aceaspades on Nostr: From 2024-02-23 - Scribes "You may speak of peace, while I may speak of toil. You ...

From 2024-02-23 - Scribes https://publish.obsidian.md/gondolla/Journals+and+Thoughts/2024/2024-02-23+-+Scribes

"You may speak of peace, while I may speak of toil. You know joy, I know pain. Our worlds are vastly different; there is no way for you to know the suffering I have experienced.

"You travel through our villages, throwing coins and smiles at us, thinking we return your joys. But, you do not know what my people have lost because of your leaders.

"Unto us has been the committed the greatest of sins upon life. Our race, our religion, our ideologies, our families, we all have been broken, our ideals called worthless and outlawed from us. When anything we choose to do in our lands, that were of our own for time before your ancient records have done, we are watched, condemned, imprisoned or stolen from, all with the blessing of your rules. Every border we share with your many nations are watched, hunted, our people captured, slain, and those lucky few who are chosen to leave our home will walk a line between prejudice and avarice, which none can walk with dignity.

"You and your friends may be joyful, young spirits, in zenith of your youth, enjoying pleasures in every corner of the world, and that is a beautiful thing, but your joys fall like the sun's beating rays on bitter and lifeless soil, trampled long ago to death by your fathers and kin. The soul of my people is ruined, and now we need our peace to recover."

Aéia looked round, chills in their spine, the color from the once-bright world depleted and drab, the joy they once felt turned to ash on their tongue. To the left, and to the right, their group has grown silent.

"We did not mean to offend," said Héio, with a broken voice.

"But offend you have," responded Guéija, "though I know it was not your intention."

A long silence was broken by Aéia. "Do you think us in danger, here?"

Guéija suddenly screamed with laughter, broken teeth throwing moist droplets of spittle onto the faces of the unlucky ones standing directly in front of him.

"You are a funny child! There is no danger for you here. If we were to harm you, our village would be burned before tomorrow's sun rises. Our elders would be hung from their feet by our shrines, and your parents would gain rights to our lands for twenty generations.

"You are safe because your people are terrifying. We are broken by your people's power.

"Your days are your own while on our lands... but you are not welcome here."