imagine a place where it does not rain
here it does not rain
it never rains
dare you question why?
on a stone an old man sits
the old man sits
the elder sits
dressed in robes of grey
he sees you come and bows his head
he bows his head
he bows his head and says:
It used to rain here, long ago. You would not recognize that place compared to how it is today. The land was one of beauty; crops and flowers populated the fields while gorgeous
forests were scattered throughout. The colors were different from what they currently are - not the massive sea of orange with specks of green that they are now, but instead
an ocean of lush vegetation with every other color imaginable. Small woodland and plains creatures frolicked about, mindlessly going on with their happy lives. Few predators lived
in these parts, but those that did were never hungry. Little effort was needed to sustain the land, as the rains kept the land as if it were new. This place was paradise.
Like all havens, this place needed a force to sustain it. This force was the rain, and these rains were brought by a specific Wind. She was among the only winds that could brave
the Eastern Mountains, and the only wind to do so while being strong enough to bring the Rains with it. The People adored her practically to the point of worship - they sang songs
in her name and praised her every arrival. Her name was Nimorika, the Wind of Nimorika, and she would come every spring and water the crops, and then remain for the summer
with pleasant drizzles. The crops in those days prospered, and the land was as fertile as it could be. When the Wind would finally drift away, she would leave enough water in the
rivers and wells to last until she came again.
But then came the year that the Wind did not arrive...
To catch a wind, you must first define it...
However, none of these winds can compare to the Wind of Nimorika in the importance of their purpose, nor were their legends as thrilling. However, to understand the legend, one must understand all wind legends; the Greeks believed that winds were the Earth breathing in and out, while the residents of the Dreaming Land believed that they were moved by pixies. Though the Greeks may have been closer to the nature of most winds, the people of the Dreaming Land were not far from the truth for their treasured wind.
The Wind and the Bird
Winds are created by the warming and cooling of the atmosphere in seperate layers, thus causing movement. Although there is no true purpose in nature, they are known for moving moisture, thus generating most of the planet's weather. However, not all winds are random; some are famous and annual. Contrary to popular belief, there are actually many named winds in existence, many with their own unique legends and tales.
The most well-known of these are the trade winds, which are created by the Coriolis Effect (created by the spinning of the Earth) and were historically used to aid the ships travelling through the waters and selling to merchants. Although the trade winds are perhaps the most reliable, they are far from being the most astonishing.
Some of the named winds even have personalities, like the Shawondasee (lazy), Melteme (bad tempered), and Tebbad (feverish), while others have myths associated with them. For example, the Matacabras in Spain is known for killing the herders' goats while the Descuernacabras dehorns them and the Notus is well known for being the Southern Wind from Greek mythology. Many have the crucial role of bringing the rains, like the Kona of the Hawaiian islands and Eurus of the Greeks, while other characterize specific weather patterns (like the Haizebeltza which brings darkness). Their names come from different origins, some based on the Gods, others by what they bring, and even others based on their origin of notice (like the Whittle, which was named for upsetting Captain Whittle's coffin). Some, are specific, such as the Khamsin, a hot and dry wind that travels into Egypt from the Sahara for fifty days every spring.
Several of more the named winds include the following:
It was a good year. The other winds had brought the moisture as promised, and the rains had passed through the rainforests to the East, where the Wind of Nimorika worked. She drifted through the trees, playing with the dew on the moss-covered barks as she collected the vapor needed for her journey.
It was a pleasant existence, in her point of view. Granted, she had known no other, but she felt that she was more blessed than those that lived. After all, there was no pain in her world (only pleasure), no death, no boundaries... Political wars did not touch her, nor did the dread or necessities that plagued those of the physical realm. She was neither here nor there- she could think and feel and yet was not touched by time or eternity. There was no boredom, no sadness - only the joy of little things in life. Flowers, birds, and beauty were all she saw - life at its finest.
She knew nothing of why she took her annual journey; she hardly knew that time passed at all. Some unseen force told her where to travel and how long to stay, but it was not demanding, rather a quiet whisper. Here, there, anywhere... she traveled to and fro. Like all winds, her path had logic but not consistency, and yet she always managed to get where she had wanted to go.
The voice told her to climb the Mountains, and so she did. The Wind beat her butterfly wings (from which her wind came) as the faint light from her four antennae guided her way. She pushed and tugged at the moisture which she instinctually knew to bring, pushing it up the first of many peaks. She felt no pain or weariness, instead only seeing the pretty formations in rock and snow. This was the season of winter and snow, and for this season she always traveled the Mountains. The snow never fell the same way twice, as every snowflake was unique, so this journey was never quite the same. The first mountain was, like always, filled with small critters of the winter months; they greeted her with joy. She played with the bunnies and raced with a fox, tickled the bears and poked the ox. The stars twinkled and the Father Frost gleamed - just like the average winter this all seemed.
The second mountain was shorter than the first, but far steeper. There were no critters here to entertain, so instead the Wind bent the branches to and fro, watching them sway. Of the three, this was her least favorite mountain, but she enjoyed it all the same. As she drifted through the branches, listening to the music of their cracking, she suddenly stopped. Something was different this winter - something was simply out of place. She fluttered around in a circle, causing a stir that lifted the snow, as she sought out the oddity. Nothing, only snow. Again. Still snow. Again, but swifter, with strength that pulled at the roots of the trees... And there she found it.
Sheltered at the base of one of the largest rocks lay a bird - an insignificant being, but so far from home. It was but a child, unable to fly, and yet poor planning and bad luck had taken this unfortunate being and brought it to this place of dread. Whatever heart rested in the pixie's chest skipped a beat; she may have been an impish spirit wind, but she was still female. She could not let this poor creature die, not after how long it had already survived. So, ignoring the whispers of direction, she paused her journey. Beating her wings, she surrounded the bird-child with warmth and nutrition. There she remained for the season, warming the creature until the spring mountain winds came. Her duty had been forgotten, her moisture lost; she played with the bird until the seasons changed and her instinct sent her back to the rainforest.
On that Spring the Rains did not come. The crops suffered and thousands died, people prayed and magicians lied...
Know thy friends, but know thy enemies better...
The Year without Rain
Wind of Nimorika - a sudden and sharp squall which brings the rain to the Dreaming Land every spring.Name
the Wind of NimorikaKnown in Legend
the Bottled WindSpecies
Pixie Wind SpiritGender
Flowers (simple beauty, and yet nothing else can compare... and attract bees), Bees (produce honey, which is sweet and yummy), Avians (the only beings fit to rule the skies along with the Winds)Dislikes
Manmade Structures (interrupt paths that winds may take and ruin the natural landscape), Glass (shows you what is on the other side but forbids you from being there - the worst type of torture), Fake Sugar (simply not tasty at all)Lack of Care
Politics (so dull and boring and always fail to please), Death (a trivial thing - happens to everyone), Insects other than Bees (they merely drift about and are too feeble for notice)Responsibilies
Bringing the Rains past the Mountains to the Dreaming Land every year and taking moisture from the rainforest.Personality
The Pixie of the Wind is a fickle creature, easily distracted and often practically existing for the sake of being entertained. She is oblivious of many conscious attributes such as vanity and pain, and instead focuses only on the satisfactions of life. She cares not for complexities and instead has a rather simple mind; she cannot, for example, be able to to tell when she is being deceived. The Wind lacks understanding of complex emotion and chains of reaction, and instead exists in an ignorant form.Design
Although she lacks the stereotypical chest and long hair, the Pixie of the Wind is, in fact, female. She is, after all, not human and instead has attributes commonly present in natural animals. Her back is overcome with a dark marking, perhaps for hunting purposes (even though she lives off of dew and honey), and teal markings on her "hands" and "feet". Instead of hands and feet, she has oddly shaped paws, almost but not quite like their human counterparts. Although her base anatomy is human, she has enough animal influence that she cannot stand entirely straight. She has four glowing antennae (two on her head and two from the base of her wings) and four wings (often in the form of wind, but resemble those of a butterfly if trapped in a bottle). The antannae and tip of her tail glow faintly, lighting her way.
The People waited. They prayed, they danced, they begged, and they waited. The Wind did not come... the Rains did not come. They waited more, and still nothing.
The river fled. No wind forced the snow to the other side of the Mountain, so instead the runoff drifted to the other side. No rain countered this loss; nothing was able to fill the banks. So the waters, along with their fish and nutrition, left for the downstream ocean and upstream distant mountain lakes, refusing to remain in the dying region.
The wells dried. With no water to refill them and no seasonal river to come, there was nothing to stop the thirsty People from drinking every last drop of water. Nothing protected them from the summer heat, and no daily storm to keep the temperatures to rise to high. In essence, the water simply evaporated.
The crops dwindled. Without water to nourish them, they dried out in the blistering summer sun. The morning mist was not enough to quench their thirst, and so they gave up their will to live and let themselves become the ground. The sun took them with pleasure, burning the last remaining moisture from their stalks. Nothing was left but dry seedlings, uneatable and unusable.
The livestalk starved. Their food, the crops and grasses, was lacking, and so they had nothing but the last reserves of hay to eat. The entire region had begun to become sandy, so the nutrition was lacking. Everything was too dry for their needs, so they died of thirst as well. Few survived this year, but even those that did were not left unaltered.
The people suffered.
Why had the Gods of the Dreaming Land forsaken this place? Why had the Wind not come? Why were the Rains lacking? Such questions were brought to a mystic man, and so he answered...
Suffering is Life, but Life is not Suffering...
Everyday, I visit Gasha with a sliver of hope-- wishing with all my heart that the Wind is on the way with rain, but everyday, I hear just the opposite. My cattle are dropping like flies, and my family is dying of thirst. Why did the Wind leave us? Why hasn't she come? Did we not express our gratitude enough?
It all seems hopeless now that She's gone. She's left us desperate, choking, begging. And yet the Wind of Nimorika refuses to return. All we can do is wonder why she would leave us, and if she would ever return. The ground is shriveling, and with it our hope. We've waited tirelessly, day and night, for the moment when she would fulfill her yearly promise and come back, but she fails to show. Where are you, bringer of the rains?
I've sat each day and watched my crops, it is hopeless to continue though. My water supply is close to gone and even if it were full I'd never have enough to water it all. It is hard, to watch it die... the future of my family and my ability to provide for them is shriveling before my eyes... and all due to the absent rain. Whomever has kept the wind should be stricken from this earth for the pain
they have caused us.
I'm devastated. The rain hasn't come yet, and my dear flowers and my family's crops are ruined if the water continues to not come. I have no idea what to do.. theres not enough fresh water in the ponds for all the plants. We need the rain so badly :/ but it just won't come ! Are we being punished ? Have we done wrong ? We will surely perish without the rains..
The rains didn't come this year, without the rain, I can't run the watermill, what if the rains never come back? We all might perish!
The mystic man was Gasha (X)
, known for wonderous feats such as ressurection and various magic. Alas, he was not a kind man, and felt no sympathy for the people that came to him. He could have sung for the rains to come, or given life to the poor crops, but instead he hatched a villanous plan.
He told the People that the Wind no longer cared, and that she had decided to no longer bring the rains every spring. The People cried and pouted, but this had no effect. The mystic man informed them that most years to come would be years of Drought. Despite the People's pleas for help, he said that nothing could be done.
The People had no idea of the pure evil the mystic man had planned, no clue how much he lusted for power. Little did they know how bad things would become.
Gasha had a plan, one which would prove his dominance over Nature. He took pleasure in the suffering of the People, but continued to pretend to support them. This was, after all, the perfect opportunity for forces of Chaos to come to power, and Gasha was not the type to be interested in treasures or gold, instead focusing on watching chaos and destruction.
And so, legend has it, that Gasha, like the People, simply sat down and waited.
A leader must remember everything but regret nothing...
My name was not always Ziqil; once it was Lanzer. When I was known as Lanzer - when I was Lanzer, I mean - I remember the beauty of the land. I remember the glory of the Rains, and how the Wind always came. I was in politics back then, as the spiritual leader of the people. However, I left them in search of somebody who later betrayed me.
When I returned, in a different form and body, the rains had stopped. Chaos had taken over and only anarchy ruled the People. Little had I known how much the people had relied on the Rains, as I had always taken them for granted. It was terrible, seeing the devastation of the land I had once loved. I knew I had to fix things, but how? There was no more rain, no rivers, no water... I did what I had to, but it was not easy.
I miss the rain. Sometimes I remember it... and then forget my pain. Things were never quite the same...(X)
I do not understand those that wish to dominate nature. It seems pointless. We are, after all, made of the same elementary particles. Modern science may give them names, but these were irrelevant in my time. Yes, I knew the Dreaming Land when it was lush and green; I perished at some point, but not entirely. I am One with Everything now. I know things. Man (or Neopet) cannot dominate Nature; Nature will always win. Overcoming one challange and taming one force sets off a chain of reaction, and this chain, I guarentee you, is never positive. Antibiotics may have worked at first, but bacteria soon became immune; energy sources were discovered, but at what cost?
Nature always wins. The key to life and fulfillment is Balance, not Power. If one becomes One with Everything, they never die - no matter how much power one obtains, they will always be mortal. The only road to immortality is becoming Everything, not changing it.
Only fools try to overcome Nature, only fools think that they will win. Winning the battle does not guarentee a victory in the war, and an illusion of success is not always real... there are always consequences.(X)
The seasons changed once again, and the playful wind once again drifted out of the rainforest and to the Mountains. To her, the previous year had hardly occured - the bird she had
warmed had proceeded to live a normal avian life while the other winds had proceeded as always. She felt no difference, no reason for change or worry.
The Wind of Nimorika gathered the moisture as she always had and then pushed it up the first mountain. Father Frost patted her head as the bunnies raced to be with her and even
the trees seemed to welcome her presence. The snow was extraordinarily pretty this year, and the Wind of Nimorika had no difficulty with her journey. The second mountain passed
as always, with nothing to distract her this time around. She followed her usual path up this mountain, pausing momentarily at its peak to enjoy the Higher Winds. The path down
would have been dull for a normal wind, but for Nimorika it was as exciting as ever. After all, she never grew tired of her duty, instead doing so happily every time it came.
The third mountain was the shortest of the three, so short, in fact, that there was no snow. Here the wind played with other Critters, ones not pale due to lack of need. The air was
not yet warm enough to let the Wind descend, so instead she waited. The Wind did not notice how few animals there were to greet her, instead focusing on the ones that did.
They seemed happy to see her, overjoyed that this year the Rains would come... And so, like many others, the Wind waited for the perfect moment to descend the mountain.
They say he came at night, but this could never be confirmed. The Wind, as always, fluttered just beyond reach, a mere gentle breeze rather than the squall she would become.
She hardly noticed passing through him, hardly noticed the bottle he held. After all, she was a Wind, a spirit - though the subconsciousness of most animals could sense her
presence, men could rarely spot her.
Gasha grinned; the Wind did not notice. He tensed, she drifted. He lifted his hand, she circled it as always...
...and so it ended.
Imitation is flattery, or so I hear...
petlookup | owner
January 18, 2006Species
Adopted from Josey in April 2012Petpet
It took but a moment, but this moment changed everything.
With a whisk of his hand, the mystic man trapped the Wind in the bottle, her pixie form solidifying for the first time. As he plugged the openning with a cork, everything that had
held the Wind of Nimorika seperate from the physical world was severed in a brutal cut. Once, she had been a Wind - highly revered and praised by those she influenced, but no
longer... now she was just a pixie. Her mind, once neither here nor there, was now trapped to the physical and unable to become spiritual once more.
The Wind of Nimorika banged on the glass, but to no avail. Nobody was coming to save her; nobody would help her now. After all, her friends had consisted of spirits and
woodland animals, none of which would (or even could) come to her aid. It was over, all over, for the once wind. She screamed and pleaded in her feeble voice, the first sounds
that she had ever made, but the man (massive in comparison to her tiny size) seemed not to notice. No, he did, but he simply grinned. She could not understand why he had
done this - her simple mind could not understand that her capture had been a mere chapter in his most brutal tale.
The mystic man took her bottle and brought it to the village, where he held it for all of he People to see. They celebrated and cheered, overjoyed that the drought would not
last for much longer. Gasha, clever as he was, then sang the notes for rain to come, and the waters of Life surrouded them. There was no sorrow or pity for the Bottled Wind,
only the bliss of victory. To them, this meant that the rains would come evermore - that no droughts would ever follow. Everything would be good now, prosperous, with the
power of the Wind of Nimorika trapped inside of a bottle. Man had once again conquered Nature. All was well.
... or so they thought.
A picture is worth a thousand words... or is it the other way around?
(More will come eventually)
The seasons changed and a year passed. The mystic man had left them, promising that all would be well. Once again, the people waited for the rains, expecting them to come on time.
They did not. The sun shone as brightly as it always had with hardly a cloud in the sky. The morning drizzle and fog were the only sources of moisture, but this was hardly enough for the lifestyle the People had grown accustomed to. There was no rain... there would never be rain again. The Wind had been Bottled and the Bottle had been Lost... thus the rains never managed to cross the Mountains again.
To last forever is to be unforgotten...
the old man grins and turns away
he looks away
the elder turns
a smile on his face
the bottle's lost, he says to you
unable to be found
so the legend ends
with no rain evermore
man learned his lesson...
if only he had before.