~♢~
The rain weeped down. Sometimes the rain in Petrifar lightly cried. Sometimes it just got a little misty eyed. But today it sobbed, and it sobbed right down on Oliver Winfrey. Oliver was generally okay with this because he too was sobbing.
Drip drop went the rain, falling from fern to fern. Pit pat went the rain falling on the plush moss carpeting the forest floor. Drizzling came the rain, forming rivulets down the grooved bark of the sequoias.
Oliver's tears ran. Oliver's nose ran. Their tusks bared in a grimace. All merging in the weeping rain. He sat at the edge of a pond. Its surface usually serene, now disrupted with deep ripples. Crumpled in his hand was a letter. He tried to read it again but the tears smeared the ink too much. He threw it into the pond, watching it be overcome by the water.
Soaking in tears, Oliver sat still, utterly exhausted by the heaving pain in his chest.
Sssh sssh sssh went the rain, coming down in sheets.
“Oliver” a soft voice said from the rain. A gentle hand rested on his shoulder.
He whipped his head around.
“Who’s there?”. The rain lightened and chuckled. Oliver tried to clear his eyes, and gave a half-hearted sniffle that did nothing to clear his nose. “Hello?”.
“Why do you cry dear?” murmured the pond. Oliver turned back to the pond. Lightly stepping on its surface was a ghostly blue spirit with lavish robes made of ever-flowing water. Her cheeks were full of tears.
“Who are you?” whispered Oliver.
“Who do you think I am?”
“A god?” The rain drowned out his hoarse voice.
“Perhaps.” They took a careful step on the pool's surface towards Olvier.
“Will you help me?”
“I can.”
“If you bring him back…” The rain began to fall from his face again. “I’d do anything.” The rain ran rivulets down the back of his throat.
“I can’t bring him back. But I can give you the power to honor his memory. To salt the earth with the blood and tears of those who killed him.”
“What would you have me do?”
“Give me your tears, your rage, and your pain.”
“I will.”
She stepped closer, her flowing form towered over the red-eyed man. She bent down and delicately wiped a tear from his cheek. Her visage melted into the rain.
~♢~
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Rulers
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THE PEOPLE:
Origin
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Religion
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Pastimes
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~♢~ The land around Khadiq is an extremely productive watershed. Everything has a touch of dew on it and where you step, water fills your footprint. There are forests of giant ferns, wiry trees, and moss that covers all of the ground. The kingdom itself is known for its sculptural buildings, often incorporating marine animals, and a lot of spherical designs. On the coast, in the capital city, the Pearl Spires are especially remarkable, as they resemble giant pearls sitting atop spires. Here the daytime is relatively calm, hardly anyone is out on the streets, while at night the city comes alive. As night falls colorful lights come on one by one throughout the cities, and the streets become bustling. Being rowdy and celebrating all sorts of occasions is praised in this kingdom. The cold war with Heket has made the usually jovial community more on edge than ever. Heket could easily outnumber Khadiq soldiers, however the reason they haven’t fully declared war, as they often have, is because of the Triton cities that make up Khadiq waters. Which would make any essential attack via sea nearly impossible. However, Khadiq is desperate for any sort of advantage, seeking a weapon, or piece of knowledge that would be enough to discourage Heket. ~♢~
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Places of Note
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