A very long time from now a shepherd was pasturing his sheep as usual in the few grassy hills near the crumbling limestone wall, the final testament to a lost and forgotten civilization.

"The work of giants moldreth away", he muttered to himself while studying studying parched grass where his sheep found little nourishment.

He looked up at the dark clouds overhead, a swooning sea of gray in the purple twilight sky, pregnant with moisture but delivering no rain.

"What a strange world we live in where the master of shepherds does not care for his own".

A short, loud rumble of thunder peeled through the sky as it was decorated with bright forks of lightning before a few drops of rain fell to the ground. This was soon followed by a deluge of brackish water, which seared the dry grass and encrusted his sheep's fur with a thin coating of salt. The young shepherd boy looked up at the clouds in confused bewilderment, when a great voice issued forth:

"Thus the doubter reaps his just reward!"