Achaean News
Gratitude
Written by: Emissary Stheno
Date: Sunday, May 22nd, 2022
Addressed to: Gaia, Goddess of Nature
Old Mother,
When You imposed on the good people of Jaru, You came to ask for my gratitude.
Gratitude? As You dwell among Your mortals, You begin to sound like them. They carve their names in You. While Your children put quill to skinned paper to profess their love for Nature, in private they are more candid. They only want to kill. To be the predator and not the prey.
Eradication. Extinction. From their own deep resentment stems a lack of care and compassion for a world that has evolved beyond You.
For centuries, Eleusis was incapable of that kind of unity. They lived in the Village, away from the ravages of their fellow man, but they were still men. They styled themselves as beasts, howling for all to hear, but they were still men. They lost a war and every battle in between, and declared themselves victorious as they lied in plain sight, as they were still men. Now that their numbers swell, reason given way to the same mindless howling, they can finally exact their petty vengeance on a world that forgot them.
And are You not the pettiest of them? Have You not whispered in my ear about how easily they bend to Your will? Laughed about destroying the man Your Epopt was? Grinned that Your Roualt has nowhere else to go? Do You not enjoy how quickly we rot, aggrieved by the deaths of Your Brother and Sister?
Gratitude, then. I am grateful for the time I spent in the woods. Men had burnt down my childhood and the small place I called home. I too retreated from the greater world. I found solace in the green canopy, the unsheltered night, the blackened fir after fire. And when I returned to visit peacefully in my later life, I found the same embittered men skulking through the wood, staking their verdant banners in the earth to call it theirs. My tent torn down, my flowers trampled.
That is the beast that natural man is.
What is the Owl without her wisdom? The Eagle without his pride? When Brother Wolf first came to warm himself by the Fire, he regarded Man and saw, if not a kindred spirit, then one with whom coexistence was not just possible, but beneficial.
Behold the majesty of Nature. We have poisoned Her yet again.
I remain,
Stheno
Good Witch
Penned by my hand on the 3rd of Lupar, in the year 888 AF.
Gratitude
Written by: Emissary Stheno
Date: Sunday, May 22nd, 2022
Addressed to: Gaia, Goddess of Nature
Old Mother,
When You imposed on the good people of Jaru, You came to ask for my gratitude.
Gratitude? As You dwell among Your mortals, You begin to sound like them. They carve their names in You. While Your children put quill to skinned paper to profess their love for Nature, in private they are more candid. They only want to kill. To be the predator and not the prey.
Eradication. Extinction. From their own deep resentment stems a lack of care and compassion for a world that has evolved beyond You.
For centuries, Eleusis was incapable of that kind of unity. They lived in the Village, away from the ravages of their fellow man, but they were still men. They styled themselves as beasts, howling for all to hear, but they were still men. They lost a war and every battle in between, and declared themselves victorious as they lied in plain sight, as they were still men. Now that their numbers swell, reason given way to the same mindless howling, they can finally exact their petty vengeance on a world that forgot them.
And are You not the pettiest of them? Have You not whispered in my ear about how easily they bend to Your will? Laughed about destroying the man Your Epopt was? Grinned that Your Roualt has nowhere else to go? Do You not enjoy how quickly we rot, aggrieved by the deaths of Your Brother and Sister?
Gratitude, then. I am grateful for the time I spent in the woods. Men had burnt down my childhood and the small place I called home. I too retreated from the greater world. I found solace in the green canopy, the unsheltered night, the blackened fir after fire. And when I returned to visit peacefully in my later life, I found the same embittered men skulking through the wood, staking their verdant banners in the earth to call it theirs. My tent torn down, my flowers trampled.
That is the beast that natural man is.
What is the Owl without her wisdom? The Eagle without his pride? When Brother Wolf first came to warm himself by the Fire, he regarded Man and saw, if not a kindred spirit, then one with whom coexistence was not just possible, but beneficial.
Behold the majesty of Nature. We have poisoned Her yet again.
I remain,
Stheno
Good Witch
Penned by my hand on the 3rd of Lupar, in the year 888 AF.