The world had been dead and cold for many years, the skeletal remnants of man's resting silent. The war had come and pass, and now, it was only the hardiest of creatures that could scrape out a living in the red expanse of untoilable dirt.<br/><br/>Stumbling from a dark tunnel, shielding her eyes from the harsh light and howling breeze, a lone woman walked on unsteady legs. Naked, blurry eye'd and hairless, she walked with the tentative gait of a newborn fowl. When finally her new eyes had adjusted and she dared to look out past her fingers, she saw an orange sky, dusty and windswept, while a great blanket of debri blotted out the sun.<br/><br/>She did not know who she was, or why her creators had put her in that dark place to outlive them, but she felt a sense of purpose. Looking down, she saw in the cracked dirt a single plant, waving in the wind. It was no longer then her finger, a green shoot. She knelt down on one uneasy knee and cupped it from the wind, letting it rise to it's full height.<br/><br/>The other hand that she rested on her knee came to her stomach, and she felt a small swell, and then a kick. She needed to make a home, somewhere safe, for this child. It would be important, she knew...<br/><br/><br/><strong>1 year later</strong><br/><br/><br/>Eve's hair had grown, a dark brown mop, almost black, falling to her shoulders in a messy tangle. She wore an apron of sack cloth, knelt down in the rich, wet soil, where she dug with her hands, pushing seeds into it with a finger. Other then the apron, she was naked, and her face bore a placid expression of concentration. Her short time alive had been near silent, and intensely lonely, but she had the patience of a saint, and she knew the silence would soon end. Somehow, she knew she would remain young, to help raise her granchildren, and her great grandchildren, and their children even... was she a Goddess?<br/><br/>She didn't know where that word came from... she just knew it. She thought on this often, but didn't like how the word felt. She didn't feel like a Goddess. She pushed the unfinished thought away, and began to recite the alphabet as she worked, attachment a new word to each letter, as she did every day, discovering more and more of the vocabulary her creators had given her.<br/><br/>"Air, bemused, children, doubt, economy, fire, guilt..."<br/><br/>A shrill cry came from the open shack she had built, nestled into the side of two leaning spires of rock, protecting her home and garden from the wind. She got up and brushed her hands off, then stepped inside and picked up her son, cradling him to her ample chest, shushing him and rocking gently. "Hush, insist, jest, kill, love..." She continued with the words, and cuddled him close. She couldn't wait for him to grow up.<br/><br/><br/><strong>17 years later</strong><br/><br/><br/>