Burnt Earth

I usually avoid street preachers and the like, they’re grifters and lunatics. Typically, they’ve been driven insane by poverty, sickness, or desperation—or they’re simply seeking to deceive and exploit those who would listen. However, I noticed one young woman as I exited the temple at the center of Bajad.  She was lucid and coherent.  Her words and figure appeared to resonate with the crowd that had gathered around her:

Do you ever ask yourself why we must live in this desert?  This dead and barren place we call home?  Where the dust coats our lungs and stops our crops from growing?  It is because of our greed!  The never-ending lust for power that was born from the first great war hundreds of years ago.

Cities a hundred times larger than Anvala smoldered the morning after iron vultures spewed fire upon their innocent inhabitants.  We are the children of the dead!  We are the seeds of destruction!  Our blood is tainted and we are damned to live in these wastes.

We are doomed to repeat the mistakes of our ancestors with every zeppelin that takes to the sky.  They are our dragons, and one day they will burn us where we stand.  Our bodies will be charred shells, forever reminding those that come after of the price we paid for our avarice.

There is no escape, the Burren will be charred once more.


As recorded by Edgar Lusse

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