The Goddess Naapi created the World and all life, and then retreated into Dreamland. But Her Children were not to last as long as she; their lives lasted not a blink of Her Eye and were gone. The Races of Air were the quickest to die, gone from the World as swiftly as a breeze through the grass in the hot, still summer. Those of Earth were more enduring, but even as a mountain splits and crumbles to dust, so too the lives of the humans, centaurs, and one-horns, cracking to dust before they have even rightly met their majesty. The Peoples of Water have lives as long as the great salt sea, but even the sea has gone dry under the fierce southern sun. Longest to live are Her Blessed Peoples, those of Fire, for they are closest to the pure essence of the Goddess. But even then, the Fire they are built of can die down to cold ashes, and they also die. Naapi was dismayed when generations of souls arose in Dreamland; while the dead were comfortable there, Naapi thought it a pity that they should only once know the color red, of the scent of lilac, or only once feel the warm sunlight upon their shoulders-- that each soul could only once live and experiance the joys and sorrows of mortal life, and the beautiful World she created. Deciding such, Naapi sent the souls back down to the World, to live many times until complete understanding and wisdom seized them, and joined them joyfully with the Goddess.