Paruhatpa

From the sea of Edius, where the shore is salt and without fresh water, one marches inland for five days through stony ground. On the sixth day the land grows level, and for three days more the march is across bare sand. There is no water here, save what is carried in skins, and the heat of the sun is fierce. On the tenth day one reaches the wells of Akme, a small village, where barley and dates may be had. From there, traveling eastward four days’ march, the land is without shade, and men must carry reeds to mark their path against the shifting sands.

On the fifteenth day one comes to the oasis called Nerikefu. It lies in a high plateau, with palms and a spring that runs even in summer. Here are the ruins of Paruhatpa. The circuit of the walls is not less than thirty stades; the stones are great, some ten cubits long, so that men marvel how they were set in place. Towers stand though broken, and the streets may still be traced.

It is said the builders were the Rusati a lost nation of the Alvi . They dwelt long in this place, though they were not strong in body. Daughters were born to them in plenty, but a son only once in a hundred years. That son was made Pharaoh, and under his rule the city prospered.

From all directions men came to dwell there, some from twenty days’ march to the north, others from thirty days’ march by the western sea. These were set to labor, while the Rusati studied knowledge. Thus the city rose, its towers as high as twenty cubits, its gardens watered by channels from the spring. But in time the men became many, and they sought to rule. Certain of them consorted with the gods of Djeti, who are said to have been half men and half serpents. From these they learned arts that brought corruption. The Rusati forbade them, but they did not obey.

When the city could not be saved, the Rusati departed. Some went three days’ march south into hidden oases, others seven days’ march north toward the stony ridges, and there they live apart to this day, if the stories are true. The men remained, but the city declined and was abandoned.

Now those who pass through the desert report that Paruhatpa is empty. Yet in the night they say voices are heard in the broken halls, and the wind sounds like lamentation. Some hold that the Rusati yet guard their wisdom in secret, and that when the desert blooms again, they will return to raise the city.