The foundation of the story we're telling - past, present, and future.
Wherever you were from, however you grew up, whatever you did in your life - consider it all gone. That's what we've been thinking, at least, as we establish ourselves in civilizations built from the ground up. We're still trying to figure out why we're all here. What purpose does this blank slate serve?
All that we know is that Brin and Toriat make the rules, and we're all just here to do whatever it is they say. Build roads, make embassies... it's more than just survival at this point. It's how we expand, how we live, how we make enough food to survive winters that are much harsher than anywhere we came from.
Some of us remember. Some of us don't. Those that don't are often plagued by feelings of unreality, like their life isn't tethered to anything and they're just aimless souls trying to find purchase. There's muscle memory, of course - that at least seems to be intact. Smiths become smiths, farmers become farmers... or maybe not. Maybe they choose another route even if their hands remember exactly how to shape a tool from molten metal.
We all appeared here, most of us all at once - others trickling in bit by bit, searching for community and allyship in a world that we have to form ourselves.
You're pretty likely to be what some folk call Seraphs. Similar to a human in a lot of respects, but you're boasting some differences that run the gamut from physical to, quite frankly, supernatural in origin. Seraphs can look and act pretty different from one another, so it's a little hard to say what the common thread is. There's even been reports of Seraphs changing their physical forms over time.
One of the more obvious indicators that someone's a Seraph is that you're kind of hard to kill. It seems that only fatal blows at the hands of another Seraph do any lasting damage - meanwhile, death by beast, falling, starving, drowning, eating poison, staying out in the cold and all those sorts of things are a mere inconvenience.
Being killed by another Seraph comes with a host of downsides: loss of memory, changes of personality, mental duress, and - so we've heard - a transformation into a totally new Seraph, but only in the harshest circumstances.
Some Seraphs tend to retain pretty full, if indistinct, memories of another life. Others don't remember much of anything but certain skills, even if they've never tried them before. Then you get some folk who recognise others like they're old friends, and some who just don't remember anybody.
Some say they remember whatever cataclysm took this place down, but they're scant on the details. It appears to be a trend - they have all the broad strokes down, but when push comes to shove, not much beyond it. As a general rule of thumb, it's always the names and the relationships that go first.
Every season, the visible gods - are they gods? - of this world bring us together for a summit. We're given tasks to vote upon, rules to follow, and the potential for expansion. It feels collective, but some of us wonder what the point is. They don't tell us how to live, what to worship, or how to find respite in this world, but they're always watching.
Out in the midst of nowhere, a community of beings called the Summit Sages dwell in the ruins of a grand old building they call the Summit. They must have some sort of otherworldly power - or are borrowing some from a higher entity - because they have absolute control over this Summit and can make reality-shifting changes on a whim. They've not been very forthcoming with answers about who they are or why they are or even how they are.
Any Seraph who gathers their fellows and controls enough of the area directly around the Summit can claim authority over it and the Sages within. Whoever is in control can even renovate the place however they like.
Every so often, the Sages announce challenges on behalf of whatever entity lingers in the Summit. The groups who complete them best earn treasures, secrets, relics, and rewards of every type. The Sages' powers don't follow them outside of the Summit, and their responsibilities cannot be parted from them by death.
To win the summit, to hold one of the three Relics - that's true power. All we've been told is that whoever holds these strange artifacts holds more sway in this world. For some of us, this idea of power is tantalizing. Others prefer to look the other way and try to make the best of this life as it's been given to us.
Long after the world went quiet, five new beings emerged. They were the first to see what remained after the world ended and each nation fell, and they know more than they let on. They have held this world for a hundred years, keeping the land as best as a handful of scarred immortals can.
Then one day, the Quiet broke. And you arrived - the first new beings they've seen in a very long time. They wish to see what new age you'll bring.
The world you have found yourselves in is vast, the wilderness eating away at the final remnants of lost civilizations who once ruled the very lands you now walk. How could these have all fallen? How did the world end? This is for you to learn as you build your own settlements and uncover the secrets of the past, so that you might learn from history instead of being doomed to repeat it.
Whispers of a Wipe - a cataclysm, perhaps - are always on the wind. It makes us anxious. Our guts churn, our minds race. When this world ends, will we end with it? When all is said and done, will we remember what we have built? The allies that we have made, the friends we've found?
Will these wipes end in cruel cyclical existences for us, or will we be able to progress further?
Something destroyed all these civilisations last time, and we can't say for sure that it won't happen again. How? Nobody knows. Maybe a storm will blow in and render all these things we make to rubble. Maybe something will emerge from the Summit and send us all back to the stone age.
Is this purgatory? Is this Hell? Are we being punished? Are we being studied?