The soft whisper of the wind through the bamboo carries not only the scent of the tall grasses, but oddly that of roses. A shadow passes quickly between the moon and you, catching the eye. Turning, you see the outlined figure of a man, as motionless as a statue. Although he does not move, you sense his acknowledgement.
"I am Majere, Lord of Monks. Greetings."
The sky above shudders for a moment, the stars changing their position to form his signature constellation - a rose. A fleeting smile crosses his face.
"Like a blooming flower... or the cry of a heron... or the wisp of a dream... all things hold within themselves great possibilities. It is what we do with that moment, that shows who we are. I, myself, am still awakening to that potential. More will come, in time. This I promise you."
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