The Reservation: Prologue.The Reservation:
Oamenia, great and small.
Oamenia: The name that means so little and yet means everything except its name. Surely, you’ve heard of great empires, both current and past who have risen and fallen with grace and prestige, but I’m sure you’ve never heard or have seen one quite like this one, or at least not when it was at its highest peak.
Isn't it strange how the world changes and yet people always seem to remain the same, so complacent and fragile? In my day, our country’s nationalism was built on the broken foundations of two dead empires (where the rats and the parasites now reside) but like strata a nation is only the sum of its layers; often too deep to decipher from just the first glance. The first empire was a complete mystery in my days, but perhaps the historians will remedy this, and the second was the one right before my days, before the days of peace and the time after of which I’m telling you my
The BirthI, my dear misbegotten daughters, and unfortunate sons.
Perhaps it is in vanity that I come to you after this long while to speak to you of the nature and reason for my absence. To explain to you the cause for my departure and the coldness of my ignorance. It is time for me to explain why I have not answered any of your prayers. Why I’ve spent what feels like eons in desolate emptiness and immeasurable distance from you.
When I came into the universe I was but a child myself. I was na´ve, lonely, and like the stars I was orphaned amongst the endless voids of darkness, whom were our only company. When I made you, you were but ashes and sediment between my fingers and a dream to fill my needless desires. Desire was one of the second gifts I gave to you as I held your bits and jagged clasts in my hand, but the first gift was life itself.
I squeezed my palms together and a hot molten shape was all you were. Then, I took a star from the sky and brought it close so that you were always