With the sun sinking sleepily below the stretches of the horizon, the sky was smeared with a thick orange ink that radiated brightly from the furthest edges of the world you could see. Like a magnificent painting in work, more and more details, more and more colours were added by this mysterious but marvelous painter as time slowly crept along. The omnipotent artist continues; an emanating darkness from above begins to clash with the bright orange, splattered with sparkling stars like angels filling the painter's canvas, the sky was brought to life with illumination.
The desert below glowed with the warmth of the sun's rays, the sand below expressing a rich amaranth and fandango pink that continued on for miles out of sight in all directions. The forceful wind is unrelenting, forming flush waves across this vast panorama of endless hills and rises traversed throughout the desert. Preserved in its beauty by an absence of disturbance the wind fills your ears in this land deprived of life.
Amongst this ever-changing landscape lay the remnants of a sustained civilization, left in an eternal sleep, like a colossal beast of carved stone finally put to rest under a thick blanket of sand, the last of the sun warming its back. The wind wove its way through the ancient exposed fragments of epic structures long ruined with the passing of an entire culture. The wind danced through the timeworn architecture and the beast snored, peaceful in its endless slumber.
A figure is seen, perched upon a tall spire emerging from the sand, it stands tall, quiet. Waiting for seemingly nothing. A large concealing fabric of flowing maroon is wrapped around the body of the creature. Around the base it is stitched with golden patterns, decorating the creature and matching an auric scarf that trails out between the creatures cloak and its matching hood, covering all but two glowing hazel eyes that patiently peer out and survey the ocean of sand. It watches. Determined with its motives. Two perked ears twitch, desperately trying to hear through the wind.
Silence.
The creature lets out a long harmonious call that echos out into the sky, reaching out into the desert but quickly dispersed by the wind. It gazes longingly into the sky watching the setting sun, another day approaching its end. The creature lets out another lonesome howl, passionate but hopeless, as the call is once again gone unheard by the world.
Anxiety floods the creature. Is there anything to be waiting for? Am I the only one left? It churns with fear and dismay, a guttural feeling of despair filling the creatures body at the thought of an enduring life of solitude and a journey with no foreseeable goal. What is waiting here going to achieve? What if I am the only one left?
The disheartened creature drops to the sand below, taking one last hope-filled look out towards the desolate wind swept desert, it makes its way to a small covered ledge, concealed from the wind, shelter from the encroaching darkness.
The night was beginning to capture the sky, the world being wrapped in a dark shade like the cloak wrapped around the creature. However this cloak was simply a new canvas, it opened up a new painting, a new world for the artist to decorate. More wonders quickly filled this new canvas, planets of a plethora of colours, diamond, amethyst, rubies of space. Some with large orbiting rings of light that stretched across the corresponding planet's face. Contrasting the decorative planets and lighting the night sky are the sparkling stars, filling the darkness above. The warmth of the land is quickly sucked away by the night as the wind turns ice cold. Darkness covers the desert in its bitter embrace.
The creature curled up in its shelter, another lonely night spent staring up into the stars. It gazes into the vibrant night sky. The idle, phlegmatic movements of the stars and planets calming, helping the creature to, at least for a short time, forget its concern. As it stares up into the sky it allows its eyes to gain weight and begin to close as it drifts into a peaceful sleep, listening to the torrents of wind.
Only suddenly, a sound... One unnatural to the omnipresent howl of the wind, breaking the deafening silence. The creature sits upright, its ears perking up. A faint call migrates through the overpowering wind towards the hope filled creature. It closes its eyes and concentrates... that way.
It jumps to its feet, adrenaline rushing, it dashes into the darkness towards the echoing call away from the shelter of the structures, scarf whipping back violently as the creature pushes headlong into the wind. The calls continue faintly and the creature moves faster, forcing itself through the sand against the wind that blasts against the creatures cloak. But the sound is getting louder, it must be close, it must be close.
With each step the creature wades through the thick sand, each footfall becoming progressively difficult with the power of the wind and the unbalanced, loose sand. The creature persists, despite being slowed to a forced trudge into the unknown. The sound of hope driving the creature onwards into the pitch darkness.
It stumbles, it falls, forward into the icy sand. It tears itself up from the sand to regain its balance but the wind is merciless, pushing the creature back from its hope and laughing at its desperate attempts.
The calls begin to get fainter. The creature begins to howl out despairingly, pushing against the wind in vain just to be blown back further. It's hopeless. The calls begin to fade with the wind, another gust of wind shoves the creature off balance where it lays in the sand, panting and staring desperately into the darkness, exhausted; it curls up, all hope shattered, it stays still in the sand and waits for the sun.
Once again the painter is at work, the sun rises and color is restored to the world. Expelling the darkness and the cold with the warmth of the sun. The sky is washed with blue and a glowing yellow shining from the sun stretches across the reaches of the horizon. A sleeping colossus of stonework continues its everlasting lethargy, unaffected by the quarrels of the land and the wind persists to sweep over the desert, migrating the sand indefinitely.
And atop a pillar a figure is perched. A golden scarf trailing out to its side. Still and quiet it stands, tall and unflinching. Peering out towards the beauty of the sunrise, out into the endless emptiness of the desert.
Waiting..