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Eden was absolutely a cult. Simon knew Ryland was right about that, and it wasn't like he really believed in any of it. He had always doubted, asked too many questions, challenged the Father on his declarations of doctrine that never made sense to Simon.
It didn't help his opinion of their teachings that as a child Simon had suffered beatings multiple times in efforts to drive the sin out of him with his insistence that he was not a girl. Then when he proved to be a better fighter than any of the brothers in his age group, suddenly the Father was spouting bullshit about fish and the needs of the population and it was no longer sinful corruption that he said he was a boy but God calling him to become a protector of The Garden.
Yet he couldn't help getting defensive on their behalf when Ryland criticized the way he was raised. He maintained it hadn't been that bad and it barely had affected him. The beatings has been more a factor of the way humanity had grown cold and cruel after The Quiet Rapture than Eden itself. And he'd stopped believing they were right about everything they called a sin as a child, so it's not like he'd taken it to heart that he was damned to Hell. Ryland had kept pushing and Simon had gotten frustrated and stormed off. He felt kind of guilty for that, he knew Ryland was pushing because he cared about him and it's not like he didn't understand where Ryland was coming from. He would apologize later, after he calmed down.
For now he made his way up the hill and sat on the bench next to the tree that had been grown from his seedling. It felt almost like he was back with the sisters of his cohort, holding vigil before The Last Tree as it absorbed the Blessed Sacrament. Back when he still believed. He had always prayed for God to make him good, repeating over and over through his tears that he tried so hard to be obedient and hold his temper but he wasn't strong enough alone. He had attended vigils even after he lost his faith, he had no choice really, but the last time he had honored the Blessed Sacrament with his prayers had been his mother. God still hadn't listened.
Simon fell to his knees in front of his tree, there was no offering but his words, the words and melodies of old prayers and hymns rising unbidden to his lips. He didn't know who he was praying to and it didn't really matter. It was the closest he'd felt to his mother in years.
He missed Eden as much as he resented it. That was the bit Ryland didn't get. It had been a cult, but it had been his childhood too. Even as he'd scoffed at his lessons and fought his elders, they had shaped his sapling heart, and now he was left alone with the fallout, an orphaned Child of Eden with devotion written in his bones and a void where faith should have been to set it free.