Direction

The more you think about the muddy plain, the more you despise it. You look out at the great expanse before you, limbs of what you assume to be men sinking slowly into its depths. As you watch its foul gluttony your anger grows and grows. You want it gone, you want it defeated, you want it burned away. You want nothing more than cracked earth where the mud once flowed. And lo before you a great flash of flame expands out to the horizon. Only scorched earth remains in its wake. Those trapped within it writhe in the sudden intense heat. When it is passed some move no more, but still others rise, pushing away the dry soil.

And then you see something else, something shimmering in the distance. It could be a mirage but something tells you otherwise.

What is that?