The One Who Guides Wind and Flame (5)

The next day, when I announced my policy of not causing any casualties, the elders of the Barm tribe hated me intensely, though that was only natural.

They called me an outsider and a fake Wind Envoy however they pleased, but when I replied that they could manage somehow without borrowing that fake's power, they fell silent.

For starters, I had never claimed to be the Wind Envoy in the first place.

Ultimately, even the hard-headed elders must have understood that they had no future.

It was only that understanding and feelings were entirely separate things.

How should I put it? I generally don't get along with the sort of people called elders—those who think that being old grants them authority and makes them important.

After all, living a long time and building up something was only natural; it wasn't something to act superior about.

Of course, what people had accumulated was useful, and those who actively put it to use were worthy of respect.

Even when age has weakened their bodies, an elder who uses their experience to serve as an advisor to those around them is someone one ought to bow to.

That, I think, is what elders are for in the first place...