You’ve studied religion, magick, psychology, all of it. You killed your belief in god long before you ever got sick. When you faced that darkness you knew you were the only one there and that you couldn’t answer your own prayer.”Me: “Wait a minute, You’re saying I’m mad at myself?”Friend: “Yes.”I felt the truth of his words and it was like he had run me through with a sword. I was speechless. It took me a couple of days to process what he had told me. He was in fact, correct. In my heart, I had killed God. Nobody is home or on the throne.It’s a liberating, yet lonely thought. All my life, I have been told of a loving Father which is an image I clung to as I never had one. The Christian faith is burned deep into my soul/mind and even though I have no “faith” I still find comfort in it’s familiarity. I’m also Heathen and find comfort in the sagas of my ancestors and the images of Freyja, sweet Sunna, and Hel. The Disir I adore. What’s interesting is faith or no faith I’m observant. She then leaves very much in a huff. Isabelle waits, then creeps from her hiding spot. Despite being in the room the entire time, she was at a loss at to whom the blonde's partner was - could it have been James?She waits a short while before crawling from under the table. Carefully creeping into the hallway, she makes her way back to James' chamber. She enters the room quietly and hears splashes coming from the bathing antechamber. James is alone. Isabelle clears her throat; he turns to face her."My lord, may I join you?"He ponders, sifting the water through his hands."I think perhaps we shall wait until later," he begins."Perhaps you are too tired from your previous encounter," Isabelle coolly."Excuse me?" I believe I spoke clearly enough. Are you too tired from your encounter with the blonde?" What I do is no business of yours. You are a simply a useful time occupier. Once your usefulness has ceased, I shall replace you as I see fit."Isabelle walks into the water, skirts and all,.
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