There was a book that held the words of power and creation and there were beasts wanted it.
How they hunted us.
It was our curse, to protect the book. To run, constantly. To never know peace. There were times when it seemed too much to bear. To watch loved ones fall and never know a home.
And we did die. In suffering and in pain. We fended off the beasts, but one by one we fell. But we always kept the book safe.
For we were the people who spoke the words and brought forth creation on this world.