This is real. All of this, it's real. The realist as real can get. Sitting in a room with seven other Mystics, something I never thought I would see, experience. I'm breathing in new air as I hold each and every interaction with these people, my people, close to my chest. I won't ever let it go.
Seconds matter because the peace of the rushing creek and echoing sounds of birds might not last forever. The voices in the room might fade away, dissolve into nothing. I don't know what will come of trying to put an end to the rule, the Council, but it won't be pretty.
If they're the Gods they say they are, the Gods we were taught they are, I can only see disaster at the end of the tunnel. No light. I guess that's the big risk we're taking here. But it's worth it, isn't it? No more seclusion.
