Chapter Text
Harald knew the Secret Story as well as any other Burmecian.
"Once, long, long ago, our people were not brave. Instead of being proud and strong, they were weak and miserable. They were slaves and food both to the most terrifying creatures imaginable, immense beasts with fangs that could crunch a body's worth of bone, claws that could kill in a single swipe, eyes that gleamed in the night like fire. We do not know their true name, for we have cast it into hell where it belongs.
"For untold generations, the Hunters kept us in fear, in misery. But one day, a young girl asked: "Why do we fear? Why do we tremble? Why do we accept our own weakness and live as chattel?" This was Vanadis, and at first, the people thought she was mad. But Vanadis was clever, and so she waited. She waited until she was an adult, until one day, the Hunters showed her something they should not have.
"Some foolish Hunters showed her the Great Dam, far above their valley, and said 'clean the wall here in a week and we will not eat you'. And instead of despairing at the impossible task, Vanadis used that time to formulate a plan. First, she studied the Dam carefully. Second, she stole a spear from their forge. And third, she warned her people of what was to come. Many did not believe her.
"At the end of the week, Vanadis climbed up to the top of the Dam, jumping with nimble feet from stone to stone. She infused her spear with aether and then leapt from the top, right onto the weakest stone of the Dam, the one she had spotted. And then she ran as the water began to seep through the stones, hurrying to make sure that those who listened to her would come out alive.
"And they did, clinging to little bits of wood and doors and all sorts of things, while those who did not listen drowned. And more importantly, so did the Hunters. And since that day, we have lived strong and free.
"We will always remember Vanadis and what happened, for it reminds us that we must choose to be brave, that it is easy to fall into fear and inaction. To be Burmecian is to live by the Story. But equally, to be Burmecian is to guard the Story with your life. No one but us must know the terrible truth of our weakness, of our shame. We must bear it alone."
Harald knew the Secret Story. He knew the Hunters were dead and long gone. But now, one was before him.
Sphene had not been to Burmecia for a very, very long time. Not since she was eight, and that was four hundred and sixteen years ago.
When Alexandria had (re)begun diplomacy with the rest of the Ninth, Treno had thankfully offered to be a go-between on the condition that Alexandria helped with improving and sustaining their barrier. Honestly, they had pretty much asked for blueprints to the improvements and that's it. She was reminded yet again that the people of Treno were as lovely as she had remembered.
So, Treno is where she had gotten to enjoy Burmecian diplomacy and even Burmecian Cinnamon Cake (the best cake ever, oh how she had missed it) for quite a few years. But now she was headed to Burmecia with an entire week of preventative porxie treatments for her levin sickness, way too many warding scales, and Lamaty'i.
It had been a rather quick train ride, all things considered, although she had to steel her heart when she realized she would be going two weeks in which she'd have to see lightning from morning to night. No Everkeep to hide in, no extremely calming electrope holograms of Urqopacha to distract her, just lightning, like it had been when she was a child. In the sky sucking the life from people still, as it had been when her kingdom burned.
Thank goodness for therapy (and, reluctant as she was to admit it, a PTSD diagnosis). Because after they had visited Treno that first time and she'd finally sent the Scions on their merry way, she'd then spent the next three days learning what "eating four full sized pizzas while binge watching reality TV" meant. Gossan had thankfully pulled her out of it, but it had been bad. Very bad. Turns out that when you're not running on adrenaline to deal with a murderous teen, those pesky feelings you've repressed about your own chronic illness and failures as a monarch decide they need to be known.
But now here they were, at the entrance to Burmecia proper. There was flooding on the rail all the way from the cargo depot to the station, so they'd had to walk. It was always raining in Burmecia, and despite the inconvenience she was thankful for it, because the clouds hid some of the lightning.
Lamaty'i did not like it. Sphene had told her it was always raining here, but Lamaty'i had simply said "oh, like the jungle" and then turned up with her normal clothes anyway. And now, the Xbr'aal was learning that rain in a hot, humid rainforest was very different than rain at the base of a temperate mountain range. Apparently, there were similar places in Xak Tural, but Lamaty'i still hadn't been to them. She had admitted it was because she didn't do well with being wet and cold, and that she had "I'm failing as a monarch" feelings (very relatable, honestly) about not having visited a large portion of her country almost six years into her reign. Well, Sphene supposed this was a bit of practice for it.
And she wouldn't say it, but Lamaty'i did look a tad adorable looking like a sad, wet cat.
They trudged towards the gate, knocked on it (someone from Treno had messaged the guards to look out for them), and waited. The little side door popped open, and they were ushered in.
Inside, the two gate guards introduced themselves. Harald and Margaret, they said, in unusually nervous voices for Burmecians. She chalked it up to meeting two monarchs at once, which was probably rather nerve-wracking for people who weren't heads of state. Also maybe because they didn't know how to offer Lamaty'i a towel. But regardless, introductions were put forth, a towel was asked for and provided, and once Lamaty'i was dry enough to not destroy the guardhouse floors but not dry enough that braving the rain again would be impossible, they walked through the guardhouse and up the way towards where an emissary of the King of Burmecia awaited.
Did she know? Did Queen Sphene know? But how could she? No Burmecian would break the sacred bonds of the Story, and there were no reports either from four hundred years ago or from the last four of a Burmecian being tricked or tortured into breaking them. Even when their relationship with Alexandria had been choppy due to hiring out mercenaries on both sides of the Storm Surge, Harald knew that the kingdom had never resorted to the depths of depravity Lindblum did. They weren't blameless, Alexandria, but it had been four hundred years and everyone was to blame for it, in the end.
Also, she'd smiled at the Hunter like it was—it was….cute. She'd even hidden a giggle with her hand. Said something about "learning to pack for rain in the future" in a teasing voice, like she wasn't utterly afraid of the horrid beast. Like she even…controlled it somehow.
This was not good. Very, very not good.
Even if it was…leashed, it couldn't be trusted. It would only be a matter of time before it disobeyed the queen and feasted on the flesh of Burmecians. Distantly, Harald realized that Queen Sphene had even said some sort of name for it, like a pet. Her Majesty was unaware of the terrible, terrible danger.
Harald picked up the phone and called Karl down the way, who was with the King's emissary as a guard. Warned him, then hung up, and called Sif over at the Palace, who would get the word out to everyone else, including the Dragoons. He hoped it would be enough.
And if not, he was a guard of Burmecia. And Burmecians lived by the Story.
As they drove up to the palace in a limo, Goring was panicking. Quietly, of course, because he was an emissary of the King. Wouldn't do to shame Burmecia, would it?
But both he, Karl, and everyone else had no idea what to do. He'd met Queen Sphene, of course. Several times, over in Treno, as they coordinated diplomacy. He'd known she was bringing the Vow of Resolve of Tuliyollal to visit with her, in the interests of connecting their three countries more closely.
He realized he had failed in his duty. For while he had read a bevy of documents about Tural and asked Her Majesty what the Vow was like as a person, he had never asked what she looked like.
Wait, no. He'd asked, once, hoping to see a photo. And for some reason, Her Majesty had flushed bright crimson and pulled up the collar of her hood, then mumbled, "She's very…tall and handsome". And not wanting to pry into what was obviously an embarrassing topic for her, he'd asked no more.
It didn't matter. He had still failed. And what's worse is that the young queen had been quite taken with the beast's demeanor. He wasn't sure if it was trickery on the part of the Hunter, or simple naivete on the part of Her Majesty. He knew of no records of other races being eaten by the Hunters, so he supposed they didn't prey on Hyune. But certainly, either she must have seen some bloodthirsty behavior from the beast and discounted it as harmless, or the monster had actively hidden her nature from Her Majesty.
He shuddered to think of the suffering of those in the Hunter's country. But perhaps this co-ruler of hers—Vow Koana—had put his efforts towards preventing widespread destruction. She had apparently won the crown in a contest of sorts, and maybe her adoptive brother (poor man, to be brother to that!), knowing how terrifying she was, had convinced her to let him do all the hard work of ruling. After all, the Hunters were lazy, according to all he knew.
As he emerged from his thoughts, Her Majesty was speaking.
".... again, we're very sorry about the water. La–Wuk Lamat didn't quite realize how cold and wet Burmecia would get."
"Yeah. I've been in cold mountains, but they've been cold and dry mountains. We'll have to work something out so I'm not dripping everywhere."
"I'm sure the Burmecians can adapt something, given that they also have fur. But I wouldn't want to be presumptuous, Lord Goring."
Ah. He had to respond. "Er, no, it's quite alright. It wouldn't do to have water getting everywhere, would it? I'll have the palace tailors give Your Majesties a call either today or tomorrow, whenever you wish." Oh, that was horrid. Far too casual. His duty was suffering yet again.
"Today, I think? What do you think, Wuk Lamat?"
The Hunter made a face he did not like, as though she'd heard something slightly distasteful. He wasn't certain of the cause, but he tapped Karl's foot with his own and Karl tapped back. He'd noticed and was ready to spring into action the moment the beast moved.
She was being stupid. She knew Sphene wasn't going to call her a nickname on a diplomatic mission while talking to other people. She never did, and usually Wuk Lamat didn't care.
But it really, really sucked to be wet and cold and she kinda wanted Sphene to, well, pity her a little. Like that time she'd slipped into a giant pile of mud and Sphene had doubled over laughing, and then cooed over her while she'd helped wash the mud from her fur. Called her "silly" and "so cute" and buried her face in her fur when it was clean. They hadn't even been together, then, but it had felt like they were in that moment.
Oh, Lamaty'i needed some attention. It was annoying that Mud Incident 2.0 was occurring and Sphene wasn't able to give her the proper fawning such an occasion deserved. But alas, duty called.
She laid her hand over Lamaty'i's and gave it a squeeze. There, enough to hold her until they were alone in their room tonight. And if not, more hand squeezes could happen.
Karl's eyes flicked towards the movement. Oh thank goodness, it was just Queen Sphene squeezing the Hunter's hand. Nothing to worry about.
…what.
Wait, was this some sort of calming technique employed against the Hunters? Could Burmecians master it?
No, what was he thinking? The moment he touched the Hunter, it would go into a frenzy. It was remarkable it hadn't already. Perhaps Queen Sphene had a stronger hold on the monster than he'd expected. Which was also concerning, because it meant she knew she had to calm it. And yet she'd brought it here.
Did she think she could fully control it? Perhaps, it wasn't quite as destructive in the absence of succulent Burmecian meat, and so she thought everything was okay. But still, it surprised him that Queen Sphene would be this level of naive. He'd read up on her file in advance of the visit, and she had become queen at fifteen, of an ages. That would make anyone grow up early, he thought, but perhaps she'd been more insulated than the documents let on. In fact, maybe her visit had been a catastrophe in the making all along.
He wasn't sure what to make of it all, but that wasn't what was important right now. What was important was doing his duty. For Burmecia.
King Mimir of Burmecia wanted to grip his throne so hard his nails would press into the wood. But he could not, because he was not in his throne room.
The entirety of the Palace Guard had piled into his courtyard to show off "exercises" to their guests. Where Mimir had received them, pretending that this was normal behavior on a state visit, especially when his guests were on the opposing side of the courtyard from him.
The young lady seemed to notice something was off, but he hoped that she would chalk it up to cultural changes in the last 400 years since she'd been to Burmecia. And he hoped that the piles and piles of soldiers between him and the Hunter would dissuade her from attacking. Also the snipers hidden on the mountain.
If not, he had his laser blade ready. His son had been secreted out of the palace, so if worst to the worst came Puckington would be safe and the country would still have a monarch, albeit a much younger one. Who liked black clothes and piercings too much.
And hopefully the town would stay safe, of course. The rain was a considerable help with the monsters outside since it tipped the aether levels towards water, so their barrier was in much better shape than most. This allowed them luxuries like a whole two limos and a lot more laser weapons, but he wasn't certain if those would deflect a Hunter.
For now, though, he yelled across his marching guards to the young lady like it was a totally normal thing to do. And she was yelling right back underneath the canopy tent they'd plopped down on that end.
"I HOPE WE CAN SEE THE DRAGOONS ON THE MORROW, YOUR MAJESTY! THEY STILL USE LANCES, YES?"
”YES, THAT'S RIGHT, YOUR MAJESTY! THEY HAVE LASER LANCES NOW, WHICH DIDN'T EXIST FOUR HUNDRED YEARS AGO, I THINK! WE STILL USED METAL ONES BACK THEN, SINCE THE DRAGOONS WERE SO USED TO THEM!"
"OH, THAT'LL BE LOVELY TO SEE, WON'T IT, WUK LAMAT?"
The beast winced and Mimir froze.
"Oh, oh, I'm sorry, Lamaty'i. I didn't mean to yell right in your face!"
Wuk Lamat rubbed her ears, but then gave her a little grin. "You called me Lamaty'i."
Sphene blushed. "I'll give you more hand squeezes if you want them."
"I'm a bit drier and I got you worrying over me, so I think I feel a bit better already. Also, King Mimir can't hear what we're saying at this distance, can he? He looks really confused now."
Sphene looked out to King Mimir and her eyes narrowed. "Yes. We need to talk about that, later."
Wuk Lamat didn't press. There was a time and a place for everything.
Thankfully, the King had not been eaten. No one had. But they still had a massive problem.
Freya Neumond had to figure out how to kill a Hunter. And not only that, but without anyone raising a fuss about it, not least Sphene and the beast's brother/co-ruler.
The entirety of the Dragoons was crowded in a single audience hall. No idea was too outlandish to suggest, no plan to wild. The leader of the Dragoons needed some idea, any idea, that would allow them to take the monster out before it lost control. Everyone could tell it way only a matter of time, what with its behavior. The furrowing of its brow, the wince, the several hand squeezes Queen Sphene had deployed over the next few hours, including when the monster was getting fitted by the palace tailors. If those tailors had had any fighting talent at all, Freya would have made them officers in the Dragoons for their sheer bravery. As it was, they were due for medals next week.
Apparently, they had gotten within an ilm of the thing to do their job, and they'd even volunteered for it. Said it was better to test the limits of the Hunter with people that weren't important for the fighting. Two Palace Guards had locked them in the room with Sphene and the monster, claiming privacy concerns. And then they'd listened and waited for the screams. It would have been a perfect excuse, honestly, if it had happened. Queen Sphene seemed naive, but Lord Goring reported that she was intelligent, compassionate, and exacting in her duties. Even she would understand putting down the beast if it had teared Burmecians apart in front of her. And hopefully, the Hunter's adoptive brother either would have understood, or been placated by Sphene.
But that didn't happen, and nobody knew what to do. Poison was suggested, but no one knew if Hunters were susceptible to the same poisons as most other races, and there was a danger that poison could be spread accidentally and kill Queen Sphene. Someone suggested a lightning strike "accident", but that required getting the beast outside the dome. Car accident? Might not kill. Sniping? They'd need someone to take the fall and come up with a plausible reason for killing the monster that didn't mention the Story. Someone suggested straight up just telling Queen Sphene about it, but there was no guarantee she wouldn't treat it as myth, and then she would be on high alert.
It had been nine hours already since their meeting had begun and they'd just eaten dinner (aka bunches of nuts passed around in open bags as they still held the meeting), but there was still no solution. And every hour that they were thinking was another hour that allowed the Hunter to grow more and more agitated.
"Something's really wrong," Sphene said. "I don't know how well you noticed, with the cold and wetness." It was late. She was toweling off Lamaty'i's fur after a shared bath and the other woman was purring in the cutest way, but they did need to talk about this before cuddling in bed. Or any other activities.
"First, call me by my name again."
"Lamaty'i."
"Thank you." Lamaty'i gave her a happy little peck on the lips, then sprawled out on the bed. Sphene slotted herself in next to her. "Alright, so. I did notice. They seem…on edge. Jumpy, like prey animals."
"And that's what unusual. Burmecians aren't like that, they're proud and strong people. I've never seen them that nervous before, and I doubt anyone has."
"The courtyard thing was really weird, right? It was like…they were trying to block us from coming near him."
"Yes, and that's not how I remember it, at all. We met the king back then in the throne room. Even with four hundred years come and gone, it seems weird to show off your soldiers like you're going to war. Especially since there really aren't any here, anymore, just fights against monsters." Sphene shrugged and decided to play with Lamaty'i's hair while they thought together.
"Monsters, huh. But they looked like there was a monster there already."
"Yes, like they thought it would jump out at any moment."
Wuk Lamat sat upright very abruptly and Sphene pouted. "I wasn't done fawning."
"I'm the monster."
Sphene blinked.
"Come again?"
"What do Burmecians look like? Like, if you had to say what animal they look like?"
"Oh! I—but there weren't…there were never Xbr'aal here, were there? Or any sort of big cat that hunted them?"
Wuk Lamat shook her head. "You come from here and even you sound like you're not sure."
Sphene sat up too and sighed. "Because I'm not. But you're right, they are scared of you, and they probably think you're about five seconds away from eating—holy shit, the tailors. That's why. They locked the door because they were sending those poor tailors to their doom."
She looked at Lamaty'i, and Lamaty'i looked at her. Less than a minute later, they were fully clothed and walking towards the edge of town, scales in tow.
Harald was terrified. The Hunter was back. But he had to be strong. For the Story. For Burmecia.
"We're leaving," Queen Sphene said.
"Open the gate, please," said the beast.
He swallowed. He trembled. It was easy to bend; you had to choose to be brave.
"No," he said.
He drew his laser blade.
"I can't let you leave. Whatever it did up there, however many people it killed—I can't let you leave, no matter who you are."
Queen Sphene looked straight at him, and was about to open her mouth.
"I didn't kill anyone," the monster said.
He held his laser blade with both hands. One movement from them—
The Hunter sat down on the floor.
"Lamaty'i! They sent those poor men to their deaths!" Queen Sphene's hand twitched. The one right above her book.
Harald tensed his muscles.
"And does sending another man to death—a real one—make it better?" The monster said.
"I—No. You're right." Queen Sphene seemed to have tears in her eyes.
"Tell me what's wrong?" The beast said.
Harald didn't loosen his muscles.
"I was going to attack this man for no reason, just because I was angry! Even though he probably has no idea what I'm talking about!" Queen Sphene took a shuddering breath and the tears got larger.
"And I just—Burmecia was so nice when I last visited, the Burmecians so lovely when they came to Treno. And I wanted to show it to you, but it's just been miserable. It's horrible and nothing like the Burmecia I remember, and they contracted mercenaries to Lindblum back then, for gods sake!" Queen Sphene slid down to the floor, and then the creature held her as she cried.
"You wouldn't have attacked him. I know you."
"But—oh, Lamaty'i…I wanted you to enjoy it. And now I'm breaking down, I didn't even do that when Calyx—"
"You didn't have someone you cared so much about then. I mean, personally. Just Alexandria. It's always harder to stop crying when it's another person instead of your duty," the creature soothed.
"You say you're not smart, Lamaty'i, but you are so much more together than I am. The moment I'm not in front of my subjects it becomes so much harder to just…function, sometimes."
Harald loosened his muscles.
"Yeah, but you do everything alone. I have Koana and I've always had him even when we're fighting, and that's kept me going when I'm not in front of people. You've never had that."
"I do now. We're getting married, remember?" Queen Sphene raised her head.
The creature (Lamaty'i?) grinned. "Oh, yeah. We are." She hugged Queen Sphene tightly.
"I'm sorry," Harald said.
They looked at him.
"I'm not supposed to tell outsiders this, but—"
When Freya Neumond found them, they were all sitting on the floor of the guardhouse, talking. The guard facing her, the other two with their backs to her. They had been trying to find them ever since the Palace Guard had reported their bedchamber window was open.
"So they don't have us over there? Like, at all?" The guard said.
"No, but I know there are at least two other shards with Xbr'aal. Maybe you're unique to the Ninth, like Garleans are unique to the Source," Queen Sphene replied.
"Maybe that's how it is, then. Again, I'm truly sorry, Wuk Lamat. I should have known better. It'd be like saying all Hyune are evil because Lindblum released that terrible lightning bomb," the guard said.
"I get why you were scared, though. Something that ate and enslaved your people showed up in your city. That's going to be terrifying, even if you try not to judge me. And that was really brave, you know. Stopping us from leaving, even if it was for the wrong reasons," the beast said. Queen Sphene nodded.
Here was an opportunity, Freya thought. Knock Sphene and the Hunter out from behind, stab the beast, then skewer the guard—no, she had to take the fall, it was only right—have him skewer her. The Dragoons would make up a story that she'd been increasingly erratic, that they had tried to dismiss her command and that today's all hands meeting was their attempt to do it. They failed, Freya ran. Only issue was the location of the body, but maybe they could say they were taking a walk and Freya chased them up to the guardhouse. She could knock Sphene hard enough she wouldn't remember how she'd gotten there.
And then, she realized what the monster had said.
The guard had tried to stop them from leaving. And they had actually stopped. But he didn't have his weapon out.
Which meant they were in the guardhouse of their own volition.
Freya could twist her mind in knots. Convince herself that Queen Sphene had calmed the monster and was playing it cool, because she was enamored with it and didn't want it to die. That the queen was terrible, the Hunter even more terrible, and that the only solution was death.
Several hours ago, she'd believed it. Even after they'd sent the tailors in, she'd believed the beast was being held barely in control.
But "beasts" and "monsters" don't usually apologize for frightening people and then tell them they're brave. And in this wrecked world, you had to work with people to get by. You couldn't afford to be mean and stingy and judgemental, or else you'd all sink together.
How had they forgotten that? It was one thing to remember Vanadis, quite another to judge at first glance. Her story was about being brave in adversity. It wasn't about looking for enemies in every dark corner.
So Freya Neumond coughed to get everyone's attention, knelt down, and apologized.
Freya took the fall, just as she expected. But it was okay. She really had been acting erratic. With a clear head, she never would have lead the Dragoons into such dishonor. But she wasn't the only one. The day she was stripped of her command, all her officers retired, using the same reasoning she had. A small group of dragoons left that night, planning to wander the Mist Continent and slay monsters as their atonement.
It was a small blessing that the Dragoons had planned the plot all on their own, so the King hadn't known what was going on. There were only four outsiders aware of the plot: the two palace tailors and the two Palace Guards who had accepted them as volunteers. The guards went with the dragoons. As for the tailors, they had been allowed to keep their positions (minus the medals), on the advice of Vow Wuk Lamat. After all, they hadn't volunteered to kill, they had volunteered to die. And if they had, Vow Wuk Lamat had said, killing her would have been perfectly reasonable.
Harald the guard got a small letter of commendation for his bravery, per Vow Wuk Lamat's and Queen Sphene's recommendation. He had refused anything more, ashamed as he was for his cowardice in other matters.
Lord Goring had bowed over and over again to Vow Wuk Lamat and Queen Sphene, apologizing with each one. Karl had come along and matched every bow and apology. Lord Goring had almost tendered his resignation when he was reminded by the people he was apologizing to that he had only been extremely frightened during the whole affair and had definitely not tried to kill anyone.
King Mimir had both apologized profusely and swore that he would tell the whole of the Mist Continent about how Queen Sphene and Vow Wuk Lamat had forgiven not only him for his prejudice, but every Burmecian they had met that day. That they weren't worthy of that forgiveness, but had received it anyway. He'd even gotten a wedding invitation from them—unofficial, of course, since the date wasn't set yet—but it was one he fully intended to RSVP for.
And one day in the pouring rain, on a stage in front of all Burmecia, a new part of the No Longer Secret Story was written.
"Many, many years later, so many years that no one could know how many, two people visited Burmecia. One was a friend of theirs, the Queen of Alexandria, and the other—a Hunter.
"And the people were frightened. 'A Hunter, here? It will kill us all,' they said. 'So let us kill it, first.' To do this, they tried to trick the Hunter. Two volunteers entered the Hunter's room and locked the door, thinking it would kill them. Then, the Dragoons could kill the Hunter, and the Queen would not be angry.
"But they did not die. Yet, the people were foolish and still seized by weakness and misery and fear. The Dragoons plotted many ways to kill the Hunter. And then, the Queen and the Hunter realized what the people had done—but they did not know that those who had entered the room had offered themselves. All they had seen was two people being pushed to death by cowards.
"They went to the gatehouse to leave Burmecia, and there a guard stopped them who knew the Secret Story. It gave him bravery. But like the others, he was weak and miserable—even though the Hunter had done nothing, he stopped them. Because he believed the only reason for them to flee would be if the Hunter had killed.
"But the Hunter was wise and kind. When the Queen despaired that she had almost attacked the guard in her anger over the cowards' ploy, the Hunter comforted her. And when the guard saw this, he apologized, and was comforted. And when the Captain of the Dragoons saw this, she apologized, and was comforted. And when all of Burmecia apologized, they were forgiven.
"So let us remember the story of Vanadis, but also what it does not say. It does not tell you that there are good Hunters, or wise ones, or kind ones. To be Burmecian is to live by the Story, yes, but also to add to the Story. To learn new ways of choosing bravery, to learn new ways of rising above not only fear and misery but hatred. To share these ways with those who come after us, wherever they may be."