Shaman - Р’рўрўрђрќр•рњ (рјсѓр·с‹рєр° Рё Сѓр»рѕрір°: Shaman) Guide

Pyotr took the flowers and smiled through his tears. "Yes, they were, son. Yes, they were."

Pyotr reached into his pocket and pulled out an old, faded photograph. In it, a group of young men in worn-out uniforms smiled at the camera, their arms draped over each other's shoulders. They had been his best friends, and they had gone off to a conflict decades ago to protect their homes and families. Pyotr was the only one who had returned. Pyotr took the flowers and smiled through his tears

Every year, Pyotr attended the founder's day celebration, and every year, he sat in the front row as the names of the fallen were read out. He was proud of his friends, but he also felt a deep sense of sadness that they weren't there to see the town they had saved. In it, a group of young men in

Pyotr looked around at the sea of standing people and felt a lump in his throat. He realized that he wasn't alone in his remembrance. The entire town was standing with him, and with his friends. Every year, Pyotr attended the founder's day celebration,

He looked at the photograph and whispered, "We did it, boys. The town is safe, and the children are happy."

At first, no one else noticed. But then, a young woman standing next to him saw him and stood up too. Then, her husband stood up. Soon, the entire row of people was standing. The movement spread through the crowd like a wave, until thousands of people were standing in silent tribute to the men and women who had given their lives for their freedom.

This year, as the names were being read, Pyotr stood up. His knees were stiff and his back was sore, but he stood as straight as he could. He wanted to show his friends that they were not forgotten.