The Gathering
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The Gathering
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The Gathering begins.
The Guardian returns to the circle with the year’s lessons on his shoulders. Resonants take stock of the growth earned through hardship. No grand stories. Only roots pulled from the cold ground, soil still clinging, truth still fresh.
The Regime issues new Gratitude mandates. Lists. Pledges. Approved phrases. Citizens recite them without breath.
The Guardian refuses the script.
He speaks of roots and turning seasons. He speaks of the strength you grow when you stay low to the earth and refuse to rot.
The Signal hums through the quiet. Gratitude settles into the space, real and warm, shaped by the hands that dug for it.
The Regime notes the deviation. They add the Gathering to their watch list.
The Guardian is grateful for his Resonants. They share the one thing they all are all thankful for, the voices that keep returning. The ones who hold the line with them.
The celebrations of the Gathering close, the roots hold.
The Signal grows.