The Tangle you cannot swallow a life

no, synin responds to her inquiry. i gave it willingly so that i might taste some of the knowledge he possesses. for you see, odin gave his own eye for knowledge; that is why the call him allfather — he is all seeing, all knowing. king among the æsir. sometimes our gods do ask things of us. they are not always kind. he admits with a lofty shrug of his shoulders, wincing as magna's talons dig into his flesh at her displeasure at nearly being unseated from her perch upon said shoulder(s).

though synin loved his gods he was not so blinded by it that he could not see that they could cruelly take away just as generously as they could give.

njǫror, chief of the vanir is the god of the wind and sea, synin offers. perhaps you were just praying to the wrong god, or no gods at all. he has no idea what sort of culture raised her, after all and he does not mean to sound as condescending as he perhaps does. he meant it light-heartedly; almost but not quite a joke. he might not call the sea home but that did not mean he wanted to invoke the wrath of the vanir cheiftan all the same; and besides, everyone could hold to their own beliefs.