We are the only ones who know the language. The others either forgot it or never
cared to pass it on. They don’t understand us, we could pass it on, but they are many and we are few. We haven’t got the resources to undertake such a feat.

The writing, the lines and lines of texts, scrawled on papers destroyed long ago. How do we rebuild this once great language. Our libraries were once the envy of the world. They’re gone, completely. Erased, as if they never even existed. Any text that exists is sparse and informal.

Isolation, our means of communication have dwindled. Sure, some of us know other languages, however limited they may be. Our exposure to the outside world was never something that occupied a majority of our time.

It is a rich and powerful language. Before the others, it was the dominant language. Cities were built on this language, wars fought, treaties signed. All in this language.

It fell, as most things do. It fell quickly. The others started pushing their languages, forcing them upon us. As the other languages became more prominent, ours started to dwindle. The others were simpler and more direct than ours. I suppose it was only natural that simplicity would win over beauty and elegance. Simplicity takes less time, time is a crucial resource.

How bad would it be to convert? To join with the others? To make our lives easier? Are we sacrificing our social needs just to be elegant and different? Is being too different hurting us?