Legacy Of Creation

Wake Of Spring Part 1

The oppressive frostbitten months had persisted well past their December egress, prolonging the hardships of the dry season;

Its scathing chill vaporized the most minuscule sign of condensation, while upon its blue throne, the reigning sun remained unclouded, untamed, and unleashed.

The skies were barren of moisture.

With arid days fueling the growing scarcity, worries of famine began encroaching upon the normally fertile spring.

Even the blanket of night frost struggled to douse the plains.

Withered and emaciated sprigs, were all these nights could muster, as the escalating weather persevered into the latter fortnight of November.

Underneath the barren landscapes of mud and stone; Nanuivuk's enclaves would endure these caustic days cloistered beneath a frozen concrete jungle laden with the sinking monoliths of a lost civilization.

STOMP! STOMP! STOMP!

Among the numerous schools that marched beneath the ruins, the pale hair and ghostly face of a young boy stood out among his slightly tawny schoolmates.

His snowy face was dotted with two crimson eyes.

On his seventh birthday, for his first trip to the surface chambers, T'udze found himself in a grandiose hallway cast with ornaments and statues of which their intricacy, no hand could conceive.

Not that his special day made much of a difference, as every peer that he marched along, from toddler to teen, shared the occasion.

As was customary of course, with the nature of Exalation being crucial as it was.

For once T'udze would step beyond the fort's Antiquitech walls.

For once he would finally see his father commanding a Vanatuk pod.

During the cold's most auspicious days, they would adventure forth and back, through buried tunnels ripe with the aroma of petrichor.

Today was no exception.

"Cauhtiquiza!"

An elderly woman shouted.

Thrusting her palm towards the following children.

Examining the floor she could see slabs of stone shattered against the floor.

The collapsing hallways could no longer escape the noxious air.

Cycles of melting and freezing days had, over the years, gradually eroded the surviving edifices.

"Tlamatzaline."

A mousy voice pleaded.

"I'm thirsty."

The elderly woman rummaged through her robes,

Her thick iridescent bangles clattered with her fidgeting, pulling a leather canteen.

"Here darling."

Handing over the drink.

"Tlama-tlama."

"Why do you try to speak like her nerd."

Hehehehe

The rest of his schoolmates giggled at the T'udze boy.

T'udze guzzled the bulbous canteen within seconds.

Dripping down his ruddy face.

Ignoring the usual bullying.

Caustic ice had bore through the stone ceiling, the piercing cold baked the moisture from the exposed soil.