It is said that every oasis is a dead god. Their decaying bodies so full of life, that it seeps out and brings life to even the most inhabitable corners of the world.

Some even say that the world itself is the body of an incomprehensibly large creature of old, giving birth to us.

And then there are demigods. Born for a purpose, or emerged by themselves to seek it. They are bound by duty either way. Either becoming terrible horrors, seeking to escape themselves or benevolent muses, seeking to help others escape.

My mother says that mortals are in many ways better off than Gods. Free to choose their own path, free of the responsibility of fate.
It is said that I am special, that I walk the line between, forming a bridge to protect the land, protect the oasis.
But I do not understand, how to protect something that can not be taken?
How to take something that can not be owned?

In time, mother says, I will come to understand. She says she hopes that day will be many Summers away.

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