Ah, Ezup. A young new Burgeond. I remember his Inversion at The Hourglass. I sat and watched, as I must for all Inversions. You smiled broadly in the noonday sun. You became a Granulated when you performed for us at the temple. Then through your research, you proved you could be a diligent and intelligent scholar. You found the original songs of the ancient Burgeond who could not write down what would be burned by the end times.
Now I stand in your temple. As expected you fly in the face of all the rest of us sandy old ancient Burgeond. Tapestries in a rainbow of colors. Carpets to tread on. Colored stone and even woods adorn your wall with paintings. The people sing loudly and play complex instruments. If it weren't for the fact you bring second dawn to each day with your music many would have had your ground into sand by now.
It was when I saw your priests wearing clothes they couldn't be removed that I became interested though. The ink of a painting embalmed on the skin like melted wax. Pictures of dunes, and written songs, as well as images of you and ancient Burgeond permanently to carry around. I'm sure it will cause the usual uproar but now this, I am still considering my own opinion of the skin turned to art. A distraction to be sure, but perhaps, this one is welcome. Without it being a fleeting dune, as it is part of you, many could be convinced it is different from the trivialities that come down our great river to pull the people away from their holy work.
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