“How this place came to be? How? How!?”
Rafal bellowed to the heavens, asking of his family, the crowd gathered for their midday siesta. The group quieted down and focused on the master of ceremonies, taking a deep breath, basking in the soft silence enveloping them.
“Legend has it there’s an ancient river running through this city. Another said we were descended from the skies themselves, bringing life to a desolate place. But I think my favorite has to be the Thousand Year Deluge that brings the hidden spring to this arid landscape. It gives me hope I can live long enough to see one myself.”
The crowd murmurs lightly, comparing their own accounts of the stories to one another between nibbles of food. Rafal motioned to the crowd with his thick, heat tempered hands, asking for his guest’s response.
“Are any of you here children of the Deluge? I’d hate to offend in my recount–”
“Just tell the story already!”
“Alright you impatient tykes, we’re doing the Deluge story!”
Arms outstretched and with a beaming smile, Rafal turned to the simmering grill. Just as easily as he cooked up a delicious smorgasbord, he clapped his hand over the grill a single, resounding time. The coals ignited beneath the rack, going aflame and completely engulfing its iron bars in their mysterious glow. Rafal turned back to the crowd with a smirk that dripped of self satisfaction. As the booth behind him slowly turned from a warm, cozy glow to a cloud covered downpour that could quell the coals in an instant. Lightning flashed behind him and nobody batted an eye, they just listened as the storm rumbled on under Rafal’s bellowing voice.
“Just understand this, my friend, there is no single story that can encompass everything that brings us here today. Even you, with your own adventures, are part of the tapestry enveloping our humble home. One of those threads happens to be the Thousand Year Deluge.
I don’t think any of us have been here long enough to see one ourselves, most of the elders around the city tend to keep to themselves at that age, conferring their experiences to the next generations from the comfort of their homes.”
The storm rolling over the grill bellowed, or at least it seemed to, lightning flashing through the clouds, making landfall all over the desert range. The city grew into view, an immaculate sandcastle that disappeared into the downpour like a mirage into the sky. Once the rain subsided, the clouds dissolved into spotty, dripping sunshine onto the soaked dune. A still layer of rainwater mirrored the sun dappled sky in a
seamless expanse of the heavens.
“We are blessed by the Leviathan from time to time with life bringing rainfall that replenishes our city and has for time immemorial. They provide a bountiful harvest and bring lush greens to us, keeping us shaded and luxurious for a time, overflowing with bounty from the Mother. But with that bounty comes those who wish to take it for their own. And Uran lie sieged time and time again.”
The group of diners noshed on their noms and spectated quietly, fixated on the changing lights and powerful voice narrating one of their foundational cultural artifacts on which the backs of their communities are built. Uran itself existed as a desert melting pot, inviting different families within its walls with its natural protection and stark remoteness from other communal life on Vescrutia, resting survival on the shoulders of those who could work together to brave the harshness of their homestead. The lush times following the rejuvenating rain could bring new life to the region, as well as greed dripping from the mouths of hardy adventurers.
The whole of the city disappeared into the reflecting pool of the desert expanse, but the grill image produced a band of travelers walking on the soaked sand’s surface. For a moment, everything seemed to stand still, even as the clouds cascaded above and below. Then, as easily as the rain stopped, flashes of light and smoke appeared from within the heavenly image. The enchanted coals sizzled in the background, layering the silent image with its own rendition of a battlefield’s song.
“Our nature invites us to take care of travelers who brave the Ganjun Wastes, as the desert will meet everyone with unbiased cruelty. We take it upon ourselves to bring the bounty of this very special home to anyone lucky enough to find our doorstep. And with great grace, we also maintain a solemn oath to do away with outsiders who threaten to upset our way of life. All are welcome here, but none will take advantage of our beautiful home. And thus…”
The flashing and smoke within the heavenly landscape eventually pittered out as nightfall came to the animation. At nightfall, the receded clouds revealed a full moon and sky speckled with gemstone starlight. The invisible city sprung to life with soft lights, lanterns and fireworks. They lasted throughout the whole night while the layer of water covering the city’s structure and the desert around it evaporated, leaving a hazy mist illuminated by festivities hanging over the area.
“On the heels of strife, we find ourselves renewed, refreshed.”
By morning in the back of the booth, pockets of green blossomed all over the desert, from the walls of the city and the ground below, exploding onto the scene like wildfire. The open blue sky and lush surroundings were a stark contrast from a single evening prior.
“The Thousand Year Deluge supposedly comes once in an ‘I’ll let you guess’ how long. It washes away everything around us, moving immense amounts of land in a single, sinister storm. And still the city withstands that torrential force, even growing more beautiful because of it. Trouble knows how to find its way to even the most remote regions. We, the people of the desert’s bounty, uphold our duty to protect the city the way she protects us. A thank you to those who came before us. AYE?!”
Rafal raises a dumpling he seemed to pull out of nowhere proudly to the sky, calling the crowd to action in a gripping bellow. They responded in turn to him and raised either a morsel or manus in concert with him, shouting back,
“AYE!”