The History of the Habrigale (Needs a Better Name)

The true history of Australia, and the ancient history of the world. Read this book at your own risk, as discovering how joyous life once was may bring your grief.


2. Book One: Probably the Most Boring Book of them All / Chapter One: Which is Basically Just an Overload of New Information

Book One: Probably the Most Boring Book of them All


Because you have rebelled foolishly and needlessly against Justar Ayar and welcomed his sworn enemy, Lurear, into your midst, your protector must withdraw. In his wrath he shall consume the landscape, so that all Asootrayoolah will be almost entirely desert.


Chapter One: Which is Basically Just an Overload of New Information

Kaiyar Warragar lived in the middle of Asootrayoolah (which is today called Australia), off to the left a little in the city of Da’affoie. The foliage was lush here, and Kaiyar’s house was right under a waterfall. Outside the waterfall door was a beautiful rainforest, in which the chattering wildlife resided happily, swimming in the numerous pools of clear water, and eating from the many ripe fruit-bearing trees.

                But perhaps you are lost already. Australia, you may say, is nothing but desert in the middle. Well, you’d be right on one account, for it is certainly a wasteland today. But back then, before any European ever set foot on the country (not that it is their fault it is no longer lush) it was more similar to the Amazon than anything.

                The animals were not fierce in this part of Asootrayoolah, and Kaiyar knew most of them by name; they too knew his name, and would holler greetings to him as he passed. The animals each had their own strange language (most of which Kaiyar thought he would never bother to learn) but they took extreme care to learn the language of the humans so that they could communicate.

                On his way to school, Kaiyar was always careful to avoid the Carnivores’ caves. The dinosaurs did not usually attack without provocation, but one could never be too careful.

                Kaiyar took in the beautiful scenery, feasting his deep brown eyes, and sighed happily. This was a good country, he thought. Or at least this part of it was. He had never been outside of his city – the smallest city in Asootrayoolah – in his life.

                Kaiyar walked around the puddles of mud that were the same colour as his skin and smiled. He was a Habrigal Asootrayoolianar (the ‘ar’ being important, as it showed he was male, not female), but significantly lighter than the Habrigale in the hotter parts of the country. Yet he was much darker than the pale Asootrayooliane.

                But, as you are probably completely confused, I will move on. You should be able to work all such things out as the story progresses.

                Kaiyar suddenly broke through into a clearing, where he beheld the city of Da’affoie: the smallest city in all of Asootrayoolah (as I said). The skyscrapers were tall, the streets were wide and colourful, and the air smelled of spices and sweet perfumes. It did not sicken him, only cheered him and made him eager to go to school, which was very strange indeed.

                Today was a special day for Kaiyar, and – indeed – many other children his age. It was the first day back to school, and he was fourteen now. And everyone knew boys became men at fourteen, and were given jobs that would last them their whole lives. It was not very often that an Asootrayooliane was given a job that they did not like, or were not suited to. Even if they did not like it at first, they always came to love it.

                Kaiyar was not entirely sure what job he wished to be given, but he hoped it did not involve working too closely with people. He also hoped it did not involve working with Justar Ayar, the protector of their country (with the exception of a few villages given over to evil), as the man was said to be a just, powerful, and unforgiving man. His father had been chosen to be a herald, and was constantly having to remind the people of the man’s wishes, like an annoying police officer, and he was hugely unpopular.

                Kaiyar was equally unpopular, and hoped all would change today.

                ‘Armoo eenyoar arnit eenbayoocome arfuhoolooish,’ a passer-byer greeted him, and the boy (now a young man) smiled.

                ‘Eenund armoo eenyoeen arnit eenrahoobel argoonst Justar Ayar.’ He replied to the woman.

                Some-one had spoken to him! That was highly unusual indeed. Yes, today looked like it would be a great day.

                Thinking about it (and his peers said he thought far too much) the greeting and response, which was standard in all good parts of Asootrayoolah (so, that is, all parts but in the villages given to evil), was quite a strange one. ‘May you not become foolish, and (the reply here) may you not rebel against Justar Ayar.’ Then again, perhaps it was not so strange, as it was said that rebelling against their protector lead to certain death, as (as was said before) he was a just and unforgiving man.

                Kaiyar waded into the deep lake (in the middle of the city) until he had gone far enough to swim properly. He enjoyed swimming, and liked the strange feeling of his water lung filtering through water to extract oxygen and send it to his lungs. He liked it when he could feel his swim bladder filling with water to send him closer to the sea bed, and letting water out, up, up and through his mouth in small, unobvious bubbles, to send him back up to the surface. When he swam he was a Wooterfighk, a person of the water. Anyone could become one, provided they were subject to the strange bacteria that caused such organs to grow. Lots of children were initially afraid of the changes, but they soon got over it. After all, swimming was far too exciting to reject.

                He couldn’t see the surface anymore, but he could see the warm light of the school. It was dry inside the classroom, thanks to… well, magic he supposed. The teachers made the students call it science, but (seeing as he was never smart enough to remember the reasons for anything) he preferred to call it magic. The older Asootrayooliane preferred to call it magic too, as did their protector, because it made him feel even more special than he really was.

                Kaiyar entered the dry school and took his seat at the very back of the classroom. He tried to hide as the other children (adults now, just like him) passed. Some of them spotted him, and whacked him firmly over the head. Others stuck to name-calling, and a very small number took pity on him and smiled sadly. But they never stood up for him, so they were simply worse in Kaiyar’s opinion.

                ‘Everybody sit down and stop hitting Kaiyar.’ The teacher said, without even looking up from his book. This, Kaiyar thought, would be the last time the teacher would be able to say that. Unless he became a teacher too, and his students began picking on him…

                Kaiyar shuddered at the thought.

The teacher looked up, and the students finally obeyed. Then, after sighing (with a certain amount of relief at this being his last day with such a troublesome class), he opened a large book and began eyeing his pupils thoughtfully. Then, slowly, he began reading out names.

And skipped Kaiyar’s entirely.







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