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This story is one that i have dreamed about. It happened more than once, and since i still remember it i thought of writting it down.



In that dream, im sitting in the middle of a desert, The sky is dark, the night has settled. The starlight is hid by a bright fire. There are no other objects around, save for a pile of rocks a bit further away. Some things are left resting there, walking sticks, water flasks. Around the fire are sitting other humans as well, my friends. I dont recognize their faces, but i sense that we have been together through many things and i know them for a long time. But there is also one figure pointing out.



Its an old man, dressed in the typical desert clothes that cover your whole body to protect you from the intense sunlight but are thin enough to not cause discomfort. His face is scared by old age and his chin is covered by a beard. He starts telling us a story.



"Some time ago these lands were not the end of the Human Lands. Some time ago we used to be free to roam to the other side of the ruins. Now we are restrained in this small piece of land because of those damned Monsters... They didnt use to be so different than you and me you know, they were humans once. But their pride brought the wrath of the Gods. All these happened a long time ago, but since they havent dissapeared, they havent died... they are still there... lurking beyond the guards' patrols, praying on us and on our blood..."