Asher stood silently, watching the wind brush against his hair.
That quote echoed in his mind. It came from an old saying, one rooted in how history kept repeating itself.
Mistakes, wars, collapses—different faces, same patterns.
(You've seen the cycle yourself, haven't you? Every time peace lasted too long, their guard dropped. And worst of all, they'd start fighting among themselves. It's just built into their nature.)
Asher couldn't help but agree.
"I know...That's why I won't make it too easy for them. I just don't want to throw them into an unlivable world before they're ready."
(Then what? You'll raise them like cubs, give them enough to live but not enough to get comfortable?)
He nodded slowly. "Something like that. I'll protect them from the environmental threats … but leave enough pressure so they keep adapting."
(And how will you decide when it's time to stop holding their hands?)
