So, this is something I wrote a while back, but I wanted to share with you guys. It’s just a small snippet. Enjoy.

My people believe the legends are what make up our history. We have hundreds, brought down from generation to generation. Told by the light of the fire. The elders take great pride in these legends. They are what make up our history.

I’ve heard many legends about the world outside our village. It’s dangerous and not inhabitable. It’s hot and dry. The mountains are to steep, to high to pass over. It’s rumored there are oceans beyond the mountains if you get that far. They say people who embark on the journey to pass through it don’t come back. Where they go I don’t know.

But something about these lands call to me. The mountains in the distance. The forests surrounding them. They call to me. A voice inside my head begs me to go. It pulled me towards them.

Finally, a decided to follow the pull. I had to go. The pull was to strong.

No one told me the legends were all a lie.