Daraq

Fire fell from the clear sky without warning, raining down on the cities of light, destroying them in clouds of smoke that blotted out the sun, consuming even the stones. No one survived. Young and old alike perished in that terrible day. It was over in a moment, but the black smoke rolled up to heaven for many days to become a shroud to cover the sky. On that day, our bright homeland became the blighted lands, a desert where no living thing could ever survive. A dark epoch followed. Sickness became our constant companion: our men grew old too quickly and died suddenly; those of our women who were not barren gave birth to dead babies or produced monsters from their diseased wombs; our flesh withered while still young; little children lost teeth and hair, they vomited blood. Our proud ancestors became a nation afflicted with sores and running wounds. All that we knew passed away; all that we loved died. The treasures of our great civilization fell into dust. We lost the knowledge we had worked so hard to discover we lost everything to the dark time...