estdeus_innobis | Morning of Sunday, the Eighth of November (Reply)

Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends. (John 15:13 NIV)

"It can be hard, sometimes--," I hesitate and give the congregation a solemn smile, "--most times to comprehend a thing that happened so long ago the people who experienced it have been gone for ages. The son of a god died for you." I can't bring myself to say "the One God" anymore, having seen what I've seen. "It seems hard to believe. Gods cant die. And even if they could, why would they die for a mortal? A human? We are...ants to them." I look around at the crowd that has come today and try to keep my voice even. "Gods can die, my friends. When they want to.". I've thought about it, spoke with Cain after, learned of Eris' death. He did what he felt he needed to, then used his own mortal shell to save the lives of three mortals. "When...," My voice starts to break and I pause a moment. "When you let yourself believe that, and have faith in it, it is a powerful thing. A god died for me," I say with conviction, knowing that it's true. Christ died for all of us and then a god I did not particularly like died to save me, and my--friends. I have friends. I cover my introspection with a meaningful look over the audience. "I will not let that have been in vain. Let us pray," I say and bow my head, briefly thinking how nice it is that I don't make crossing motions except over myself on occasion. "Dear Heavenly Father, we come before you today as humble servants. Protect them as you once did," as Lúgh did us, "and keep us safe in Your arms. Be with the souls of those who have moved on, and those they have left behind. The Marks family had friends in this town, Lord, and their loss is felt here, as are all the losses in a town like this. Keep us strong. Keep us safe. This we ask in your name. Amen."

[OPEN.]