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7/14/2025, 4:37:08 PM
You are now Insar'Sholo. The grasses you have been tending to for years grow in orderly rows and patches, the chaotic wind bobs them as the sound issues from the microchannels along their sheathe.
~shoo shh shoooo shooo schooo hoo~
For now, it is nothing but noise, the almost silent windchimes. But soon, it will be your masterpiece. You hear the sound of far away droning, and glance up, to see the nuptial flight of the warriors; the caste in your society that makes war.
“Oh... that is not good. Bad, bad day. Rotten bad day.” To see them in the sky can only mean one thing. The Wisdom Trees communicate with each other; a society across the stars. It is slower then the Starsight that you loan from the worms; the Star Lanes purchased with the sacrificed, specially-grown Aristocrat babies filled with wonder. But the trees have their own method, across space, where they can feel what the others feel. You water their roots with the celestial wine; and they know what the others know. You do not question it.
But the flight of the warriors can only mean you are under attack; and so soon after the Esaal had their turn? Aristocrats have no interest in a war; even though you are the pinnacle of your society. You want nothing to do with it!
Your society is divded into three estates. The third estate, the worker-drones, who do nothing but work and tend the wisdom trees and gather the materials and do all the make-doings. Endlessly and thanklessly, their only purpose is to work. As filled with light as the rest of your kinds; but only knowing work. The second estate are the warriors, the ones who fight when your people are attacked, only sometimes to be roused from their slumber among the roots deep under the Wisdom Trees; the cicadal awakening. Their only purpose is to fight; and in months, all of these warriors will be dead, win or lose, as their only purpose is to fight. And then, finally, there is the first estate; the Aristocrats, whose purpose is to live and experience all life has to offer. That is your purpose, and one you wear with pride.
As you like to put it? Those who work, those who fight, and those who play.
~shoo shh shoooo shooo schooo hoo~
For now, it is nothing but noise, the almost silent windchimes. But soon, it will be your masterpiece. You hear the sound of far away droning, and glance up, to see the nuptial flight of the warriors; the caste in your society that makes war.
“Oh... that is not good. Bad, bad day. Rotten bad day.” To see them in the sky can only mean one thing. The Wisdom Trees communicate with each other; a society across the stars. It is slower then the Starsight that you loan from the worms; the Star Lanes purchased with the sacrificed, specially-grown Aristocrat babies filled with wonder. But the trees have their own method, across space, where they can feel what the others feel. You water their roots with the celestial wine; and they know what the others know. You do not question it.
But the flight of the warriors can only mean you are under attack; and so soon after the Esaal had their turn? Aristocrats have no interest in a war; even though you are the pinnacle of your society. You want nothing to do with it!
Your society is divded into three estates. The third estate, the worker-drones, who do nothing but work and tend the wisdom trees and gather the materials and do all the make-doings. Endlessly and thanklessly, their only purpose is to work. As filled with light as the rest of your kinds; but only knowing work. The second estate are the warriors, the ones who fight when your people are attacked, only sometimes to be roused from their slumber among the roots deep under the Wisdom Trees; the cicadal awakening. Their only purpose is to fight; and in months, all of these warriors will be dead, win or lose, as their only purpose is to fight. And then, finally, there is the first estate; the Aristocrats, whose purpose is to live and experience all life has to offer. That is your purpose, and one you wear with pride.
As you like to put it? Those who work, those who fight, and those who play.
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