Blackwater Islands Stabbed to death outside of San Juan

As a child, Whip grew up without faith. He did not try to explore the metaphysical or the divine -- for if he had, he would have more than likely vehemently opposed the idea of any sort of god in the first place. He still struggled with it now at times. How could any benevolent god allow him to suffer the way he had. What kind and loving god would strip his family away. And finally, what god would make him the way he was: manic, anxious, always teetering on the edge of another ill-timed breakdown.

However, the answer the Neriedes offered was simple. The gods were not benevolent -- at least not to his kind. Oddly enough, this made it easier to believe in the presence of higher powers. On the other hand, it didn't really foster much trust from Whip. He briefly thought of Atlas, the consort whom Akantha had told him about, and how he had been swept off to sea despite his service. Mother Sea was to be feared above all else.

"I have faith in the Mothers," Whip answered. Trust? No. Somehow, he thought if he spoke the words, he would someday believe them (just as most of his conditioning had). But even then, Whip didn't know if the Mother's truly represented him. The Drowned God seemed more appealing one like Whip, though he knew not to talk about the lesser diety among the company of the sirens.