That’s what it took.
What she needed to control the thing that threatened to take over her body.
The monks didn’t seem to expect it to be their God that she put her faith in. Just told her once again that if she wanted to put chains around the thing within she needed it.
Needed to meditate on her beliefs; pray to her God. Somehow make a deal with the divine so they would lend the light with which she could fight the darkness within.
How was she meant to pray when she’d seen so many empty beliefs, taken part in them?
When she’d fought throughout countless short bitter lives for the hope of something better, of being welcomed by a God that would love her for what she’d done and protect her like she’d protected others on Earth.
She’d never been allowed to stay in that safe place between worlds, always crafted once again into a champion to die fighting for what was right.
What kind of reward was that?
She decided that if there was anything, anyone up there, it wasn’t someone that she owed anything to.
No chance of heaven. No chance of escape. All they had given her was battles and blood.
She needed something to believe in.
So she chose the only thing that had never let her down, never failed her through all her lives.
She chose Herself.