[ perhaps, if the gods truly did wish to see humanity grow, what was left of their minds would have them cede their positions willingly ... he cannot say. he cannot speak for the gods who were gone centuries before his own wings spread to span the skies of what would later be the nation that devoted itself to his worship. all he has is his own experience and the dusty, forgotten tomes and scrolls he's studied. ]

There are some in every age. There are those who are willing to try, but their reach limited, at best.

[ but what an interesting approach these vampires took in attempting to cull the herd, even if not for the correct motives. humanity is a rotten, sickened thing. how does one rescue the healthy, salvageable fruit from the diseased tree? and even if they could, can anyone say they should be the arbiter of who should be allowed to live, if they condemn the rest to die?

no, anyone who would claim to be able to hold the title— they are the last person who would deserve or suit it. is the only thing for it then to burn the entire tree down, and let the ashes feed whatever new bloom follows? ]

So then the question becomes: how does one move the human heart? How does one reach the hearts of many, and make it last?

[ the future is built upon the past. if the past is nothing but strife, ancient animosities, long-established prejudices and grudges, and none will choose to learn from it, is it not better to wipe the slate clean and start anew? ]