The land below our feet

No peace can last forever, and they knew it. The ancient words told the old tales and taught them how to fear, to be prepared. But as new generations came by, they started to forget. With every moon that died and every sun that was born, the memories became foggy. The elders reminded them through the chants, the ceremony, and every offering they made to preserve the truce, but as time healed the wounds, it also wiped out the reminiscence of the truth.

Slowly, but surely, it all started feeling like a bad dream from a very long time ago. Nothing but a story to make people recite the Selah and be kind to each other.

No one now could attest the happening of something so extraordinary and archaic anymore, somehow it was easier to ignore it... and so they did.

They thought the gods had forgotten them, they thought that they were never coming back.

And they were wrong.