Cities and Memory 6

When you arrive in Ilia, you first will notice that the city is not on the ground. The place where it should be is a crater, once made solely of dirt but is now comprised of grass and fruits and insects. A few steam vents dot the ground, blowing warm-but not boiling-steam from the ground. This may have cause Ilia to leave the surface, or maybe it simply grew tired of the ground and disconnected from its roots in order to reside where it does in the clouds.

The people of Ilia have forgotten about the surface and the people of the surface have forgotten about Ilia. They have lived this way for many centuries.
The bazaar of Ilia is always buzzing with activity in the day. The shopkeeper always chatters about a new item to any potential buyers, but has not had anyone buy from him in years. No one remembers why his items are useful and no one has their uses for them. The fortune teller has not had a customer in ages. No one bothers for a fortune. The chef of the only restaurant in the city takes her time in preparing meals-so long that no one remembers what they ordered in the first place and content themselves with whatever she brings.

If you ask an inhabitant of Ilia why they do not venture out at night, they will either have a peculiar answer, or they will have no answer at all, but regardless of their explanation, no one will venture out of their homes at night. They return to their duties or lack there of in the morning, when dawn peaks through their window to tell them it is time to awake.

For however long it has been in the sky, the city sleeps in peace at night and sleeps during the day; far from its former place in the ground, new grass has poked through, unaware of the city's former existence. Perhaps Ilia is best left forgotten in the clouds where no one will disturb its peace and its peace will disturb no one.