In time the world was laid waste. What once was remembered was lost to struggle; to survival. The stories of our past became flickering gestures of our future behind the tongues of our makers.
No one remembered the time before, though tales were told of a land once lush with life. The grass was green, the sky was blue, but now colors were only figments of memory.
For too long have the Others governed us. They came from the dunes with their machinery and the past stunk on them like sewage from our pot holes. We knew them for what they were for our history spoke of those who gave to us the inheritance of this life. While all other humankind suffered the destruction of our world they hid like cravens in the dune mounds and populated the underworld with their kind while our women became as barren as the Earth.
They came generations ago out of the Dunes. They set their camps upon our free land and once again began to build the life of those before. They were the Other kind, not our kind, as we can no longer be called Human. And they brought with them the Life Givers, fertile women. They sheltered them beyond the white walls and sold their seeds to us for an Alligence....
... and we took them, the gold children, the seeds of the Life Givers. We could have no shame for what we were.
We were unified in our battles against the Zealots. Those who wished to purify the world by damning us all to hell. But they were stronger than our kind and they carried with them the gift of Medicine. For far too long did we have to sacrifice the life of one of our own for another. We had an equal goal with the Others; for the Zealots wished to steal the Life Givers, calling them Eve. They were their salvation, their gateway to Heaven. And they would kill them all.
What is known now is that the free lands are ours. The Other kind lives behind the white walls of their past. They had lost within themselves a Life Giver to the Damned and Broken. And we travel the yellow grasses, the desert, in search for her. In search for hope.
We only know the myths of the Damned and Broken. They do not stay in one place nor another place. Some call them a Circus, as this name was passed down from the history of the Others. But we know them for what they are... the diseased and the dying. But somewhere across this waste that they had left to us so many lives ago is our fertile ground. We seek, as all others seek, the one who the Zealots call Eve. She is our only hope to become free from the alligence to the Others; our only means of creating our own kind.
We are the Forgotten. The heirs to the Earth. The sons of Adam.
---- Some know this story as Eve and the Unknown Soldier, yes it is the same story. Just this is from a different perspective. ----