot at so many things.

Kings aren't just meant to be warriors - they're meant to be healers. We should at least be doing that one right.

The tears fall from my eyes quicker than I can stop them from doing so, and Robin quietly hands me the tissue box.

You deserve this, Lin.

You deserve the lavish lifestyle that was taken from you, that's yours by right as a God. You deserve to be comfortable and know that your needs will be provided for - and taking London is the start of all that.

I nod, dabbing at my face.

All this time, I felt like wanting to claim what was rightfully mine, wanting to toot my own horn every now and again, was in some manner, greedy.

Now I know that's wildly far from the truth.

A God like me needs a lot of the more luxurious things in order to survive and be healthy. Some people can survive with more, can live with being what's considered to be 'mediocre', and be ok. But those of us who are Gods? With those kinds of odds?

We don't stand a chance.

People might find it melodramatic, but it's not like we have a choice.

This comes with the job we get in.

But, more importantly, to those who want to call us entitled, privileged, etc?

We look out for you.

We look after you.

Because that's our job. And in order to be able to do that, we need those things you dismiss as luxuries in order to live healthily.

So don't even think about trying to prevent us from getting those things. You will burn.

Right now, on what I've got?

I'm lucky to be alive.

I'm barely hanging onto my existence in this mortal body.

Those basic necessities for us Gods that you consider 'luxuries', are things I cannot afford - so I eat junk, and drink filth, because that's all I can afford to do.

This God could die because of the petty thoughts of someone like you.

And somehow, this blog became a rant about my current living situation.

But I know these things will change.

They will. You've already started.

Robin smiles, handing me a glass of the strawberry and pine lemonade I made the other day. When I taste it, I realise there's one more thing in it that I did not put there myself.

Did you flavour this with something else?

He nods.

Guess!

It's crisp, yet flowery...

You put elderflower in this!

He grins.

Yup. It's the Gods' tree! Of course I would!

We both laugh, raising our glasses high in the air, and as we do, I realise that many, many more of my family members are also here, doing that too.

To my good friend, descendant, cousin, and Head God, Litavis Dethmonias! The God Of All, God Of None! King Of Brittany!

And now dubbed the King Of Celtos!

Yec'hed mat!