It could bounce back from undeath in a variety of ways. The most obvious scenario requiring some benevolent benefactor giving us a patch of dirt from which to begin anew. Once we have a
jar patch of dirt to call our own, Xavax young and old will flock to its banner.
Remember the "rules" we made during the First Council of Xavax, back when the realm's identity was under rapid-fire development. (before the 2nd wave that included Dodger and the rest)
</paraphrase> "All those who came to Xavax bear the blood of Xavax. Thus, their dynasties are Xavax. Their offspring are Xavax. Upon marrying Xavax, one's spouse becomes Xavax. Children of their union are born Xavax. Distant relatives bear a spark of Xavax, and with proper oath, become fully Xavax. Those deified in grand acts for the glory of Xavax become paragons of Xavax. Etc etc."
...I/we sort of-kind of-maybe-totally designed Xavax to be a viral memetic construct that infects everything it touches.
Xavax = heroin/cancer. You can get rid of us, but we'll always worm our way back into existence - if only as the echo of a memory.
Ironic, how we find ourselves right back where we started. Hey, that's what Xavax culture has always been about
From cinder to spark, and spark unto ash; the Phoenix Flame burns evermore.
"In the loss of our homes, we first lay shattered. Our very existence torn from the mantle of creation, yet we still lived. We few who hailed from opposite corners of the globe, discovered a purpose in these lands. A purpose in one another. We birthed the spirit of Xavax - we embodied the Phoenix in eternal rebearth from the ashes of what came before... Just as each of you now embody the spirit, the face, the voice, the essence of Xavax. The Phoenix of Xavax is the divine reflection of the chaos that brought us together, reforged by the ferocity, malleability, conviction, and righteousness of our greater purpose - a purpose each one had to find within himself. Birthed in the moment your spirit decided upon leaving the old world behind... Tempered by the uncertainty of thy voyages... Its flame kindled by the first pangs of hope felt upon smelling, hearing, and finally looking upon solid ground... It was born in the first child-like steps you took upon the shores of Xavax - whose innocence bore the seed of thy purpose. We are the product of the spirit that saw us torn from our homes, only to discover another lay waiting in the distance. A species of divine irony that somehow manages to infect us with hope. Desperate, glorious hope. In honor of the irony of our fates... that birthed the very spirit of the phoenix in all of us. Xerarch... "walker of earth ; land-treader ; Originating from or upon dry land."... our previously-dry empires... soon to lie submerged beneath the vast oceans. It points to our origin, our history of hailing from existing realms, from stability and education and civilization, followed by the loss of all that we are... Yet in honoring our spirits, we re-discovered the meaning of civilization, culture, faith, and purpose in a totally alien setting - with complete strangers to make matters even more complicated - for the mutual benefit or guaranteed destruction of all..."
