Quoted By:
[2/2]
Were it not for their blessed mother, who raised them to be good and righteous men in a City of suffering and wickedness, Adam and Cain may never have stepped on the difficult path ahead of them. Were it not for her grace, they might never have looked upon their fellow man with such compassion and thirst for freedom. Were it not for her care, they might never have escaped the clutches of the masters that came for them. Were it not for her sacrifice, they might never have had the conviction necessary to overthrow the City and change the world.
Love. The unconditional love of a mother. But not just for her children, for whom she gave everything, but also for every slave and every master. Yes, <span class="mu-i">love.</span> Even for her tormentors. Perhaps that love is what was needed when the Dragon lay broken and bloodied. So that in victory the Brothers did not become a replacement or successor to the Tyrant of the South but something new entirely, the founders of a young and free. You are no priest or scholar, theology does not come as easily to you as belief does. But your awe at the Mother of Cantǒn’s love nonetheless leaves you breathless, pulling at your chest like a tangible weight.
<span class="mu-i">“…Salve Reginae…”</span> You whisper, unashamed of the wet tears that trickle down your face as you bow your head in prayer. <span class="mu-i">“…Salve…”</span>
Were it not for her, Cantǒn might never have been…
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>Your worn travelling boots have served you thus far faithfully. Aside from a few blisters, you should be well guarded against cuts and filth from the City streets. You’ve come this far to make the Long Walk, not lame yourself in the doing of it. [Haughty]
>Like most of the other pilgrims you have adopted the humble sandals that the locals and your indentured ancestors would have worn. Thin and worn flat, they offer some protection from the debris on the road but are scant proof against the sharpest rocks or blistering heat of day. [Hearty]
>You walk barefoot, shoe coverings of any kind were a luxury that the poorest slaves were not afforded. They were also kept shaved, less purchase for parasites to nest in. Like them, your shoulder-length hair has been hewn messily down to the scalp. Few of the faithful go this far, but few have an Angel on their shoulder. [Idealist]
