"Thousands of years ago, man was but an animal on the hunt. We were born to watch helpless as our children's lives were claimed by disease. We were forced to witness how our comrades were torn to pieces by wild beasts, while hunting for the day's food. Scarce resources, drought, famine were the war horns sounding as each tribe marched against another, on desperate attempts for a place under the sun. Mankind was cornered to extinction before we even settled on earth.
The Mother Continent proved too poor for her weak yet greedy infants. The stronger ones, the ones the Mother could afford, were allowed to mark their territories, the way wolves mark theirs. The weaker ones, the unwanted folk, were driven away. Aimlessly they wandered across the Mother's lands, hungry and exhausted. Hounded and stampeded by beasts, they reached the continent's exit, thought to be nonexistent. From there, mankind spread all over the world. Once again, the strongest would settle, define frontiers while driving the unwanted away. The unfortunate scattered East and West. Some attempted the North, only to be welcomed by the chilling embrace of death.
The brighter ones were unrest. Their eyes had experienced the newfound green, the abundant water, twin rivers, blooming hills. The brighter ones let those who weren't family settle first, but kept going. Those knew they'd find the perfect place to make their home. They were tired, but curious.
They mustered their strength, urged their own to pace themselves. They crossed steep mountains, wind beaten, inhospitable. They walked through sticky slobbery swamps, evaporating the stench of rotting flesh. The moment they were short on breath, the brighter ones, the most patient ones, lived through their last tormented dawn.
The Mother revealed Her cradle to those daring humans. A vast expanse lay on their feet. Golden- green plains substituted the crispy ground they walked before. Trees dwelt in groups, marking the outline of small forests, pastel flowers spread like a newly nettled tablecloth.
More important than food, shade and sunlight were the bodies of water. Instead of transient cisterns of rain water, they gazed upon a lake in the far south and instead of the swampy pits they vainly tried to drink and not die of, humans rested their weary eyes on a long river. The river was their savior. It had the color of olives and carried the soils of wealth within it.
Along the oily river they settled. Our ancestors populated the Golden-green plains, making them their home forevermore. Our forefathers tilled the fertile soil, our foremothers herded their livestock along the homely scenery. Boys manned up on the slopes of the Black Mountain and girls flowered, caressed by sea foam of the Eastern Coast, while all life kept flourishing.
But war's iron breath was fast upon the plains' people. Others envied their peace, the thriving population. They wished to rob them of their crops, they wished to disrupt their trade routes.
Distressed, the peaceful farmers sought assistance from the Gods. None shook from their thrones, except for the Lady of Crops and Outdoors. She assumed the form of a young woman, and appeared before the farmers in the deep darkness, accompanied by her companions, the horse and the dog. The people wept and begged before her.
The Lady was knowledgeable of their deeds. Birds sang of the land's respectful plowing. The wind whispered about their sweat, earnestly shed upon the soil, the waters carried the memories of the people's gratitude.
Her beacon lit, as she raised her right hand in the starless sky. The farmers knelt in awe and terror, for it was revealed that the Lady of Crops and Outdoors was also a Master of the Dead. There, in the dead of night, she put the people under her protection, under the oath to worship her as their main Goddess. The farmers gladly obeyed, as no other Protector was more befitting their lifestyle.
Their enemies vanished, joined the ranks of the underworld. The farmers erected the Menhir of the Warrior Woman, in gratitude of their Protector. They became skillful horse masters and insightful necromancers, they harnessed Nature's powers to become graceful Healers, all in the name of their Lady Matron.
Satisfied with their faith, the Matron offered her final piece of guidance. On the longest night of winter, she showed herself one last time to her faithful worshipers. As she has done before, she raised her right hand to the pitch black sky, but instead of her flame, strange lights descended. There, on her palm, seven gems rested, glistening while channeling the will of the Gods. The Matron offered the Gems to the wisest among them. For a second time, they gladly took an oath to follow her guidance and work under her will.
The Goddess taught the wise of how the Gems were forged by the Titan of the Awoken Spirit, Prometheus and offered them to those who wished to maintain Balance in the World. Thus, the sworn wise men and women were named Servants of Prometheus.
The Goddess ascended to her throne, leaving her enlightened acolytes to guide their folk towards progress, through the practice of the Knowledge they received.
After that incident, the Commonwealth of the Great Plains was founded. It grew and grew, reaching the size and power it finds itself to this day. Blessings are still upon us, as our crops are still abundant, as our tradesmen are welcomed all over the world. Our horse masters remain skillful and our warriors strong. Our plaza hosts the most renowned healers and shamans.
To make things even better, the Academy established centuries ago, still produces our most prominent scholars. Brilliant minds, just the way your minds can become, IF you study hard enough!"
The teacher exhaled satisfied with her lecture. She glanced around for any questions coming from students, but was startled by the captivated crowd that gathered around her class. Such scores of curious folk were to be expected when the class was held outdoors. The teacher didn't mind, as long as they didn't interrupt her. She believed revision to be harmless.
A boy around 10 reluctantly raised his hand. The teacher encouraged him to ask away.
"What does evaporate mean?" the child asked
A round of laughter echoed from the crowd.
The teacher eyed them annoyed.
To her response, a woman's voice was heard:
"You get t' have dum' questions when you sit toddlers an' teens together."
Undaunted, the teacher stood up facing the crowd around her students. Her skin was silky smooth, her face almost that of a young girl's, but her curves were giving away her maturity. Taller than most women, she approached the crowd in a challenging pace. Her long, black ponytail danced a short wind's rhythm, as she turned her head right and left to identify the culprit.
"It is you Roxanna, isn't it?"
The crowd dispersed in front of the teacher and the woman who had talked back, forming an invisible corridor between them.
"Step forward please." the teacher motioned to her demanding.
Roxanna the farmer, a woman in her mid-fifties, dragged her feet unwillingly in front of the class.
Without losing her patience, the teacher asked in a calm, yet austere voice:
"What does evaporate mean Roxanna?"
All eyes fell on the farmer woman, fixed on her figure, pricking her like needles. Roxanna gulped, but didn't answer.
The teacher lifted her chin up, repeating the question in a stricter voice.
Roxanna stood frozen in front of everyone. Even if she knew the answer, she had lost the will to open her mouth.
Seeing that the woman's lips were sealed, the teacher turned to one of her students instead.
"Rhoe, do you know what evaporate means?" she asked tenderly.
The girl named Rhoe stood up.
"It's when the upper part of water becomes air."
The teacher looked at Roxanna from the corner of her eye, while addressing one last question to her student.
"What is your age Rhoe?"
"Ma mommy says I have lived for 7 winters."
Another round of laughter echoed from the crowd and the students this time.
The teacher rest her gaze on the farmer woman, empty of any emotion.
"Be on your way now."
The farmer woman lowered her head defeated, not because she was told off by the teacher, but because she was humiliated by a small girl.
As she made her way back to work, she still heard the teacher's voice addressing the crowd.
"There are no dumb questions, especially when they come from a child. Today's curious child will be tomorrow's inventor, your botanist or alchemist. Be sure to not only feed their mouths, but also their minds."
Her words muted both students and passerby folk. Satisfied with the silence, the teacher snapped at everyone.
"Class dismissed!"