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Panic spread like wildfire. Collision was now imminent, they had been told. A massive ball of fire filling the skies, it drew nearer with each passing day, bringing with it almost certain death. First noticed by a child in the night sky, the people of Sceleria watched in horror as the unusually bright star grew larger, larger. The church did little to assuage the people. It was an omen, they said. The gods’ final judgement.
And so they waited in terror, not knowing just what lay ahead. Merchant ships from Bomboria reported unspeakable acts of sin on the mainland by panicked mobs. Monarchs were overthrown, villages were burning; murder and rape ran rampant. The star and the panic that accompanied it seemed to bring out nothing but the very worst of people. Thankful for their blessed seclusion from the mainland, the last few months were spent cowering on the island, away from the brutality.
Two days later, the star collided and everything changed.
Mothers clutched their babies to their breasts one last time as the people of the kingdom stood by the shore and waited to die.
The noise was deafening. Thousands of miles to the north, two celestial bodies struck each other with unprecedented force. Fire razed the land, killing everything it touched. Tremors from the impact caused massive earthquakes, leveling entire cities. From these earthquakes, massive tsunamis were formed. The waves sped without warning towards the island, and rose to unimaginable heights, towering highs above the tallest turrets of the castle. They paused, stoically, then crashed down furiously.
The castle toppled, swept away by the merciless waves. The ocean spilled over the island, toppling buildings like they were made of cards. Years of prosperity were ended cruelly by the wrath of the ocean; irreplaceable wisdom sunk beneath the sea. As the waves finally receded, little remained. There were few survivors. Food become scarce, shelter even more so. The life they struggled so desperately hard to hold onto was no life at all. A once prosperous, peaceful kingdom, they were reduced to a wandering tribe of barbaric nomads, stranded on a forgotten island with little hope of a better future.
On the mainlaind, life continued, albeit changed forever. From the ashes crawled an alien race, unlike anything ever imagined. They called themselves the bomies, and they became, begrudgingly, a functioning part of society. The cities were rebuilt, the kingdoms reformed, the damages undone. But Sceleria was slowly forgotten, a tragic casualty of the cursed disaster. Little more than a distant memory, it faded, lost to the ages.
Until now. |