The Sahal, the Wastelands

The Wastelands of Samis, the site of a war more total than anything else the history of the Marasran had produced.

When the raging clouds of dust settled, only a wasteland remained. Where had been sea, was stone. Where crops had flourished, was the most bitter of deserts. The animals were dried bone, and the people, and the Queens and Lords were dead, a goddess lay chained, her body a hive for the worst evil our people could imagine.
There was nothing for us after that day. That is why most left. Because they didn’t see the land anymore. It slid away from them like a dream, an abstraction glimpsed from the corner of an eye. They left because they were strangers in their own home.
The desert belongs to us. To the nomads, the demons, the glorious relics of goddess and Prince. It is a land of war. A land of debts settled and vengeance taken.
This is the Sahal, and no lord of death may claim so bitter a reckoning.


One Response to “The Sahal, the Wastelands”

  1. That’s quite a nice tease there. Well written.

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