They say we prospered once.

There are stories of tall buildings that kissed the clouds, of mechanical carriages that sped across paths as fast as dragons fly, and of a mystical library that held all the knowledge of the world, which each person carried with them. Fantastic things which can only be imagined in our times. Yet, we are told that none of this was through magic, that magic was considered fable and fairy tale in that age. The Cataclysm changed everything. We pass the memory of its destruction, and gifts, down from one generation to the next, lest it and the so many lives that perished during it, be forgotten. It was sudden and came without warning. Some believe it came because we abused our planet, that she fought back. Others claim that it was long foretold and inevitable. Some whisper that it was the gods returning to our lands, but those whispers are scoffed at. Where are our gods? They have left us all in the skeletal remains of a once great society. Our cries go ever unheard, echoing in the husks of the rubble that remains.

Those of us that survived have been rebuilding. It was slow, painful, at first. Many had evolved in the Cataclysm. Our elders tell us that we were all First Ones once, but those that survived the horrific event physically changed, their bodies warping into new forms, into the different Awakened that we all are today. Everyone was terrified and they fought or fled in desperation. Worse, was that they had all manifested new powers that none yet understood, the Aether now suddenly flowing freely through them. Beasts appeared and they prowled the realms, and during the first wave of the event Relic Sites rose, crumbling already from age at that time, erupting from the earth herself. Those first days are unimaginable, but it has been a hundred years since the Cataclysm and we have become stronger. We are one people now and we are learning, rebuilding in our new image.