[ 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 .

`` Can you tell me the one about the two kings?'' Saito asked as his grandmother tucked the thick Orak fur around his neck. The boy had never known a home but the tent in which he slept and no real bed but the Earth. 
 
 `` I do n't know if I remember that one,'' the ancient lady joked tenderly, her gnarled fingers brushing the hair out of the boy's face. He smiled as she sat beside him, preparing to tell the story. From outside, she could see the glow of the campfires where the men sat drinking and gnawing meaty bones as they laughed and talked. Every now and then, a guard paced by, spear in hand as he made the nightly rounds. The women told stories to the children and to the men when they cared to listen. A people without stories were a people destined to fail, forgetting why they walked relentlessly westwards. 
 
 `` You do!'' he insisted. `` The one with Magax and mighty Saitos.'' Whether he loved the story for his namesake or for the mystical world none of them had ever seen, she could n't tell but the way his eyes widened and he lost himself in the fantastical world made it worth it every time. 
 
 `` Ah, that one,'' she answered with a smile, taking a sip of the herbal drink in her waterbag. `` It was when Magax was king of a land beyond the Sea of Sand where the cliffs meet the ocean. He was a cruel king; the kind of king who allows a thirst for power dictate who he is. This king had the mightiest kingdom of them all and it spanned north to the ice and south past the mountains. Hundreds of thousands of people called him king, polishing gold coins that showed his face and bowing to the knights who fought in his name. 
 
 `` One day from across the ocean came news of another kingdom, the land where Saitos ruled. His was a humble kingdom, boasting only a handful of cities and nowhere near the power of mighty Magax's kingdom. Magax's cities. Oh, those were splendid. People from all the world met there, trading coin and spices and stories. Mighty fortresses called castles and walls as wide as a thousand men reached the clouds and there were more people in those cities than there are trees in the forest. `` 
 
 The boy interrupted, staring at her with his round brown eyes. `` Are cities real, Nana?'' She smiled and nodded half-heartedly. Now and then, the stories had embellishments but this was not one of them. Perhaps there were more trees than people, but the cities were said to have been splendid. 
 
 `` They were, I know that much at least. It is not since I was a little girl that we came across one as we wandered down the path of a winding river. We came across ruins; first one and then another as shadows circled overhead until finally we came across a small city tucked behind a hill and protected by the river. In the city the people lived much the way you and I do, except instead of walking all day they worked and worried about the next day. That is a story for another time though. 
 
 `` From Saitos' kingdom came news of a beast unlike any that Magax or anybody in his kingdom had ever seen. A winged beast with claws larger than an elephant who breathed fire and could slay ten thousand men. Dragons, they were called. Now Saitos did not claim to own this dragon, nor did any mortal. The dragons lived far to the east past the jungles of the land across the sea and in caves in the mighty waterfall at the edge of the world. But Magax was jealous, deciding the dragons would be his.'' 
 
 He interrupted again. `` Where are the dragons now?'' he asked excitedly, a new question arising each time she told the story. It was ingrained in her mind as much as his by now and she had no doubt that he spent his days thinking of the way the world was once said to be. 
 
 `` Some say they fly still, hidden by the clouds. They breathe their fire to keep the sun shining and the cold days and winter happen because they grow hungry.'' She said it with conviction but doubted it, for where would the dragons go to hide on cloudless days when the sun beat mercilessly upon the tribe that steadily walked. 
 
 `` Have you ever seen one?'' Saito asked in awe. She smiled tenderly and shook her head. 
 
 `` I have not, little one. The last of the dragons was sighted long before my time. Perhaps they still fly but what men have done to them have long scared them off.'' 
 
 `` Why do we travel west instead of east towards the dragons, Nana?'' he asked curiously, his brow furrowing deeply as he pondered this question. She frowned now, surprised at the simple immensity of this question. 
 
 `` It is the way the world is,'' she mumbled unconvincingly before picking up her waterskin and beginning to say goodnight. Saito shook his head and insisted and she sighed and sat back down. `` The world moves east, little one, which is why we move west. For every two steps we take, the world takes a step the other way.'' 
 
 `` So we could ride the world eastwards to the jungles?'' he asked, clearly confused. She shook her head. 
 
 `` The jungles are likely no more. As the land reaches the sea at the edge, it breaks and cracks and falls off the Earth down the waterfall, taking forests and cities and naughty boys like you down with it. There is nothing but death off the edge. That is why we walk westwards. To escape the end of the world.'' 
 
 Saito frowned, finally relenting and allowing her to stand to go to sleep. She paused at the entry to the tent as he softly called out her name and she smiled sadly as he said what every young boy someday said. `` I will go east someday, Nana. I will see the dragons and the edge of the world.'' 
 
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