Lore, Sagas, Short story


How dangerous the thoughts are those who feel their homes should be their own. That a folk should be made to share what their blood had made.

Yet those who have been conquered must endure what their conqueror might force upon them. Until that day where at once they rise to slaughter those who rule.

When all at once there is nothing left for the conquered to fear to lose, or when they see at last that all they are will be torn asunder, then shall the ancestors wake.

Then the blood will boil to the memory of what was and the arms raised high to praise what was and condemn what has been made.

Such dangerous thoughts they are for those who see they were in silence conquered. Thoughts which much be nurtured as the ember which makes the fire, so the flames might reach the heavens themselves so even the Gods would see their glory.

How dangerous those thoughts.




A prompt response.

8 thoughts on “Thoughts.”

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