Prolouge
I was running.Running away from from everything I had ever known or loved. Running from my past and my home. My life and family. Friends and foes. The laughter and the screaming. I was running from it all. Cried and smoke filled the air as my tears were blown await join them. Rain pounded mercilessly against my body as if the sky was crying with me. There was the sound of metal clashing against shields and swords as arrows flew over my head.
I didn’t understand why this had happened. At the time, I was only seven. The soldiers had rounded up all the women and children and herded them into cattle cars to be taken away. Where to, though, remained a secret. No one who was taken away returned home.
’If only we had the mashines our ancestors used.They would help us. Goons and tahks could attack from far away while cares and booses carried the people away from the fighting. Bohms could take out half of the invaders without a problem.
But all of them were gone. The mashines had all been locked away in order to prevent a second Disappearance. Most of humanity had been obliterated by the World War and everyone that had had their own mashines to battle with. Until something had ended the war in one instant.
The survivors had started over. They came together in groups of twenty-six and built wooden homes, grew crops, hunted from what was left of the animals and survived in these villages. After a while, trade and merchants started traveling, bringing tales and news from village to village. They brought together the remnants of what the survivors remembered to create a history of sorts. A story of the Disappearance.
