[ WP ] A tribe has been migrating for so long that generations have been born and died knowing only travel . The only thing guiding them now are legends and stories .

Our Cycle moves between and around the Holy Craters. Never through them. 
 
 I've heard the Long Death story enough times. Wander too close, and you will become crippled years later. Your sons will be born with missing arms, or no mouth. Your daughters will be a torso and a head. Spawns of the desecration their parent committed. 
 Men, women and guides of Amca are told the stories from an early age. 
 About the slow, terrible wrath of the Creators. 
 
 That's what it means to breach the sanctity of our Creators. They slumber beneath the deep dents of the Amca where they landed aeons ago. A green glow, smashing hillsides and routing Blue Streams. Amca was changed. Transformed. Sanctified by their arrival. 
 Clouds erupted from the hills of Amca, unleashed by their destruction. 
 Thus, the sky was born. 
 Clouds remain there to this day, reminding our tribe that the Creators are among us. 
 Our Creators who reside in the Holy Craters. 
 
 Sometimes, clouds will fill the Holy Craters with still water. 
 They are not always empty cavities burrowed deep into the Amca. 
 For us to drink from a Holy Crater is sin. 
 A guide once warned me not to do so. 
 When I asked why, he told me the Tale of the Last Cityen. 
 
 Long ago, the Last Cityen walked miles from City ( our cradle ) looking for new fields to grow food. The stone and monoliths of City could only grow so much. This wandering lasted for days until he came across a lake. No Blue Streams flowed into it. The water was still as a mirror. 
 The Cityen would say that warmth flooded his face witnessing the pool. 
 A Curiosity took hold of him. 
 Yes, back when Curiosities were rampant, cursing the peoples of Amca with their ignorance. The story is that old. 
 We now say that the warmth was the Creator's warning; *Do not drink from my resting place. * 
 The Cityen drank, and became the last of his kind. 
 He drank, not knowing it was a Holy Crater. 
 When he returned months later, terror struck our ancestors. He was deformed. Turned into a Spawn of his desecration. It was a sign to leave, and take on the path of the Cycle, never again to reside in the heights and safety of City. 
 
 Why we seek the Blue Streams is our greatest tragedy. 
 The Last Cityen cursed the people of Amca with a new need. 
 Thirst. 
 This is why we drink flowing water. 
 Reminding us forever more never to fall victim to Curiosity. 
 
 The people of Amca were driven to search for Blue Streams, no matter how briefly they ran for. When the Blue Stream became Yellow, we wandered once more. Decades later, we would return to that site when the stream healed, and became blue once more. 
 
 We were thus destined to wander between and around the Holy Craters. Never through them. 
 
 Do n't drink from the Holy Craters, the guide warned me. 
 Still water is only for the Creators to drink. The burden of searching for clean, flowing water is our curse, and ours alone. 
 
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 *More at r/galokot, and thank you for reading. *
