Savior

Today was a new day for cloaked figures of the Sunset city. An especially pleasant one, with a gentle breeze and a pulsating, vibrant sun. Carpets zoomed overhead, letting out their morning calls. Swarms of small, velvety fabric followed around little red cloaked children as they trilled and tripped over one another. A tall, white protector loomed above them, watching for any signs of potential danger; which was nothing, because the desert was completely safe for the offspring.

The children allowed their carpet friends to carry them up into the air before tiring and dropping them on the ground. One child tumbled away, straight into a garden of waving ribbons. They crumpled under its weight, but soon straightened back up and continued furling in the billowing wind.

A white cloak emerged from its home, warbling angrily. The protector slid down the sand with ease, and quickly scurried over to the baby. It dipped its head, chirping with apology, and scooped the child up with the energy from its robe. The red cloak squirmed with defiance, but to no avail.

After bringing the young one back to its friends, it gave them a ferocious lecture with loud bongs. It was almost as if everyone in the city was watching, and some of the older children snickered with soft tweets. Now quiet, the protector herded the babies into their nursery.

Tucking them into small baskets filled with soft carpets to keep them warm, the protector sat down nearby and waited for them to fall asleep. Almost as if they had been sung a lullaby, the red cloaks soon fell into hushed, sweet dreams.

The protector turned to look outside, staring up at the sky. Night was already starting to fall; the days had been getting shorter and shorter as winter approached, and though snow would not fall, the desert would grow cold during this time. It's duty was to protect the future of the Rythulians, and that was why it was given the title 'Protective'. As protective as it was, it wouldn't be able to keep the children warm without the proper amount of cloth, and for some reason the supply was getting smaller and smaller. It had to confront the council about this.

Standing up, it exited the room, headed towards the underground passage.

The activity in the city plaza had started to die down, and almost everyone had returned to their homes. Another protector spotted 'Protective' and chirped with concern, rushing towards it. This protector was titled 'Mother', and it too was bothered by the carpet shortage. Together they slid down the sand and into the darkness, which was lit only by the moonlight.

They passed by a white cloak, who was brushing its fabric up against the wall. Glyphs began to form on the stone, and the stone markers beside the walls stopped glowing and went dormant. The white cloak hurried away into the underground corridor, obviously agitated.

'Protective' and 'Mother' looked at each other: the information had been updated. They walked over and activated the markings, to which they lit up instantly. The glyphs on the walls lit up, showing what the white cloak had put up. It was also adorned with several hieroglyphic pictures.

After a moment of reading, 'Protective' recoiled, staggering backwards. 'Mother' hurried over and let it lean on its shoulder. This was horrible news. They had to talk to the council about this.

Without another warble, they scrambled into the underground hallway, following the tracks of the white cloak who had written the information.

The red cloak, who had angered the white cloak previously, woke with a start as something bright shot past the window. It turned its head, blinking with grogginess. It shouldn't have been awake at this time, and for that reason it was incredibly tired. But curiosity overcame that, and the child hopped out of its basket, waddling out of the nursery.

It was met by a sight it had never seen before. Bright specks of...things! Littered in the sky above! The little cloaked baby spun in a circle, head tilted up towards the sky. It fell over into the sand with a soft clunk, and was unable to get back up. Wiggling its feet with alarm, if managed to lift its head up. In the corner of its vision, something even brighter than the stars in the sky caught its eye. Something that was shooting through the night, leaving a stream of glyphs in its wake. The baby couldn't quite grasp it: something glowing that wasn't like others in the city!

Finally, it struggled to its feet, shaking the sand from its mask. It turned to stare at the mountain, which was the center of Rythulian life.

For the first time, it couldn't move at all. There was something different about the mountain...something that wasn't easily seen in the daylight. Something it had never seen in the mountain.

A giant light was shooting up into the air, enfolding the area around it in a harsh, white glow.

Suddenly, the glyph on its chest began to shine as well. The glyph that represented its life, the one that showed that this being existed, was reacting to the mountain.

It was like a call. Such a strong, overwhelming pull was never felt before in the red cloak.

It's legs gave out, and it collapsed on the ground. Pulling itself together, it crossed its legs and sat up straight. It continued to gaze at the peak of the mountain, chirping softly with awe.

Something rose over the light, temporarily blocking it, and disappeared into clouds. For a moment, it thought it heard a roar.

Then the light was shadowed out again; not by the thing that had been in the distance, but a ribbon-like creature, twitching and faltering as it flew over a building. The carpet let out a feeble warble, then dropped towards the ground.

The baby red cloak leapt to its feet, sprinting foreword as fast as it could. Kneeling down above the carpet, it chirped anxiously, wrapping its wings around the fallen creature.

The creature, with the addition of three ribbon tails, began to chirp back to health, swirling around the red cloak excitedly. It's middle tail was longer than the other two, and the creature itself was smaller than the other carpets the red cloak had seen during the day. This one was a baby.

The red cloak stood up, encouraging the little carpet to follow it. Maybe it would prefer its basket nest instead of the sand. The carpet graciously followed, circling around and around the helpful red cloak.

Entering the nursery, the child crept into its bed, followed by the carpet. The carpet chirped once more, then snuggled underneath the baby who had saved him and went quiet with sleep.

A word swam through the red cloaks mind for an instant: a word of meaning, a glyph that matched the one on its chest. The only word it ever understood until now, one that had significant value.

'Savior'.