Akio Diachi
For it was All but a Dream
KRO VAR
"As the River Flows, so do our lives," Akio wrote on the parchment before him. It was rather outdated to write anything at all, but to write in an old tome leather-bound with pages made of aged filmsi, well that was archaic in this world of technology. But Akio, it could be argued, was an archaic guy. There was just something to be said about the sincerity and perminance of parchment and ink, "Does the river control where it goes? Truly, does it? It is at the mercy of the land around it. But through this admitted reliance the River is able to shape valleys, carve away mountains, and craft canyons. We may believe we are better than the river, that we control our destinies, our fates, that we craft the worlds without impunity.
"But nothing could be farther from the truth. Do we decide who we meet? Who sits beside us on the bus or in the library or who stands beside us in line? Do we choose who walks beside us? No, never. We must admit that there are so many things beyond our control. We release the illusion that we decide our own destiny. Destiny is exactly what we cannot control.
"Only when we accept our destiny can we accept our freedom--the things we can control. These are who we talk to, how we talk to them, what we say to them, and why. This is how we shape mountains, tear through canyons, and craft valleys; by accepting what is outside of our control and what is within it."
With a satisfied sigh, the Chiss closed his book of wisdom and rose, standing on the small rock in the middle of the waters around him. He had someone to meet here in the gardens, one they called Atheus. Would he be a friend? an enemy? An ally? Too soon to tell, but he would be grateful for whatever he had the delight to experience.
"Just as the Rivers," the Pilgrim mused to himself, hopping from stone to stone towards the land.
[member="Atheus"]