The scriptures told of a vast plain blessed with fertile soils and clear waters. Within that plain grew fruits that increased vitality and glowing creatures that could increase fortitude and strength.

The scriptures told of a land hidden away by the Gods, guarded by 16 creatures known as Colossi who loomed so tall that it was said that the mountains themselves knelt before them.

The scriptures told of a bridge that spanned across a savage desert that lead into a temple where the Blessed Lands would open itself to those that found it.

Omne believed those scriptures. He had no choice but to believe them. His people were starving, wounded after their tribe was scattered from their farms by the Queen’s army. They had travelled through sheer mountains, dense forests and empty plains where the rain poured down upon them. They had lost many along the way, including Omne’s mate, morale was at an all-time low and many were starting to lose faith in Omne, even the Gods themselves. Yet they pushed on, hoping and praying that the Blessed Lands were real and not just a folk tale.

They came across two temples with a light shining through a narrow crack in the middle. Through the crack Omne saw a large temple looming in the distance. The crack was large enough for a horse to fit through so Omne sent a few soldiers to scout ahead, led by his son Emon. They came back an hour later telling tales of a bridge that lead to a monstrous temple and vast grassy lands beyond the temple. The faces of Omne’s tribe lit up. Could this be The Blessed Land the Scriptures told of?

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The following day Omne led his entire tribe across the bridge. Below them was the desert that looked more like a sea of sand and straight ahead lay the temple, beckoning them forward. At the end of the bridge was a door that opened automatically, as if the temple itself was welcoming them. Inside were winding steps that led downwards. They descended, the clattering of their horses’ hooves echoing down the temple. At the bottom of the winding staircase was a pond with the purest water Omne had ever seen. His tribe gathered around that pond while he and a few members of his personal guard headed into the light.

It was almost blinding.

As the horses trotted on ahead, Omne noticed stone idols of numerous different creatures of all shapes and sizes. Creatures Omne had never seen in his life. There was an altar at the end of the temple and finally a staircase that lead down to a beautiful grassy field. Omne and his son were the first to set foot on this land, his tribe followed.

Omne breathed a sigh of relief, finally his people were safe. The last thing he heard before he collapsed onto the grass was the voice of his son and the last thing he saw was a majestic beast that cast a gigantic shadow across the fields he lay upon.

….

The scriptures told of a vast plain blessed with fertile soils and clear waters. Within that plain there lived a tribe who had managed to escape the persecution of a ruthless Queen. The tribe built large cities guarded by majestic Colossi.

The scriptures told of a vast plain. Within that plain the people witnessed a decadence, more focused on the material they started hoarding the blessed fruit of that land, selling it for coins that meant nothing. The people challenged the Guardians of the land for sport, building arenas to confine and belittle them.

The scriptures told of a vast plain and the darkness that threatened to consume it all.