Once. We had not been alone.

Our city had been one of many, one of thousands of glistening cities that drew the joy of the deities and spirits, every one of them. The towers, now steel bones and slides of stony flesh, had once been glittering spears of ice, rising out of the ground. The streets had been rivers of black rock, full of iron creatures which swallowed men safely and brought them in a roar of anger to their destinations, only to spit them back out again.

Every city, not just our own, was like this. And there were people of many tribes, many colors, blue and purple and brown and white. Every color ever known to be seen in the sky, that was how many tribes there were, and many colors in between. And they lived in the towers, and they walked the streets after dark, for the city protected them from the lions that prowl the boulders and the bears that sleep beneath the earth.

For the bears dared not sneak into the bowels of the earth, for huge steel dragons lurked there, howling mad in their stone prisons. They swallowed people whole, as their ancestors on the surface did, and brought them to their lairs, only to spit them up again. No bear would stand a chance against these beasts of the earth.

And no dragons, no rocs stole the people from the towers, for great guardian beasts roared and screamed across the sky, protecting the people of the cities, keeping the rocs and dragons far, far away.

And the cities talked to one another. If you listened closely, you could hear the next closest city, chattering and screaming and roaring with life. And our people, our tribes were happy with our cities.

Until one day, the Great Something happened.

One day, no other city could be heard. One day, a great light errupted across the city. The towers shattered, and the ice flung itself heedlessly to the ground. The great beasts of the sky were destroyed, leaving behind fiery wakes as they careened, out of control, and smashed into their masters. The great beasts of the earth were crushed beneath the weight of the ground, shaken to fall upon them as they expressed their supremecy.

Many died in those days. They still had the fixing machines and those who knew the knitting in those days. But many still died.

No one could fix the wrong that had happened. Too many other cities had died. We were alone.

But we were alive.

And we looked for a leader, as one person. We looked for a leader, and Tyler rose up and said "I know this sounds stupid."

He was a broken man, with a hunched back and scars and a limp. But he led us, he guided us, and he brought our city's childhood to an end.

And when he died, he promised to stay with us, to keep us, to keep our children. And when he died, he became the first to rise into the sky, to watch over us. Many others followed him, and all their deeds were many. But Tyler was the first.

Tale of Tyler; Lines of the Fallening