Wednesday, March 28, 2012

A tale of the Vreehalija part 1

The suns made a final attempt, blazing for a just a moment before sinking way to the west.  With daylight the day had been humid and oppressive, but with darkness it was quickly cold.  These were the middle days where winter fights against the coming warmth of the year.  It always seemed the victory came with dark.  Ooshinahope places a hand upon the mound structure of the aqueduct that had been shading.  These structures crossed the desert bringing water to the dry lands.  In some huge ventricular ley lines coursed with water coursing a vast flush of water with several hearts pumping in unison.  Here an infinite line of insects carried droplets from one basin to another.  All one must do is bore through the mount wall to gain the life saving water.  It was a system the desert men such as Ooshinahope relied.

Ooshinahope was of the high desert people who called themselves the Vreehalija.  A high born people who even in servitude held themselves aloof and proper.  The call of the horseman was in the blood but, Ooshinahope answered in his own way.  For all the cavalrymen, He was a nomad, for all the merchants he was captain.  He was his own, few could say that, but he was his own.  Fate hand granted Ooshinahope a ship and the sea of sand.  He could ask for no greater gifts. 

No comments: