It is yet Spring, and I offer lessons I witness on daring to grow.

The world is vast, and its trials unrelenting. A single tree may grow tall, untethered, standing apart from the forest--but when the storm comes, it is the lone tree that breaks first. Those that endure are the ones that stand together, roots entwined, bracing against the wind as one.

It is an easy to retreat when hardship strikes. To say that the world is too weak, too stagnant, too poisoned to be worth your strength. But true strength is not in running from the fire; it is in enduring its heat, tempering oneself in its flames, and emerging from the ashes, renewed in the teachings of Beautiful Asheira.

A lost war is not the end of a people. A foreign presence does not erase who we are. And unity--true unit--is not merely a bond in times of victory, but a promise that does not waver when the weight of the world presses down. To stand together when it is hard, when pride screams to flee, when the easy path is to abandon and forsake--that is strength.

Duiran does not wither. Duiran does not crumble. We listen. We learn. Even poison can be medicine in the right hands. We have lost, and have gained the lesson of loss. We are occupied, and we learn the mind of the occupier. What is torn down can be rebuilt stronger than before. What is tested in fire grows stronger against lesser flames.

Those who remain will not be remembered for solitude, nor will we be remembered for fear or despair. We will be remembered for Taulrik the Guardian Haatun's wandering endurance. For the roots too deep to be burned away. For the kind of strength that does not falter, but carries the weight of generations in its rings and bark like ancient K'y'lee'nn, defiant in its remembrance of both joys and sorrows.

There are words for those who abandon the fight when it turns against them, but they are buried shallow and whole little significance after a time. However, there is another for those who hold the line, who refuse to let hardship splinter their bonds, who take the ashes of defeat and sow the seeds of something stronger.

Eternal.

Dia'ruis Eternal,

Varshatesh Kuzirnai
Listener to the Rhythm
Listener of the Deep
Chorus of Choruses
Kin of Nivios



Penned by my hand on Closday, the 2nd of Omeian, in the year 9 AC.