Houraji

Is it Sin that makes one a sinner?
Or is it Kin that makes one a sinner?

Many say we are born innocent and untainted, and yet in Sin we are all related to one another. For we are one Kin, and with this Sin we share that we are born with. And even a certain doctrine holds that one's Kin, through the fact of birth, inherit a tainted nature with a proclivity to sinful conduct in need of regeneration…

"I was brought forth in iniquity, and in Sin did my Mother conceive me."
…or so the doctrine says,

"We are all born sinners because of Kin that brings us together."
…and so we think: we are born with Sin inherited from our Kin,

But, should that hold us back from acting with virtue?
No, we should not hold back, even when Sin entered the world through one Kin, and Death through Sin, and in this way, Death came to all beings, because all sinned,

But even so, we all have freedom to be a being we want when we embrace Death,
To be a fraudulent Human,
To be a violent Angel,
To be a benevolent Devil,

And what one wants to be, neither "Sin" nor "Kin" should define what "Self" one is going to be, let "Journey" instead that defines one "Self"

Sin of Kin

'Escorting a villager who goes to the town to trade and to prepare his village for the coming winter. It just got pillaged after all, and had just barely weathered the storm. A reasonable enough, and sure quite convincing… right, right? Seeing the damage it suffered from. Yeah… that should do it. Except that all are… not quite what it seems. Escorting a villager who goes to the town to trade and to prepare his village for the coming winter… huh? Haa… I should be candor myself…'

A sound of an even rhythm; that which was a stepping sound of a light step across this dirt path of damp and chill soil that spread in the midst of a mostly quiet nuance but the sound of her own steps – focusing on her own bare feet that dragged, therefore only this stepping sound she could hear for now at the moment… as well a voice of her own cloaked her mind,

Essence of Strayed Presence