<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/uOY2b0l.jpg)<br/></div><div align="center"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;">Mother Freya</span></div><br/>There was a much larger gathering outside the church house than usual that morning, many of whom were not her usual followers. It had been a full day since the morning Broken Sky's body was discovered, the culprits proclaiming their victory of the Slum's fallen protector. In the time since then Mother Freya had seemed to vanish, none but her closest followers knew of her comings and goings within the past 24 hours.<br/><br/>Suddenly the doors opened, and the holy woman emerged from the tiny chapel. She did not step out empty handed, however, for in her hand she held Broken Sky's glaive. Well, she held what had<em>been</em>Broken Sky's glaive at least, however it now looks slightly different. The skilled blacksmiths she had recently recruited to her cause had worked tirelessly over night to modify it, refastening the blade upon the staff so it now resembled a scythe rather than a traditional weapon.<br/><br/>There was a collective gasp at the sight, the kindly mother of the Healing Church in possession of the vigilante's legendary blade, the absence of which had sealed the man's fate, "fear not my children, though I come baring a grisly instrument, my songs will be forever gentle" she spoke calmly, soothingly, "We have all heard the fate of Broken Sky, a man who has spent years fighting for the poor and downtrodden, only to meet a most ignoble end" she said, stepping forward into the crowd, enough of her followers present that she didn't fear for her safety.<br/><br/>"In truth I met with him that very night, discovered him in a moment of weakness, standing amongst the carnage of his most recent slice of vengeance. By Aros's mercy I spoke softly to him, used the Lord's light to heal his wounds, and attempted to send him on his way home. And yes, I took his blade with me, though not to strip him of power, but to give him a chance to reflect on himself, to ask whether his violent ways were truly just. Though it pains me to see that whatever conclusion he may have come to, his past caught up to him before he could act on it..." she said, stopping to bow her head in a silent prayer.<br/><br/>"However make no mistake. Broken Sky did not die that night because he didn't have his weapon. He died because he<em>relied</em>on this blade alone to protect him. He saw himself a protector and savior for the Inner Sanctum, yet he chose to stay a stranger to each and every one of us. Though he watched over this community, he never actually took part in it, never supported it or helped it grow. He refused to enter the lives of others, nor allow others to enter his. He lived alone, worked alone, fought alone...and unfortunately...died alone..." she muttered, her voice managing to reach every ear in the area despite how softly she spoke, as if she were speaking directly into their ear, "And that was his true and most fatal flaw. Because it does not matter how strong you are, no one is unwavering. All of us will wane and falter from time to time. It is unavoidable, because that is the nature of all us mortals. Aros teaches us that when our own strength fails, it is not we who catch ourselves, but instead the hands of those around us. Our friends and neighbors, those who will happily lend us their strength in our time of need. For no matter how powerful a pair of arms become, they will never carry more weight than a group that lifts together. That is the philosophy that the Church has always believed in, and what Broken Sky could never understand"<br/><br/>Freya breathed a solemn sigh for their fallen hero, before reaching out a hand to the crowd, several people immediately reaching out to take it, before more and more reached in, "My good children, please, take your time to grieve. Shed your tears, say your prayers, and hold your loved ones close. But do not fear. For Broken Sky may be gone, but you are all still safe. Safer now than ever in fact. For we need not rely on a sole savior to protect us, not when we are united and strong, not when we work together and watch over one another. Because that unity, that bond we share as a community... that is true strength. Broken Sky was strong yes, but he was alone, and he could not survive a single night on the streets without this blade at his side. While I have walked these streets night and day in plain view of all who might wish to do me harm, and make no mistake there are plenty who do, with not a single weapon in hand, nor even a pair of shoes with which to run, and not a scratch has fallen upon me. This is not because I am strong, it is because WE are strong, because Aros unites us and MAKES us strong, stronger than any metal that can be forged and sharpened" she said, raising up the re-shaped glaive over her head, "Look upon this now and see not a weapon for taking lives, for it has been reshaped, repurposed, just as all of you have been reshaped. What once was a tool of war can now be used to reap crops, to harvest food and provide for all. Think too how you can be changed, those of you once considered vermin, beggars and criminals. You can all serve a greater purpose, none of you are bound by your original form and function. You need only let go of your prior perceptions and shape yourselves into something better..." she said, creating a new icon  for the church: the Bent-Glaive, the Sky's Scythe, a weapon turned tool, a symbol of recreation and change, of taking the parts of oneself that many would see as dangerous and instead using them for the greater good.