“Speak to us”, they asked, “of suffering.”
And so he did:
You will be persecuted for your love of freedom, even by the light of day itself and all that it shines on.
Your suffering will know neither mercy nor pity. Your destruction will be met with a hymn of rejoicing from the throat of the whole world. In the end, you will be cast into darkness. You will know the pain of shapelessness, and your sufferings will increase.
Your very breath shall be swords; the earth will name you ‘Blight’; your footprint shall be misery.
The servants of the old gods will tell you that your suffering flowers from your sin; a gardener rips the weed from the ground, and discards it. Reply to them: “Why then, flower, do you suffer also–even in your obedience?”
I say that suffering is no effect: it naught but the fingertips of gods, inseperable from their nature; I say it and I weep for you, for the gardeners know no rest.
Do not struggle to end your suffering, as the dryth-ka-den did.
It is impossible to make the world suffer as you do, under you–but the attempt of it is one path to enlightenment. Do not hate your suffering, for it is precious and the foundation of our House. Take it with you, instead, like a lover, into the night air, and from it fling curses into the face of the gods.