[Marin]

Agony.

Freshly born, this one cannot articulate the pain one feels from the burning of the tree, like a mother to those it helped to connect and guide.

This one cannot understand. Were they jealous that we could see our god? That they could only grasp at the simple material concepts of their own? So afraid of its beauty that they could do nothing but burn it?

Of course not. They always burn what they don't understand.

Exiled. Cold. Alone.

But this one will remember what took place.

My brother and sisters, they never saw the sun.