Lord_Iggy said:
Don't count on it, I don't have many orders.
After my final story, I'll send my orders.
****
We have a strange culture. A barbaric culture, some would say. A warrior culture, say others. They are all right, in a way. The Lengels live only to fight, and that gives the illusion that is all we are. All we will ever be. And perhaps they are right. We are a barbaric, warrior culture. We live to fight, and fight to live. We even fight till we are dead. Any other death than death in battle is not a good death.
Perhaps their sweeping generalizations are right. That we are uncivilized.
Barbaric.
Yet, they do not understand. They will never understand. Until they can say they've struggled against hunger by training their archery every day just to eat, they have no business judging us. Until they can show that they can traverse the diffucult terrain of our homeland, they cannot say we are barbaric.
Away from all civilization, it is a struggle. A struggle we have won for centuries. Yet these countries to the south judge us, call us barbaric while they live in good weather, tilling the land for food instead of fighting for it. An easy life, compared to our own.
And perhaps I hate them for it. Wish for them to live as we do, to struggle as we struggle. Perhaps I am jealous of them for their wealth, and wish to take it for myself. Perhaps I am all of these, or none at all. I cannot tell. I only know life through struggle, and would not even begin to understand their life, just as they do not understand ours.
My father tells me that we fear what we don't understand. And he is right. They fear us. They fear our armies and our might, our massive horde. They are right to fear our power, crushing all that stands in our path. No matter if there are mountains or armies, and sometimes both.
Yet, I fear them as well. I fear their machines of war, their inventions and new metals. I fear for my lands and cattle, for my homeland against their expansion. I even fear for my culture. They wish to civilize us, make us similar to them. Abandon our ways, to take up theirs. To become...'civilized'.
I would fight them, only for this. My life is hard, yes, but it is my life. It is the only life I have ever known, and the only life I have ever loved. The feel of the wind in my hair, the smell of the steppe in the morning dew, the Blue Sky above me, watching me.
They will never understand.
They will never understand the culture of my people, the struggle that we fight.
They will never understand our honor. Our ways.
They will never understand our fear, or our power.
They will never understand.
For I am Lengel, and I am barbaric, uncivilized. I am the wind beneath the stars, the beloved of the Sky. This is our culture, and I will make them understand.