MARGARETA'S SHRINES

[littyfam 473]

 

 

 

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VERILY, THE SON OF MAN HAS ALWAYS BEEN FILLED WITH VANITY. 

KNOW, THAT THIS DECEIT IS ONLY RESERVED TO IDOLIZERS.

 

YOU HAVE SINNED.

 

FOR THIS, OUR LORD GOD IS MERCIFUL, AND HE WILL FORGIVE YOU. 

AT THE SAME PLACE YOU CAUSED DESTRUCTION, THERE HIDES AN EMPTY PYRE OF OWYN, FORGOTTEN.

 

BURN IT YET MORE, AND WE SHALL SEE TO IT THAT THIS WAS MISGUIDED FAITH.

 

 

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Margareta did not fear death - what cause was there, when death was merely ascension by terms more grave? Indeed, she embraced it - she would be perfected in GOD’s Bosom, and made whole. 

 

Death was no more ascension, now - it was stasis. This much, she had been told: that man’s sin was so grievous and so unrepentant, that the Gates of the Skies had been closed; that the soul of folly could no longer be purified.

 

She had not thought sin so rife, for she was a woman of pride - of prideful nature and prideful action, both. She had burnt idols, and made sacrilege to what was once-holy. This was her grave sin: that she determined faith by her will alone, and enacted her will of faith as unilateral - that her faith was divided from the flock, and the people, and all the goodly souls that GOD had so carved. 

 

She was rebuked.

 

Her shrines were her repentance.

 

 

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THE HEARTLANDERS

 

The pyre was candle, only, and it was found and lit by Margareta, and her alone, for this was her land-home, and this shrine was truly hers to bind to. 

 

It was later expanded - an action not of hers, for she did not know metal-smithing, nor had the gold to expend on such a costly thing. She was glad for it.

 

The Pyre of Owyn

 

 

 

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THE REINMAREN

 

Her second shrine was one unplanned. She had made visitation to Reinmar, and therein found and gathered some folk - an ag-ed Holy Dame, an Owynist-yet-to-be, a Reinmaren Sergeant, and a pittance of local militiamen.

 

It was set in the lake in the upper-city, and dedicated to Saint-King Caius.

 

The Lake Shrine of Saint-King Caius

 

 

 

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THE ADUNIANS

 

The third, came upon a visit to the White-City of the Adunians. Thereupon, found she some man made pitiful and lonely, and bade his following, and sent him unto a girl-alike. She would not know their conclusion - of happiness or discontent either, and she was contented in it.

 

There, where she had met that sorrowful boy-child, she erected her shrine. It was by the aid of a becrowned woman that it was made, and, by her will, dedicated to Saint-King Caius. 

 

The Sorrowful Shrine of Saint-King Caius

 

 

 

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THE BALIANITES

 

A fourth was founded in Balian, where she found much merriment. A knight and her babe made aid in its construction, clearing that tavern-corner where it would be made.

 

It was dedicated to Saint Tobias of Sarkoz, on suggestion from the tavernkeep there.

 

The Tavern Shrine of Saint Tobias

 

 

 

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THE HYSPIANS

 

A fifth came to be in Hyspia. Some great travel with her wood-cart had brought her to the city, for she had been waylaid on her path to the Petrine, following her meeting with some pious and goodly nomad-folk.

 

Therein, she traveled about the city with an elf, who so agreed - in hesitation - to make aid in the shrine’s construction. Another man, of warrior-bearing and indeterminate homeland, made aid in its making.

 

Neither knew of the canonized, or the beatified, or the venerated - but they chose among some few letters the initial of a saint, and it was hence dedicated to Saint Richard of Aldersburg.

 

The Tree Shrine of Saint Richard

 

 

 

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THE HIGHLANDERS

 

A final was founded in the new-built city of the Haeseni, where an elf of reddened skin joined her about the city. They would find a boy, of distant heritage but local growing, who would help in its locating and construction.

 

There, between their church and barracks, a military-shrine was made, and dedicated initially to Blessed Francisco Altamarino. It would later be rededicated, in times unknown to her, to Saint Otto of Vanderfell.

 

The Barrack Shrine of Saint Otto & Blessed Francisco

 

 

 

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HER FORGOTTEN PYRES WERE THUS BURNT.

[TreeSmoothie 5057]

A Balianese man, too poor of vision to have read the headline correct, let out a woeful sigh. "Ai, I could go for a margarita or two. Amirite?"  hummed John, nudging his beau with an elbow. @teeylin