Far from the Great Library, the Kallistrian skyline a soft golden line on the horizon, the waves crashed quietly upon the ebony sands of Lake Haali. Along this beach is a small village; unlike the shining cities of Librarian glory this village was not so carefully calculated, so carefully cultivated, not so predictable. Here the people let the will of Gaia guide their paths and gardens, here they built not in circled squared triangles but in flowing spirals and organic structures. Here they remembered old ways, why to smoke the sacred herbs, the true purpose of meditation and the true heart of history. Their stories were as altered by centuries as any other culture yet remained the most true to spirit. This village of what the Librarians deemed "Unclean" was a true melting pot, all the people of mixed descents. Here people knew that love and family were the real reasons for having children, not to "advance perfection" as the Librarians said. In this village of old ways and new peoples an old man sat by a fire telling stories of ancient nights, his long grey dreadlocks waggled with his gesticulations.
"Long ago in the age before man knew Gaia, before Ta revealed to us his heart and before the Hermetica was first of thrice-born. The People lived on the islands in those days we were carefree for we were without fear of death, we were as one with the waves, living and dieing with the tides. The People would feast and rejoice for in these early days Gaia provided much bounty for her skin was youthful and vibrant. We did not distinguish ourselves from her. For the People and Gaia were as one. Then one day a strange vessel from across the waves and great vastness of the ocean came to Khem. With them was brought weapons for killing people instead of for spearing fish or cracking eggs. With them was brought cruelty and imbalance. With them were brought great nets to capture the People like fish. The People at first didn't know to fight back against these hard and strange men, many were caught. Many fought and died. Much blood was shed and Gaia wept and her fiery tears drove away the strange men. We stayed and cried with Gaia while our brothers were broken by foreign cruelty, while they were made to be slaves, made to become soldiers. For even then the People were most strong. Some among our brothers kept the knowledge of home alive across generations until they had the opportunity to turn on their captors with their new skills in war. They came home changed and separated. They couldn't feel the song of the waves in their hearts which they had fought for, their faces fell to the sand and wept. We who were done weeping took in these children of separation and they became part of the People once more."
Taking a sip of his Pashk he paused a moment looking at the tears on the crowds faces. Malooau knew these stories by heart but knew he had to keep telling them for the old People were nearly gone and the spirit needed to pass forward. He began again, "I say unto you now knowing the story of our Da' Kavo brothers, show them mercy for they did not choose their path. I also say this story as a warning, there have been many foreign ships in the harbor and I fear a new net may be coming for us O children of Gaia! Beware these foreign ways as they come. Live like the people of old but do not be caught like fish. If they come with nets turn their spears on them! Remind the Da' Kavo of their true hearts, sing into their hearts the song of the waves! Let us sing freedom and feast for tomorrow may already be too late." and then he began the low droning of the Mariners Chant and the whole of the village took it up with him, humming and singing ancient words whose meanings were lost to the sands of time.
