Long before civilization had its first city. Long before the Loom was discovered. Long before the Academy, the Guilds, the Sovereignties, or the grand philosophies of Thread Theory had even been conceived, there was only the Surface.
A wild and untamed world of wind, storm, and solitude. And in that wildness… there was one man. No name. No title. Just a goat herder.
And on one particularly stormy night, that man would change the course of history.
Rumble!
The winds howled like hungry beasts, sweeping across the endless grasslands in booming waves.
Thunder cracked and rolled across the heavens, and flashes of jagged light split the sky with every passing breath.
The goats, bleating in terror, had to be dragged and pushed into a cave nestled between crooked rocks.
Soaked, shivering, but strangely calm, the herder sat by the mouth of the cave and stared up at the roiling black sky.
He liked storms.
They made everything else quiet.
Then… lightning flashed.
Boom!
