Diya and the Tower

A young girl sits in a glen. Her hair glows with ethereal cinders, and her skin like ash. She is small, especially compared to the Hunters that she was born into. But size matters little to the Vrenn.

In front of her is a figure who sits opposite her. He is covered in thick furs, and wears a mask of thick raw metal styled in the manner of the Hunters.

The two shared black bread and berry wine, as was the custom. It was here that the figure taught Diya the meaning of watchfulness. A methodology to ponder, and hone in the years to come:

"Build a tower, and make it impregnable."

The figure summons a flame in their hand and an edifice begins to grow.

"Make every stone so tightly sealed that no insect can squeeze through, no grain of sand can make it inside. Your tower must have no windows or doors. It must not accept passage by friend or foe. No weapon, no act of violence, and not one mote of love may penetrate its stony interior."

The girl stairs at the growing tower and the bricks sealed tight.

"Why should I do this?" spoke Diya.

"It will make you invincible. This is the way of Syr. Their skin is like iron, and so is their heart. They are inured to death, grief shall never find them, and neither shall weakness."

Diya pondered a moment, and came upon a realization, for she was wise beyond her years, and was an excellent student. “If an Ifari built a tower this way, they would quickly starve, no matter how strong they became.”

The figure gave a secret smile behind their mask of metal.

"Yes." they said. "And that is why I will teach you a better way."

"Once you have built your tower, you must deconstruct it, brick by brick, and stone by stone." The fiery tower in the strangers palm slowly disappeared before her.

"You must do it meticulously and carefully, so that while you leave no physical trace of it remaining."

The fire had now all but disappeared.

"Your tower is still built in your mind and your heart. You can enjoy the fresh air, and eat fine meals, and enjoy a good drink with your friends, but all the while your tower remains standing. You are both prisoner and warden.

"A tower ready to spring anew at a moment’s notice." and the little flame sprung anew as a torrent of flame."

"This is the hardest way, but the strongest."

Diya saw the wisdom in this, and took the fire in her hands.

“As you to your earlier remark,” the figure said, “The man who builds his tower but cannot take it apart again, that Ifari is at the pinnacle of their strength. But that Ifari will surely perish.”