The Dark Somnium - "The Last Man of Faith" Creepypasta | Scary Stories from The Internet

Episode Date: July 2, 2021

This creepypasta scary story is from the creepypasta website, Written by Alex Taylor.--- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/darksomnium/message Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information. Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

It was a long time ago that I heard the tale. I was deep in the desert with only myself and a man I had hired as a guide. He found a small oasis at the bottom of a valley and set up camp for the evening. Later that night, under a moonless sky, we sat around the campfire. My guide was carving something from a piece of wood while I stared out into the desert. Do you know of any good campfire stories? I asked. He looked at me from across the campfire for a moment with his own.

bright blue eyes, and then gazed into the fire. He nodded. There is one, I know, he said. It is a very old story, and not one that many people know. Well, let's hear it then, I said. Preferably before the campfire goes out. He smiled at me and began to tell his tale. Millennia ago, there stood in the desert the great and ancient city of Zatan Taz, the Oasis City, home to tens of thousands. It was beautiful in the sunlight, with its polished sandstone buildings shining brilliantly.

Its streets were full of life in color, with merchants shouting at the pedestrians, the children running through the courtyards and the priests and scribes going about their business. The buildings everywhere were adorned with garishly colored tapestries and murals, most including the golden frond, the symbol of the Oasis City. Brightly painted statues stood guard at all gates and on the corners of the temples. Each of the city's quarters held a massive fountain, sprang water high into the air. At the center of all of the roads was the tower of the moon, rising into the sky above the city. At its base stood the great crypt, the sanctuary of the priesthood and the heart of Zatanitaz.

A high and impenetrable wall surrounded it all in a near perfect circle. But things were far from perfect in that ancient city. Just before sunrise on the night of every new moon, a young hunter named Asser climbed onto his roof to view the monthly spectacle. As the first light of dawn came over the horizon, all activity in the city ceased. The streets were empty. The people in their homes stayed silent, and then came the sound of slaying from the great crypt. It was a faint sound, but unmistakable.

Every citizen of Zatan Nataz claimed that they could hear it when it happened. And then the locked doors of the great crypt opened, and four high priests carried out a large stone sarcophagus, emblazoned with the golden frond and the black sun, the sign of the goddess. While all others hid in their homes for the duration of the ceremony, peeking out of their windows if they were brave, Aser crouched on their house. on his rooftop and watched them as they went from the center of the city to the southern gate. For five years the ceremony had been carried out. An old, old legend had stated that the city was under the protection of a goddess. One day, it said a demon would come to destroy the city. On that day, the goddess would come, banish the demon, and usher in a golden age for Zatan Nattaz.

But the demon had come, and the goddess had not. The high priest slew the demon using ancient and forbidden magic, but its heart refused to die. They ripped the organ from its body, but a new body began to slowly grow around the heart. They could not destroy it, nor could they dispose of it. So they placed it in the deepest shrine of the great crypt and sealed the doors. Then they returned every month when the demon was nearly regenerated and cut out its heart once again. Then they placed the husk in a sarcophagus and carried it to the pit of Zacchus, which was said to be the entrance to the underworld, and threw the lifeless body into it, coffin and all.

And thus the high priest claimed they protected the city until the goddess came to destroy the demon once and for all. The people of Zatannitas claimed that it was their golden age. They claimed that the demon was defeated. Aser called that heresy. To all that would listen, he made his case. Aser was a man of faith that believed the prophecy must be followed precisely. Until the goddess destroyed the demon, he said, the golden age would not truly come.

And for the goddess to appear, the demon must be let loose upon the world. His friends laughed at first. They tried to persuade him otherwise. Failing at that, they turned their backs on him at last. Aser called them blind. He said that their golden age was a farce. He had watched the city for many years, and he had seen the rot beginning to set in over it.

It began with the high priests. Beneath the banner of the Black Sun, they claimed that they were above all others in the Oasis City. They began to amass wealth, servants, and power beyond compare. He had heard rumors of them stealing from the city vaults and claiming it for the temple. He had seen them take young women from their families to fulfill their own. desires, and he had seen any who stood against them disappear as if they never existed. The city had fallen into ruin with its funds depleted. Violence, crime, and corruption

had taken hold. But the people claimed that the Golden Age was upon them because they did not want to believe what was directly in front of them. At noon on the days of slaying, the doors of the great crypt stood open, and the priests flaunted their power, for on display on the great altar for one hour was the heart that they had ripped out of the demon's chest. It beat slowly as the bravest citizens viewed it, and at the end of the hour, the veins and arteries began to sprout once again, and the people of the city were banished from the crypt until the next day of slaying. Aser viewed it every time.

He was drawn to it. At times he thought he could almost hear a voice in the air, pleading with him to free it from its torment. And one day, as the voice was clear than it had ever been, Aser finally decided to take action. He would unleash the demon. For one month he planned how he would do it. He cannot merely stop the slaying. The doors of the Great Crypt had powerful seals upon them, and even if he could gain entry, how long would it be before the demon awoke?

No, his course of action had to be more precise. He must rejoin the body and heart. He knew the course of the priest transporting the husk to the pit of Zacchus. Along the way, there was a large boulder that had been there since before the first stone of Satan Nataz was laid. It was there that he must wait. He readied his bow, which he had practiced with since he was a small child. His aim was near perfect.

He let out his arrows and performed certain rituals and blessings over them, saying that what blood they spilled would be for the greater good. And so, the next day of slaying came, Asser had hidden behind the Great Boulder a day before and camped there. He had no fear of being discovered, for none but the holy men with their load traveled toward the pit of Zacchus. Don came and the city went silent, and despite being half a mile from the city gates, Asser heard the sound of slaying.

Over the years he had come to know the exact timing and pace of the high priest traveling with the great stone sarcophagus. So he waited, knowing exactly when they would cross in front of the boulder. And exactly when he expected, he heard footfalls on the other side of his refuge. He circled the stone quietly so that he came around the road behind them. As he moved onto the road, he saw them walking slowly ahead of him, with their backs turned. He drew his bow and aimed for the priest to the front and right, the farthest away from him. His years of training had served him well, for the arrow found its target in the back of the priest's head. The other three staggered, as one edge of the sarcophagus was no longer held aloft.

Aser drew his next shot and fired at the priest on the back right. The arrow struck him in the back, and he fell. With that, the sarcophagus tumbled to the right, its side slamming into the dirt path, its heavy stone lid loosened and fell to the ground. His content struck the side with a dull bud. By now, the remaining priests had turned and seen him. They drew their ceremonial blades and charged. Before the nearest could reach him, Aser had buried an arrow in his throat.

As the last man ran at him, Aser drew and fired his fourth arrow. And then something happened that did not happen often. He missed. With the priest almost upon him, Aser panicked and quickly drew another arrow. He rushed the shot and fired wildly, missing the priest again. With that, the man was upon him, swinging the razor-sharp blade towards his head. Asser raised his bow to block the strike. The blade cut effortlessly through the thick wood, but missed its mark and buried itself

in Aser's shoulder. He screamed in pain and watched as his blood began to soak the sand beneath him. For a moment he waited, expecting the strike that would cut his throat, but it did not come. He raised his head and saw that the priest was exhausted. It had been years since he had to act so swiftly. Aser took his chance and knocked the sword from a man's grasp. Acting on instinct, he pulled the man to the ground and left on top of him, his hands going to his throat, for what seemed like in eternity he choked him until the man finally stopped

moving. Aser rose to his feet, panicked, and grasping for breath. His killing of the others was sanctified by the blessed arrows. This was cold-blooded murder. His soul was now forfeit. After a minute of panic, he calmed himself by remembering his goal. Surely if he heralded in the true golden age, he would be redeemed. He approached the fallen sarcophagus, its lid lying silently on the ground beside it.

He prepared himself to gaze upon an abomination and looked inside of the stone coffin. What was inside was not what he expected. What was inside terrified him more than anything else on earth ever could. After many minutes of staring, he carefully gathered up the contents in a large burlap sack, painfully hefted them over his good shoulder, and ran back towards the tan nataz. For hours he hid in a darkened alley with his prize. It seemed like an eternity. Finally, he saw the sun rise directly above him, and he knew it was time.

The priests would not be suspicious at first, for Asser was already present at the displaying of the heart. His plan to retrieve the heart had been subtle and complex, but for all those hours of waiting, rage had festered inside his heart. He would not draw it out one second more than was necessary. It was then that he heard a loud crack and knew that the doors of the great crypt had been unsealed. He threw his burden over his right shoulder once more and marched.

toward the crypt. As he reached the doors, he saw that a priest was pulling each of the doors open. One of them smiled as they saw Aser, for they had seen him every new moon for years. His smile faded as he saw the bag draped over his shoulder. As Aser reached the doors, he shoved the left door as hard as he could. The door struck the priest, and he fell onto his back, clutching his face. When the priest on the right protested, Aser swung around, one end, end of the heavy sack on his shoulder, striking the man in the face and sending him to the ground as well. The ceiling of the crypt towered high above him, the sunlight filtering in through a hundred small windows. He strode through the towering statues surrounding him toward the great

altar in the center of the room. Two priests were present, one on each side of the altar. Upon hearing the noise at the entrance they had drawn their blades, Aser let the bag he carried fall to the floor with a sickening noise of dead flesh. The priest charged at him, but Aser was ready this time. He knew their aim would be poor, and that they had no strength to their blows. He grabbed the wrist of the first to reach him and wrenched it until the blade dropped with his grasp. He placed a hand on the man's chest and shoved him into the second priest.

They fell to the floor screaming. Aser saw red and knew that the second man's blade must have cut one or both of them. He didn't care. Asser stepped around the two men on the floor and made his way to the great altar in the center of the room. The light from the windows above made the golden altar shine brilliantly, but what Aser wanted was the lump of dull flesh sitting on top of it. A shudder ran through him as he picked the heart up off the altar.

The beating was slow and faint, but there nonetheless. Aser closed his eyes and began to silently mouth the prayer. Before he could finish it, a hand roughly grabbed his wounded shoulder from behind. His arm exploded in pain as he was spun around. Opening his eyes, he saw a large man clad in leather armor towering above him. The dull leather was emblazoned with the symbol of the black sun. Asa had little time to react as a heavy fist struck him in the face and everything faded to black. Aser awoke in a room the likes of which he had never seen before.

He had been seated in a heavy wooden chair. He did not seem to be bound in any way. In front of him stood a tall central stand containing a dimly burning torch. The light cut through the darkness around him, casting strange shadows on the walls. This was unsettling, as Aser could see nothing between the torch and the walls that could be casting the shadows. The walls were covered in paintings that may have looked normal in the light, But underneath the dim light and shadows, there was not one of them that did not look demonic. Graceful figures became twisted and scarred.

Beneath him on the floor was a carpet made from the hides of animals he did not recognize. Several seconds after he awoke, he heard a door open behind him. Soft footsteps approached his back, and he heard a low voice. I presumed that my personal study might give us a bit more privacy than the same. in the dungeon." The voice said. A tall man clad in the same branded armor walked in front of him. He turned and stood directly between Aser and the torch. His figure silhouetted against the dim light at his back. Asser could make out nothing about his face except for a pair of flashing blue eyes that stared back at him.

Allow me to introduce myself, said the strange man. I am Sukhaz, head of the guardians of the priesthood. You won't have heard. heard of us, of course. We take care to make sure of that. We find it makes our job easier. As Aser's head fully cleared, the rage returned, stronger than before. What have you done? Aser said in a low growl, I have done nothing, said Sukhas. You, on the other hand, have committed several acts of murder, put the people of the city into a panic and almost ruined many years of hard work. You know what I mean? said Aser.

What was that? The rage was evident in his voice. He saw a flash of white as Sukhas grinned at him. Ah, you mean what was in the sarcophagus, but you don't need me to tell you that. You knew the moment you saw it, whether you want to believe it or not. Aser thought back to the hours before, when he gazed into the great stone coffin. There was a corpse inside, but it was no demon. It was the body of a woman.

She was tall, beautiful, and regal. He had seen the skin of the body shine faintly, bathing the inside of the sarcophagus with light. Asser said his next word slowly and deliberately, rage permeating every syllable. You slaughter to God! Yes, repeatedly, said Sukhas. Aser leapt from the chair he was seated in, his hands going for Sukaz's throat. As soon as he had risen, the man's fist crows.

crashed directly into his jaw. He fell back onto the chair painfully, tasting blood and feeling that two teeth were missing from the right side of his jaw. Do not think you can kill me as easily as a few pampered high priests. Luck has been on your side this far. It will not be again. Asard drew himself back up in the chair, but remained seated. He glared back at the man in front of him, tears beginning to well up in his eyes.

in the name of all that is holy can you do such a thing?" asked Asser, his voice nearly breaking. To be fair, said Sukhas, with a maddening tone of superiority. I have never killed her myself. You can credit your illustrious priesthood with that. As for why, they do it because of the one thing that drives all men. And that is? Fear, said Sukhaz.

Five years ago, the high priest began to do that. to descend into a state of arrogance and decadence. They began to amass power, created the guardians, and robbed the city blind. And then she appeared. The very goddess these priests claimed to work on behalf of, and on that day, those men that once thought themselves righteous feared judgment more than any. Succas laughed softly. I'm not sure who struck the blow, but before she could say one word to them, a priest drew his blade and impaled her through the heart. Then they saw the blood withdraw and the wound

began to heal. They had been afraid of judgment for their pride. Now they were petrified of judgment for the murder of a deity. And so the cycle began. Five years? said Asser. Five years? How many times has it been? How many corpses have been thrown into the pit? Why do they let this continue? He was sure that someone outside would hear his screams, but Sukhas just stood there and let him continue. When he finally stopped, the man laughed. Your people are cowards, said Sukhas. They cannot face what they see in front of them. Their city could be burning around them and they would not notice. The city is burning! Screamed Sukhas. And you know it! How do you let this happen day in and day out?

Because the world may be better off with it gone. The oasis city is dead and rotting. It must be cut off like a gangrenous limb. The man's tone changed as he said those words. His voice echoed from the walls around them. Aser's rage began to dim. Fear began to replace it. Who are you? Aser asked.

His voice lowered to a whisper. Sukhas crossed his arms and looked up toward the ceiling, as if trying to find the correct words to say. After a few seconds, he circled the torch in the center of the room, until he came to a stop on the side opposite Asser. Turning towards Aser, he could see Sukhas' face at last. It seemed completely normal, with short dark hair and a thin pointed beard. Then Aser saw the shadow being cast behind him. Though Sukhas was only slightly taller than Aser, the shadow loomed high above them both. The shadow's head appeared to have several horns

jutting off of it at odd angles. Massive wings were. stretched to its sides, covering the entire wall with darkness. Sukhas saw Aser's eyes go wide. He grinned and circled back around to the front of the torch. I am someone who is very much above the people of this city. You're the demon, the demon of legend. Sukhaz chuckled, the sound ringing off the walls. Demon, no, said Sukhaz, shaking his head.

I prefer to see myself as more of an angel. One with a very specific purpose. Destruction? said Aser. Change, said Sukhas. Nothing lasts forever in this world. To try to do so is folly. He moved closer to Aser, who cowered in his seat. All men die. All cities fall to ruin, and all empires crumble. It is the natural order of things.

Your city, your goddess, and your people try to work against nature itself. It wasn't all the priest, was it? asked Asser, finding some small semblance of courage. That depends, said Sukhas, the tone of superiority coming back into his voice. I may have started their decline into corruption, I may have caused them to doubt their beliefs, and I may have implanted their fear of their goddess, but I did not draw that blade, and I have not touched her.

You won't get away with this, said Aser. His voice finally confident once again. I won't let you do this. The goddess will live again. Succas tilted his head to one side and looked silently at Aser, a questioning look in his eyes. Very well. You are free to go. Aser's jaw dropped and a dumbfounded look came on to his face.

Really? You're not going to imprison me? Kill me? Would you like me to? Asked Succaus. Aser stared back silently. No, my friend, it is not my place to kill you. My purpose is to bring ruin. Perhaps yours is to bring ruin to me. Who am I to interfere with the machinations of fate? Go. Still staring at the man in

front of him, Aser slowly got up from the chair. With a great deal of fear, he turned his back on the man and started toward the door behind him. However, you may not want to go through with this. Asser stopped in his tracks, two steps from the door. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He did not want to listen to what the demon had to say, but something made him turn around. What do you mean by that? Asked Aser. Sucas had moved back around to the other side of the torch in the center of the room.

The massive shadow was invisible once again on the far wall. Stealing himself, Aser walked to the torch, glaring at Succas from directly across. I just mean that should you follow this course of action, the results may be much worse than you anticipate. What might seem like the right thing to do may be anything but. To not try to fool me, said Asser, you cannot see the future? Perhaps not. But I have watched this world for far longer than you can imagine, and I have become quite adept at guessing the outcome of things. Would you like to see what the future

has in store. For the first time since he began his quest, doubt began to slip into Aser's mind. He tried to remind himself that was exactly what the demon was trying to do, but that slight twinge of doubt began to grow. Aser found himself unable to resist. All right, demon, said Aser. What can you tell me of my quest? Succas grinned more broadly than ever as the words left Aser's lips.

I prefer to show you. The man waved a hand over the torch in the center of the room, and it was extinguished. Fear gripped Aser as the darkness enveloped him. Then, from above him, a light appeared. He looked up and saw that it was the moon high overhead. Looking back to the floor, he saw a forest laid out before him. He heard Sukhas clearing his throat behind him and spun around. Aser found himself on the top of a high ridge, looking down on Zatannitas from miles away.

Zuccaz stood on the very precipice. What will happen when the goddess lives again? Asked Succas. Is it not possible that her wrath will be great? With that, a brilliant light appeared in the sky above the city. A massive glowing orb hung ominously over Zatan Nitas. Is it not possible that the city will pay the price? The orb descended in a split second, striking the center of the city.

A flash of light struck Aser's eyes, and he had to cover them. Moments later, he felt a shockwave wash over him. Uncovering his eyes, he saw that a dozen more of the orbs had appeared above the city and were beginning to descend. Forcing himself to look into the light, he saw blast after blast tear the city apart. Houses were thrown high into the air. The great statues were blown to dust. He saw the tower of the moon shatter and fall.

But why stop there? Will her wrath not be great enough to punish the world of men as a whole? The entire sky was suddenly alight with the massive orbs. They began to move outward, traveling toward the far eastern cities and the coastal cities of the north. Would you watch the world burn just for your hope? The great orb nearest to them in the sky began to descend directly towards Aser. In seconds, the light had engulfed him and he could see nothing. Aser staled himself, closing his eyes, and tried to ignore the vision.

before him. That will not happen, said Asser. Our goddess is merciful and just. She would never punish those who have not wronged her. His voice was confident, but in his mind the seed of doubt began to grow larger. After a moment, Sukhaz spoke again through the light. Perhaps, he said. So let us assume you are right and that your goddess is not the wrathful sort.

Let us assume that your beloved golden age does indeed come after my demise. The light around Aser dimmed and began to flicker. He slowly opened his eyes and looked around him. He was in the battered husk of a city. Tall wooden houses burned around him. The air was heavy with smoke. Ash lined the street. Sukhaz still stood in front of him on the broken street.

Where are we now? Asked Bassar. Sukhaz shrugged. One of the eastern cities, he said. Stead or Lissaria or Holm or one of the others I cannot remember." Sukhaz bent down and grabbed a handful of ash. As he spoke, he let it sift through his fingers and let it drift away in the searing wind.

Your golden age comes, but your city's pride does not disappear. It only grows. Sukhaz turned and began to walk up the road, stepping over burning debris. Aser hurried after him, he felt his feet sink into the hot ash. He could not help but wonder where all the people were. people were. Perhaps the vision was not complete. They begin to see themselves as superior to those around them, said Sukhas. They are ruled over by a living deity, and they feel that they have the divine right to rule

over these other pathetic cities. The armies of Zatan Natas march on them all and burn them to the ground. The two of them finally came to a great courtyard. Asr moved ahead of Sukkaz and saw that the paved area had been ripped apart, and the that great pits had been dug into the earth. Moving towards one, he saw that it was not a pit, but a mass grave. A hundred charred skeletons filled the pit to its very brim. He saw movement at the center of the courtyard, and his attention was torn away from the bodies. The smoke cleared, and he could see a banner flying proudly.

It was bloodied and torn, but the symbol of the black sun could still be seen emblazoned on it. What once inspired faith will now only instill fear," said Sukhas. Aser felt rage began to boil up inside him, but he could not tell what it was directed at. Was it at the men of this future? Suqaz, himself? No! screamed Asser. The people of Zatantas would never do this.

I have lived there my entire life and have never once doubted that they were good people. You still believe that after knowing what is trained. transpired there for five years? asked Sukhaz. Your naivety is amusing, if nothing else, I must say. Even if our leaders have fallen to corruption, the people will not? Said Asser, Sukhaz smirked and shook his head. So, once again, let us presume you are right. Your precious people are faultless and they spend their golden age doing wholesome, peaceful things.

Aser struggled to keep a calm facade in response to Suqa's mocking tone. Do you trust the people of the surrounding cities just as much? As he spoke the words, the city around them blurred and changed. The sound of flames died down and was replaced with another sound. Metal, striking metal. The men of the surrounding cities see your great wealth and power. And as always happens, they are filled with envy and fear. They will try to crush you. As the scene around him finally stopped shifting. Aser found him in Sukkaw. standing in the market quarter of Zatan Nataz, beneath one of the great fountains. The water ran red. Among them, soldiers fought madly. The guards of Zatan Nataz were outnumbered

and outmatched, but they struggled on, more falling each second. The soldiers attacking them had many different sigils on their armor. They will succeed, said Sukhas. He motioned for Aser to look behind him. Aser did so and saw the body of the goddess once again. Her heart was removed and the body had been decapitated. Aser fell to his knees seeing the streets of the Oasis City full of death. He closed his eyes and lowered his face into his hands. The noise around him fell silent.

He looked up and found himself in Sukhaz's study once again, the torch shining dimly from its stand. Aser felt his head spinning. Sukhas stood over him, arms crossed, awaiting a response. Aser met his gaze. glaring back into the bright blue eyes. He rose to his feet and took a deep breath. So, said Sukhas, what is your course of action now?

It was almost a minute before Asa replied, I believe in the goddess. I believe in the city of Zetan Nataz, and I believe in all people. I will see your downfall demon, no matter the cost. There was no trace of uncertainty in his voice. There was not even any rage. There was only a conviction that brought a look of shock to Sukaz's face. Asser shoved Sukhas away from him and went for the door.

Stop! said Sukaz. Aser sighed and waited, keeping his back to him. Going to kill me now? He asked. He heard Sukaz's footsteps approach his back. No, said Sukaz. I'm not going to be that kind.

Then what do you want? Asked Aser. He felt Sukkazer. his breath on the back of his neck. You have seen what could happen, whispered Succas, but now you must know what will happen. Aser remained silent. I gave you a chance, a chance to stop your fools crusade and live out your days in peace. The same way I gave your priests a chance to save themselves and repent, but they failed

to take it. And now so have you. I will not listen to more of your lies, demon. Then listen to the truth, said Succaus. his voice raising, you will go and tell the people of me and your high priest, and do you know what they will do? They will call you mad and heretic, and they will take you and lock you away in the tower of the moon in a tiny cell with one tiny window, and every new moon you will look out that window and wonder if it is finally the day that the high priest break the cycle and

release your precious goddess. And that day will never come. Aser, closed his eyes and focused his thoughts inward, ignoring Sukhas, whose voice rose with every word. You will watch your city travel the road to destruction. You will live out your life in that cell waiting for the day to come, and on your deathbed, you will finally know that that day will never come. Sukhaz grabbed Aser by the shoulder and spun him around, screaming directly into his face. Where will your faith be then? Sukhazh finally fell silent. Aser reached up and removed his hand from his shoulder, He looked back into the demon's eyes and smiled.

The same place it has always been, said Aser. Sukhas glared back and returned the smile. You think you will be rewarded in death as a martyr, said Sukhas. But you do not know the truth. She is not a goddess. She is Satan Nataz, the very soul of the Oasis City. With every day of slaying, the city decays brick by brick. When enough bodies have been cast into the pit, your precious city will collapse under the weight

of its own pride. You'll have no deity to put faith in." Aser remained silent for a moment. When he spoke again, Sukhas heard something change. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but it was there. I have learned something here today, Sukhas, said Aser. I thank you. I really do, because if Zatantanataz is only a city, then...

Then there is only one thing left to place my faith in. I believe in the people. And if this city does fall one day, the people will survive it, and you will know that you have failed. Where will your pride be then?" Suqaz said nothing, as Aser turned and left the room at last. Suqaz thought quietly for a moment, and then smirked. Good luck, man of faith, he said. You will need it.

The torch went out, and the room descended back into darkness. My guide stopped talking and began carving once again. I waited a minute for him to resume before speaking. Well? I asked. What happened then? He looked up at me and smiled. There are no records that still remain from that ancient city.

He said. I sighed and got up from the campfire. I grabbed a torch and stuck it into the fire. After lighting it, I walked toward the spring a short walk away from our camp. I kept talking as I walked away. So, do you think the place even existed? I asked. There are certain relics that have been found that supposedly come from the Oasis City.

I reached the spring, planted the torch into the earth beside me, and drank a handful of water. And there are some that say that deep, deep in the desert, on cold and moonless night. night, a strange man appears. I was about to turn back to the campfire when I saw something out of place beneath the water. A strange man with flashing blue eyes. I pulled the torch out of the earth and raised it higher, and they say that if you ask politely, he will tell you a tale. A large slab of stone lay at the bottom of the spring.

The tale of the last man of faith in the great, ancient, and forgotten. city of Zatan Nataz. On that stone slab beneath the clear waters, I could make out two symbols, a shining golden fron, and a large black sun. I turned back towards the campfire to call my guide over to sea, but when I looked back, I found that I was alone beneath the moonless night sky.