"Have you ever heard where women dominate men and govern a domain?" as the heckles are rampant, taking me to shut my mouth.

"Look over there! Beyond the seas, you can find them hiding…" I conclude, despite all of the boos and the violent reactions I have suffered.

I am clearly vexed when I thought in optimism that this town - this castle town would welcome me and communicate with me in a warm greeting. The townsfolk are certainly not amused by my preaching. In a vivid outlook, I am not present anymore along the coastline from north of Inglovia. I talk to one of the less harrying strangers out on the streets. I ask the location of this place. 'Eisschrein' is what one's say. The town is a pilgrimage, a couple weeks prior, I intended to venture out south deliberately but I would never have thought myself ending up in this distinguished place. They have the 'Lightheim' which served as an abandoned lighthouse in the past to secure the security passage from the lakes that engulfs 'Eisschrein'. Three of the sides are the lake fringes which are the north, the west, and the south - surrounded by the lakes. The lakes serve as a natural defense of the town. It is pretty ironic, Eisschrein champions the entitlement of a cosmopolitan pluralist domain which I was expecting to at least receive a warm sensation. It turns out to be this cold.

They are throwing tomatoes at me when I am about to speak and hopefully, to enlighten them. They treat me as an astringent individual to their society where I don't even have visited this place yet. Despite the hostility that I went through, this town is such a bad place afterall. Although I have received criticism and feedback from the people I have converted and I yet to proselytize, Eisschrein marvels not only the 'Lightheim' but also a myriad of people of different ethnic, faiths, and races. The caste system plays a role in this city, said by a bunch of clerics, pilgrims, and merchants alike. Hirililal has not yet been established in this sacrosanct dwelling. What a shame! The faith is fairly young and it favors the empowerment of women which most of the cultures and the societies are frowned upon, afterall.

I reach the most visited spot according to the locals with, whereby, the help of a guide. I tip the guy an ample amount for a price of at least two in-between meals, a lunch, and a dinner. It is enough, I suppose but before he leaves, he gives a map for no charge. Which makes me wonder, how are all people of the lower class so compassionate and charitable? We part ways as I head to the monastery. I pass an oratory before treading towards my rendezvous. Rev. Amas told me that this place is a dwelling zone for all faiths. No apartheid. No discrimination against origins, colors, classes, and . All seems prevalent against this type of hatred. But the dissent starts towards anathema and heretics. Unrecognized and paganism have no place in this 'Holy Sight'.

I bow my head as I am about to approach the toll, saying: "Salutations, good fellow. I have come to visit your wonderous temple." towards the lector from the otherside who is probably practicing the articulation of the reading.

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"Oh, welcome to Eisschrein. Brother, we welcome your presence wholeheartedly! Please, we have mass today and it is about to begin in a couple of minutes." as the ostarius (the gatekeeper or the doorman) accedes to gain access inside, the lector greets me in high salute.

The vibes of the vestrians (also known as the sacristans) and the chorus (whose duty it is to sing hymns) emanate a bright and pleasant sensation. The hype resonates with me in a peculiar tinge of redemption since I was doctrinated by Rev. Amas in my earlier life. As I get within the walls behind the divider, the fervor instills of my previous engagement. By heart, I am a fervent Hirililali and a staunch seat of the inner circle inside the council of Lad Anda. However, I can't change the fact nor deny my existence of being a former 'Croisian'. Upon my arrival inside the monastery, I tread to the chamber of probably that whom I know. It may sound scandalous but I need it vouch for my presence to feel. I reach at the doorsteps of an office. The chamber indicates no identification of a significance. I knock on the door. A gentle one-two-three (1, 2, and 3). Three consecutive clouts. I twist the knob whereby I await for the behest to come.

"Come in!" my cue, as I heed to the instructions, a call behind this door.

I enter in a slow fashion, as I greet: "... good morning." where in an instant as I get myself in after the cue has given.

"Oh, welcome! A candid guest whom he had thought visiting Eisschrein is a virtue! Come on, take a seat" the priest in charge emphasizes in a rejoicing tune, as I go forward to comply with his offered gesture.

"O thank you! I am utmost delighted to receive your warmth, Father." as I smile, I take a seat, offering him back a gesture by a sign of a handshake.

Soon, I follow it with a statement of: "By any chances, Rev. Father. Does the name 'Amas' hits the nail on the wood?" confirming if he is really the son of my former - the illegitimate child of my late foster father.

"Brother? Is that you? Oh my god! Praises to the heavens!" in a shaky voice, he looks at me with a baffled face, as he never believes it at first, and he does bother to walk around the desk to give me a tight hug.

"I never do have familiarized your face until then, brother. I am pleased that you're still healthy." as a tad beat is thudding on my back.

"Neither do I, little brother. So I should say Reverend Oscärs (Os-kers)." I respond back, returning the small gesture by holding his nape.

The adopted one and the bastard boy have finally reunited. I do guess this fate has woven a string in order to meet us in rather a surprising fashion. He's flabbergasted as I am. He states that his father, Rev. Amas has always sent the letters to him when they are apart from each other. And up until the influx had stopped, as he ensued that the reverend was dead. After the warm interactions between us, the priest of his domain gives me a warning: "... beware out there. Inquisition heightens up. I don't know whether I can save you or not, brother. The 'Croisian' faith at large have been scoured and by the reports amongst whom I know were either tortured to death or died shamefully in the open for the public to see." as his brother, I should heed his bidding for both of us. We don't know what the next moves of the Grand Emperor's concocting are. I am glad to traverse in this place and only to find out, I do still have a family in Inglovia. Thank you, Lady Wellicia!