Master Anijen always said that those whose minds linger in the past are unprepared for what is to come. Master Kazzan disagreed. He said that the past is precious, fleeting; that time was cyclical as the Sun. Just as Ouroboros will devour his tale for all eternity, that which has occurred will recur, that which is born will always die, but be born again. The blood of our ancestors is more than dust.
It is written.
Forgive me, Anijen, but circumstances have forced my hand. Kazzan is right: the history of our culture must be preserved, and I find myself in the unfortunate circumstance of being the sole vessel of our endangered worship. For this reason, I have taken it upon myself to begin chronicling both my own journey and the teachings of our people. Through me, the Temple of the Sun was razed, but I will salvage what I can from the ashes. Through me, my Masters will be reborn.
And at the very least, perhaps this will help me improve my calligraphy.