The wind blows a little colder now than it did three months ago. A dank, chilliness has overtaken the hills and fields and forests. The leaves turn to fiery orange before crumpling and decaying, then slipping slowly to the bitter earth. Soon, we will have to vacate our beloved summer homes and return indoors to our starker but warmer winter cottages.

The people of the past always fascinate me. After reading countless novels they wrote about what life in our current era would be like, all I can do is shrug my shoulders at their elaborate descriptions of shiny, silver rocket ships, robotic prosthetics and technologically dominant lifestyle. I laugh at the names they gave us, a mixture of letters and numbers made up from some imaginary language.

Here are the facts: my name is Feldspar Currer, my father, Antimony. My mother is called Garnet and my siblings are Gypsum and Topaz-not one single number or acronym to be seen. I live in a desolate wilderness. It is made up of endless miles of thick woodland. Rocky mountains stand out from amongst this landscape. Instead of silver spaceships, we live in wooden houses and they are simple ones at that. We are composed of flesh, bone and blood with no metal components whatsoever.

Many of the ancient tales depicting our time describe the separation of the future inhabitants into two factions-they got that part right. But even then, we are not two classes of robots or races of aliens. The two hominid species on earth were a result of selective evolution. Though we both have a common ancestor- humans-the two species could not be more different.

The species I belong to is considered the genetic superior-and for good reason. “Honorees”, as well call ourselves, are elegant creatures. We average six-and-a-half feet in height. We all have light tan skin and very large hazel eyes three times the size of our ancestors’. Our typical life span is one-hundred-thirty years. We are stronger, faster and more intelligent than the ancient humans. We show almost no emotion of any kind and live a reserved lifestyle. We stay within closely-knit family homes, virtually cut off from the other honorees in the world.

Then there is the other faction, the “Groundlings.” Genetically, intellectually and physically, they are polar opposites of the Honorees. Groundlings are short, ugly specimens. They very much resemble the “hunchback” Quasimodo from that one ancient human novel.  Groundlings are usually around three feet in height. They have white or ash-colored faces with black, beady eyes and their pale bodies are covered in a thin layer of hair. They are dim-witted individuals that speak only rudimentary language and live in the underbrush deep in the woods. These are the leftovers, the genetically inferior descendants of humans.

The Honorees pushed the Groundlings into the wilderness so they would have to look upon them as little as possible. A few years ago, the Chieftain, a woman named Nickel, declared the Groundlings a nuisance and wanted them eradicated. She began offering rewards to any Honoree who slew a Groundling. My father immediately jumped at the chance and started training me and my younger brother, Topaz. After a few months, I was allowed to venture out on my own and quite often, I captured a Groundling.

This simple, somewhat totalitarian existence is quite different from what the beings of the past predicted. The story behind this is a bit complicated. As soon as humans had totally depleted the supply of fossil fuels, automobiles and other things powered by those resources were useless. The factors that produced manufactured goods also had to be shut down. They had not yet perfected interstellar travel and thus could not relocate. In order to conserve what little they had left, the earthbound humans had to revert back to using horses and draft animal power. They were forced to use only the most basic materials for building-most notably wood.  All the hybrid animals they created escaped and now roam the wilds. The lion and tiger died out but their offspring, the liger, lives on. The only domesticated hybrid we use is the zorse-a zebra-horse cross. Over the millennia, the melting of the ice caps resulted in the most lowland areas being flooded. Then, an ice age set in but it was a surprisingly brief one, lasting only fifteen thousand years.

After all of this, what was left was a starker, more rustic world. Hominids had to go back to their most primeval ways of survival. All technology was abandoned and beings once more lived in intimate family groups just as their distant ancestors had. Complex governments were abandoned because these hominids believed the larger an institution was, the more corrupt it was. All contact between continents was cut off. Today, the Honorees in my area are aware of a large land across the ocean but we know nothing else about it.

I only learned these things through the words spoken to me by the local historians who still collect, examine and redistribute the ancient texts written by the humans.  I was always more of the hunting type but I still took interest in history.

Besides the Groundlings, I would go into the woods to hunt deer, bears or other wildlife. I love nothing better than the solitude I feel when riding along on my horse, Schist. I hear nothing but the light hoof beats he makes and the occasional snapping of a twig. But sometimes, I hear other noises-it is music. I have always attributed the beautiful melodies to another nearby group of Honorees. But try as I may, I could never find the source of the rhythms.

On my hunts for food, should I ever return with a stag or bear, my mother would immediately take it to our quaint kitchen for butchering. I did not really hold my family terribly. But then again, they really did not either. From what I have read, humans were much more passionate and bonded to one another than we are.
Despite this, I still look out for my younger sister, Gypsum. She definitely is the most intelligent among us while my little brother, Topaz is much more rugged than either my parents, Gypsum or myself. Topaz could be lost in the darkest forest for weeks and come out unscathed.

Our home is situated in a small clearing along with about ten other families.  We know our neighbors well enough although we do not associate with them much. We are governed by a council composed of the leader of each family and headed by the female chieftain. The council members know us all so any decisions are made with everyone’s interests in mind. It really is a nice way of life. Hardly anyone ever commits an infraction and if somebody-usually a young child-does, they are not subjected to corporal punishment but rather to the temporary shame and mockery of the rest of the families. It is very rare for us to encounter a Groundling and if a couple should happen to wander into the village, they are quickly shooed away or apprehended.

Ours is a strict society.