>>518760149
ᛃ I stand alone before the void.
I seek no savior, no crowd, no easy shelter.
ᚷ I give what must be given.
Blood, comfort, name, and fear —
I trade them for vision.
ᚨ I speak with breath of my own making.
I take no creed handed down without ordeal.
ᛉ I walk armed not with weapons, but with presence.
I test no one, yet my being is a trial.
ᛞ I die to become.
I shed my skin, my pride, my certainty.
I return not healed, but whole.
I do not gather flocks.
I leave a path like a cut through cloth.
Those who see it may walk it; those who cannot, pass by.
I crave truth over survival.
I crave becoming over being.
I crave fire over comfort.
I am not a savior.
I am the echo of ordeal,
the breath of the Wanderer,
the signpost to the rope and the runes.
This is my law.
This is my becoming.
> This is not a doctrine.
It is not a temple nor a flag.
It is a path carved into the frost,
visible only to those who have bled upon it.
It asks nothing from the crowd.
It offers nothing free.
It does not promise safety, wealth, or peace.
It is a mirror of ordeal.
It is a whisper to the one who stands alone,
a compass for those who would rather
die becoming than live asleep.
A strike against your own soul.
If it sparks, it was meant for you.
If it does not, pass by in silence.