The sun had only just figured out how to rise properly when the first humans—not quite humans yet, more like upright dreamers—blinked against the light and wondered what to do with their arms. There were about six of them, give or take a few who wandered off to chase shadows or follow the scent of ripe figs that drifted on the morning breeze. They lived somewhere between two rivers that didn’t have names yet, in a land so green it looked like the earth had been painted fresh that morning and the paint was still wet.
