The world is not able to be summarized in a single history. Each race, each creature inside a single race, each class, technology, spirituality, and countless more things each have a spot in history and a story to tell. One moment is nothing more than a blip in time, barely comprehensible even to the Gods who watch it play out; yet that single moment to many feels almost eternal. Who is to say that one history is more important to recount than another? So we will recount some of the points in history that affected the living in ways that shifted the world.
I. "The Time of Humans"
Humans had blind control over the planet until the years the Black Plague nearly wiped them out of existence. There was so much war going on, that no measures had been taking place to improve health and quality of life. Efforts of men were to train for battle and work jobs to get food to their families, while women were told to stay in their homes and tend to the children. Baths were rare and the men had first opportunity for the clean water because they were the most important in the household as providers. Next were the women who would have to bath in the grime that the men left behind after long hours and days of pushing through mud and manurer. Last to bath would be the children, a risky and dangerous time since the water by now was so filthy that often the children would become ill if they accidentally swallowed some of it.
Since the men worked so hard, they almost nightly visited brothels or taverns to help ease the pain in their bodies. Disease was rampant in many of these establishments and the pewter plating and metal cups served, often had toxicity that got consumed with the meal! The men would pass out and be carried home to be laid on the kitchen table for a few days as the family ate dinner around the body; the reason for this is because often times in these states a person would be mistaken for dead and be buried alive while unconscious, so families started insisting on the practice of monitoring the body a few days to see if they would wake up.
Sages now refer to this dark time (previously referred to by humans as the Early Middle Ages) as the 'Human Era' (HE) which ended when the plague nearly wiped out mankind. It was perhaps for the best however, because it was only when the massive population of humans declined that the rest of the world's races had the opportunity to come out of hiding. Many of the humans that had survived the Black Plague now had to fight for their lives and property against several races they priorly knew nothing about. Several battles ensued, some won, and some lost; many weaker races conceded to either live among the humans or to retreat to locations where humans resided less. One of the wars even produced new races as the humans adapted quickly to the changing world and used magic to create stronger warriors, now known as the Dire Wolves and Centaur. A full Century passed before battles started to settle and claimed lands were no longer able to be challenged. The 'Magic Era' (ME) had begun, with each race staking claim in the world in one way or another. Struggles still happen as many turn on each other and attempt new conquerings, but finally... there was enough peace in the world once more to begin anew. The planet, priorly called Earth by humans was renamed Varlonan. Countries disappeared from existence, as they were situated for their new inhabitants. Little would remain the same, and much would more still waited to be discovered.
II. "The Time of Magic"
It became obvious that humans were not capable of harnessing large amounts of magic like some other races could. In fact, as Sages observed the humans attempts to master what they barely understood, they noticed that the offspring were changing. At first the humans would cast the children away... often in rituals to the Gods for favor or repentance of their sins; many newborns thrown into the mouths of volcanoes. Then the humans started to believe that these children could be used against their enemies, as some of the original survivors were noticed to be able to use magic unlike the humans, and were immune to disease! So they began to keep and raise them, teaching them as best they could to use the very magic the humans had not been able to. The next wave of fear came when they noticed that these children were outliving their parents. So they were cast away once more... blamed for all the wrongs of the world from illness to natural disasters. No longer were the newborns sacrificed however, because though the children no longer had favor, they now weren't seen as worthy enough to give to the Gods. So most of the humans abandoned their own children, leaving them to raise themselves in the world. These children later on called themselves 'The Namuh' and were deemed their own race by Sages two generations after their arrival to the world. Many humans now find magic almost taboo and refuse to have anything to do with it because they do not want to produce Namuh children.
Though a few races feel similar about magic as the humans, the rest embrace it as part of how life and the world works. Fae for example probably couldn't survive without the flow of mana in the world. Sages explain how magic effects the world, starting with the life stream. There is record of two main sources of this life stream: the skies, and Varlonan's core in the earth. There is debate on if these streams come from Gods, or if they are like nature and simply exist to help life survive. Before the M.E. there was said to be dancing lights in the skies seen in some parts of the world... this also has two explanations on how it works, but the most accepted is that it was the first sighting of the mana life stream. When people tap into and use magic, they are actually drawing from one of the two streams.
Magic can be found in almost everything in the world. Various plains of existence have also been discovered (debunked by those who do not believe in magic or religion) for three of the races: the Angels, the Demons, and the Quietus. Varlonan is now considered by another term, 'the surface world' by some who travel regularly between the plains. Few can actually visit these other plains, which strengthens the argument that they do not exist, but regardless... Sages have chosen to record them in history records.
Whether there are Gods or not, users of magic have learned that their precious resource of mana is not endless. Most teach their students to never abuse magic, because one day the life stream could dry up and the world would become a very dark place.
III. "The Great Disaster"
Before the battles for land had ended after the H.E., there was one great war waged between the magic users. Sages are only able to piece together small bits of information regarding this war, because non-magic users had been unable to pass through the barriers that surrounded the area the war took place on. What started the war, and who (if anyone) was victorious may never be known, but the great disaster that resulted because of this war had the entire world effected.
Termed the 'War of Wizards' the result of such powerful magic clashing had rays of mana shooting skyward, striking right through the life stream of the sky. Mana flowed down toward Varlonan like a mist covered waterfall of gold and silver, where a few wizards found means to capture and harness the escaped mana, undiluted. The containers used to hold the it were hidden away, and have not been found since. Now, not only was the stream damaged by the careless throwing around of magic, but the skies as well. Exactly what magic was used or how it occurred can only be speculated, but the very moon was blown apart, threatening to fall down toward the world and destroy it. The war came to a halt as the wizards realized what they had done, dooming everyone in Varlonan for their greed. They of course hadn't desired for a result as devastating as this and most agreed to come together to try to save the world. With their magic combined, they found a solution that would keep the three largest pieces of the moon from falling out of the sky. There was nothing they could do about the rest of the moon rocks which did fall to the ground and destroy anything in their path, but they could at least avoid Varlonan's total destruction.
The three large rocks were manipulated and moved by the wizards to remain in the sky... now leaving three moons to circle Varlonan. For a short time it seemed as though the world was saved, but alas, they had averted one disaster only to face the consequence of their solution. Everything that the moon had an effect on was now multiplied threefold and not able to be kept in check by the power of the singular sun. Nature was suddenly going out of control, causing massive tidal waves, as well as longer and colder nights. They knew in order to balance the moon, the sun would need to be more powerful. How could they possibly accomplish such a feat? There was but one way they could find, but at a steep cost.
So the wizards who had started the war, endangered the world, saved the world, and then endangered it again were prepared to face the price of their prior choices. Each returned to their families to kiss them goodbye and leave preparations for their departure. The day came when they all gathered back together in the same place they thought they had saved the world. One last time they pooled their powers together. In order to make their plan work, they would have to sacrifice their lives and bind the magic for eternity so that it could not be compromised again. One by one the wizards fell to the ground and bound their magic with their last breath, as a large orb of light that looked similar to fire rose higher and higher before disappearing above the clouds. The wizards had created a companion to the sun that would relieve its stress from the moons and enhance its effect on Varlonan. By giving up their lives in the process, no magic user after them could alter what they had done. The ball of magic was deemed the 'Twin Sun' and heralded as it remedied the havoc the trio moons had been causing. Sages were able to piece together what had occurred by a handful of witnesses from that day who passed the story along, though no one has been able to locate the legendary place where the wizards fell, perhaps guarded by the very nature they died to save.
IV. A Few Figures of History
Rasputin Grigori Dimidov (Era: Time of Humans)
Ethnicity: Archaic (Vampire), originally Russian Weight: 190 lbs Height: 6' 3" Eye Color: Green Hair Color: Black
History: Rasputin was born on October 30, in Prokovskoe, a small village in Siberia on the banks of the Tura River. Even before being turned, the man whom came to be known as Rasputin wandered Russia in search of hedonistic pleasures and vile pursuits.
As a young lad, Rasputin shocked his village by constantly finding ways to get into trouble with the authorities. Drunkenness, stealing and womanizing were activities particularly enjoyed by the dissolute young man. Rasputin in fact was developing into a rake, a man with a debauched, and endless, sexual appetite, whom then took to wandering as to avoid any repercussion from his actions.
In the course of his travels, at Verkhoturye Monastery Rasputin was fascinated by a renegade sect within the Orthodox faith, the Skopsty. Followers of the Skopsty firmly believed that the only way to reach God was through sinful actions. Once the sin was committed and confessed, the penitent could achieve forgiveness. In reality, what the Skopsty upheld was to"sin to drive out sin." Rasputin, one of the biggest sinners of the province, was suddenly struck by the potential held by this theory. It was soon thereafter that the debauched, lecherous peasant adopted the robes of a monk, developed his own self-gratifying doctrines, traveled the country as a "staretz" and sinned to his heart's content.
Rasputin arrived in St. Petersburg in the robes of a monk, as a self-styled 'holy man', or 'staretz', with a reputation as a reckless drunkard, a healer, and a womanizer. He had created his own 'theology' from different cults and sects, and believed that a person had to sin in order to become holy. He acquired the name Rasputin as a nickname ... it means 'dissolute' or 'debauched' in Russian ... and he certainly lived up to his name. In addition to his less than upstanding ways, he was also dirty and unkempt. He never washed or changed clothes, and his greasy hair and ragged appearance helped convince his followers that he was a 'man of God'. He was also known for his intense personal magnetism, which was augmented by his piercing, (some said hypnotic) green eyes.
As a mortal, his immorality combined with his charming demeanor won him many devotees. These followers gave Rasputin anything they owned, succumbed to his every desire and even surrendered their lives. Fascinated by death, he often tortured his disciples in order to watch for the exact moment when the soul left the body. Little more than slaves, all who fell under his seductive spell could only hope that death came quickly at the end.
The Archaic who turned Rasputin found him in a burned-out monastery near Siberia. She witnessed a ceremony wherein a young boy was stripped of his clothing before numerous onlookers, including the child's parents. Rasputin skinned the child with a carving knife and tossed bits of flesh to the crowd. The woman whom turned Rasputin became enraptured by the sheer abandonment of humanity by both Rasputin and his flock and decided to create an eternal companion.
Having experienced almost every pleasure and pain the human body could know, Rasputin accepted her offer without hesitation. For one year, the two became close companions traveling through Russia. Wherever they went, Rasputin would attract a body of followers eager for his attention, and she reveled in the debauchery. That is, until Rasputin grew bored with her.
While Rasputin fed her desire, she did nothing in return. Rasputin found the one who turned him to be a dullard with little imagination and less charm. Boredom soon turned to resentment and then to anger. Finally Rasputin turned his special attentions to the Archaic who'd given him immortality.
Rasputin ordered his slaves to bind his creator and eat of her flesh. They did so with no hesitation. When she screamed for an end to the torment, Rasputin bit into her naked skull and drained her of her essence. He then slaughtered his own followers in a blood crazed madness. Rasputin would once again as he always had, take to wandering...his deviant desires again seeking some means of being sated.
Janice Whysper (Era: Time of Magic)
The Beginning Of The Whyspers
Many many many years ago during the Magic era, there existed a tiny fairy dwelling near an old abandoned shrine of a god. Within this dwelling was a fairy named Mirala. She had beautiful blue hair and blue eyes and always wore a little dress her mother had helped her to make before she passed away. There was one thing this little fairy loved to do, and that was fly. She flew whenever she had the chance to, as high as she could, hoping one day she would be able to reach the clouds themselves and touch them.
Alongside her sometimes was the love of her life, Kinro, who had brown hair and brown eyes. Kinro deeply loved Mirala and would go to the ends of the earth for her. One day, Mirala and Kinro was sitting in a tree, watching the view of the big world around them when they saw a human girl wandering close by. Human children in the past had tended to be rather mean and would cause havoc and chaos within the fairy dwelling.
Mirala looked to Kinro and shook her head. "There's another one, love. I probably should scare her away, just in case."
Kinro tilted his head, seeing the child. The girl wasn't coming towards the dwelling. She was close, yes, but not really heading in that direction. "Dear, I don't think she is really doing anything wrong, why not leave her be?"
But before he could finish, Mirala had already taken off to get closer to the girl. While managing to stay out of sight, she created an illusion of a giant dragon. Of course the dragon couldn't do any real harm, it was only just to scare the child away.
The girl noticed the dragon and he eyes widened. Mirala made the dragon speak in a loud thunderous voice. "Child, leave this place at once nad never return, or I will eat you and the rest of your family!"
The girl trembled and took off running, shouting "Mommy! Mommy!".
Mirala sighed, shaking her head. She really did hate having to scare some of them off, but it was either that or let the dwelling be destroyed and move again. As she was about to back up into the tree, her little ears picked up someone coming towards the dwelling. "More humans?" She thought.
She maintained her dragon illusion as she went back into hiding. Kinro could kind of see what was going on through the tree, but missed some parts of it and couldn't figure out why his love wasn't returning...that is until he saw the girl returning with an older woman that looked very angry. This woman dressed in wizard's clothing, so it was pretty clear she would figure out the dragon was not real and he hoped Mirala would not get in trouble.
Mirala saw the woman as well, but had hoped the clothes were just for show. "Child, why have you returned?!" She had the dragon say in its' scary voice. "I warned you never to come back!"
The child whimpered, clinging to her mommy's leg. The woman rolled her eyes and waved her hand once, dispelling the dragon. Mirala was shocked. "She...just..."
Before the stunned fairy could finish her thought, she felt herself being pulled magically towards the mage. The woman snatched the fairy when she was close enough to grab. "So, you were the one scaring my daughter?" She glared, squeezing the small being a bit.
Mirala just could not say anything, she didn't know what to say actually. It was weird too. Since when did humans actually have this kind of power? But then she saw what it is. The woman had pale skin, unlike the child who looked very much human. "N-n...." She gulped, unable to finish, which the woman finished for her. "Yes, I'm a namuh. I saw you before I saw the dragon as a matter of fact, bug."
"Mommy, don't hurt her!" The child pleaded. "It was a mean prank, sure, but please don't hurt her over it."
Mirala quivered, unable to say anything. Kinro saw the scene that was unfolding and flew down to the woman. "Miss, we apologize. We really didn't mean to scare your daughter like this, but our dwelling is always in danger of children like your own terrorizing our dwelling. It really was not with mean intentions, I assure you."
The woman glared and with her other hand grabbed the male fairy. "So you assumed it was all right to scare a little child like that? I'm tired of you fairies thinking it's fun to go around scaring little kids. You know, I should teach you and the rest of the fairies a lesson. I place this curse on you and your dwelling. You will never know the joys of flight ever again. Your children to be born will never know either. You all will live flightless lives."
"Mommy, please! Don't hurt them!" The girl cried.
She smield at the child. "It won't hurt them at all." She released the fairies who started to hover. "Enjoy your last few seconds of flight." Mirala was crying. She would lost the one thing she really loved. Kinro held her close. "It's alright, Mira. I'm here. We'll be fine."
With a couple more flicks of her hand, the woman then set in motion the birth of the whyspers. Mirala's, Kinro's, and all the other fairies' wings in the dwelling disappeared right there. The two wingless fairies then started to fall from the sky, never once letting go of one another. The little girl immediately caught them in her hands and sat them on the ground, frowning. "I'm sorry...my mommy is pretty mean sometimes. It's all my fault. I'm so sorry."
"Hmph, don't apolgoize to them, they did it, not you, dear." The woman said rather coldly." Mira and Kinro were happy to at least have lived not to pummel to their death. Mira sighed as she looked up at the girl who had saved their lives. "She's right...it's my fault. I never should have scared you...now I'll have to pay for what I've done."
The girl looked at her mommy, who had already started walking away and the child then had a determined look on her face. "I'm gonna learn magic too, and I'll fix your wings!"
The two small beings looked up at her. Kinro finally spoke with a smile on his face. "I hope so. It would be nice to fly again."
After that day, the girl was allowed to come into the dwelling to play with the wingless fairies so long as she promised to be extra careful and she was. The girl continued this for many years. Her mother knew of what her child was doing but didn't really care. If she could break the curse, then fine. At least the fairies would have learned their lesson by that point. As time passed, the child grew older and older, learning magic bit by bit. her only goal was to help the fairies be able to help the fairies fly again.
One day, Mirala came out of her little home, having just woke up, and she looked up to see the girl who had now become a young woman sitting in her usual spot, waiting for the little ones to wake up. At this point, she had been working with her little friends to at least come up with a way for them to move around other than her carrying them everywhere.
Mira ran over to Janice, the young woman, and waved up to her. Janice smiled down at her little friend and picked her up in her hands. "Well, hello Mirala. How are you today?"
Mirala smiled. "Well, I just woke up, but I'm alright. Found any new spells we can try today?"
"Yes, actually", Janice replied. "It won't restore your flight, but it should ensure you're not walking on the ground only to get stepped on by a passing by giant.
Mirala sighed. "Oh...I see." She seemed a little sad hearing that.
Janice tilted her head. "So you want to be stepped on then?"
Mirala shook her head. "No...I guess...I still dream of the days when I could fly anywhere I wanted."
"In a sense, with this, you still can." Janice chuckled. "But that depends how you use it, Mira."
The little fairy looked confused. Just then Kinro came out of his home as well to see the two woman. "Ah, good morning you two." he smiled moving to the two.
Janice smiled. "Hello, Kinro. I was just about to tell Mira that I may have a solution to your transportation problems." She lowered her other hand so Kinro could climb on and once he was on, he brought them closer. "My mother's spell is really strong. I've tried everything I know, but I can't break her spell...however..."
She disappeared with the two, reappearing in a tree. The two fae were amazed. "Whoa!" Both exclaimed at once.
Janice chuckled. "It is true you can't fly anymore, but with this, do you really need to?"
Mira and Kinro looked between each other. The finally Mira looked up at Janice. "You're right. I love it! It's so much faster than flying. Sure I may never be able to touch the clouds, but at least we don't need you to carry us everywhere anymore."
Janice chuckled, teleporting back to the ground. "Go gather the rest of the fairies." With that, the two went and called together all of the wingless fairies in the dwelling. They all gathered around the namuh woman who sighed. "Years ago, my mother took away your wings...and with that, your ability to fly. This was my own fault. But today, I will restore to you your freedoms...though not in the way I'm sure you all would like..."
She sighed. "After many many years of trying, I couldn't break my mother's spell...even after her passing, it still remains as strong as ever. So I will grant you all another ability." She closed her eyes, holding her hands out over the entire masses of tiny people. Her hands glowed with a bright white light. One by one, the tiny inhabitants found themselves glowing as well...but, what was odd is all of them lit up with different colors. Some of them were red, some where blue, some where green, some were yellow...and some others lit up different colors that the others didn't.
After a few minutes, her hands finished glowing and she slumped down, having used a lot of magical energy. "It's done, now....imagine anywhere you want to go...little ones...and you will be there...." She sighed heavily. Mira and Kinro blinked. Mira approached Janice while the rest of her brethren were off trying their newfound ability. "Are you okay, Janice?"
She chuckled and stood, though almost stumbling. "I should be asking you that, little one. How do you feel? Go on, just imagine anywhere you want to be and you will be there."
Kinro tilted his head. "Anywhere?" he closed his eyes and he disappeared, reappearing on Janice's left shoulder. When he opened his eyes, he was amazed. "Oh my."
Janice smiled and looked to Mira. "It's your turn."
Mira nodded and wanted to be on Janice's right shoulder. Sure enough, that's where she appeared.
"Wow." Mirala was speechless. "This is great."
Janice felt for once in many years some relief that she had finally been able to somewhat undo the wrong her mother had done.
After that, she disappeared, but not without leaving one more gift. Within her spell, she had secretly boosted all of their magicial power to offset the fact that they no longer had wings. In turn, the whyspers all gained some sort of element, and in time, the wingless fairies would come to call themselves whyspers after the woman who helped them the most in their time of need. This story, however was lost over times and eventually forgotten. Very few remember it and aren't even sure it's the truth.
Harald Harada (Era: Time of Humans)
This was a time of war, time of strife and suffering. It was a time when the northern tribes sailed forth from their icy homes with thousands of dragon ships. Bearded men, huge and powerful men, with weapons crude but effective. Long waraxes, spears, large shields. Dressed in chainmail and fur, faces covered with helmets, they looked beastly. Truly barbaric. These northern warriors, pushed through the lands of the south, destroying villages, killing entire cities in plundering rage. Opposition was crushed by viscous tactics like the shieldwall and boars head, a fighting wedge, brought victory after victory to these northern brutes.
Many of their battles were lost in memory, yet there is one battle that is legendary. It was called Haralds hill, named by the leader of Bears clan, one Harald Harada. A huge man himself, with cruel eyes and a mouth in constant snarl. This battle was famous because it was at the time when the Northern influence over this land was beginning to fade. The once weak southerners had risen, united into one force, under the king Alfred and where pushing the whole northern armies away from their lands. They did it with numbers, with bodies, swarming over their enemies like locusts. So Harlad looked upon a sea of banners, looked upon the mass of bodies soon to charge them and ordered his men to stand upon a steep hill. Some wanted to run, for the odds were against them, but Harald killed the ones who talked with cowardice, strengthening his hold of his other men, because they could fear their enemy, but they dreaded their leader.
Hence Alfreds armies came forth, thousands upon thousands of vengefully screaming lunatics, wishing to destroy these cruel enslavers. Many a time other northerners would have retreated, but not these ones. Stubbornly they stood on that hill, they stood on the hill, and killed. Their enemies hand to crawl over their own dead to even get into the range of the northerners and the northerners just laughed and screamed in joy of blood. They even say that the sky turned blood red that evening. A terrible omen.
Yet quantity becomes quality in the end and slowly the northerners were pushed back, loosing one man here and another there, until only a handful remained. Harald they say stepped forth then, a blood cowered figure, like some twisted demon from the darkest nightmares and screaming he shouted his order to charge. A handful of northerners against a sea of enemies, charged in and caused a ripple of fear through the southerners and they were checked for a short time. It was slaughter at first, yet in the end the southerners overcame their fears and with strength of desperation they overcame their enemies.
Yet as the bodies of the northerners were accounted for, one was missing, that was the body of Harald Harada, no one knew what happened to him, had he escaped somehow, or had he risen to heaven as some god of war, chosen to join the deities because of his storm of violence and death. Yet in the old scripts they say that a day after the battle at Haralds hill, the king Alfred was found decapitated by a large axe, the kings head was recovered on Haralds hill, stuck on a pike, his face frozen in a look of fear.
The northerners were defeated, yet with the King dead, civil war arose within the southerners lands and causing more death and destruction. This civil war lasted to the days of the plague.
Grenk da 1st & Bernard von Dunderhosen (Era: Time of Humans)
Ogres some say was a bad joke or the lack of creativity by some god. The other theory is the race was created in a bad magical experiment, though there was no proof of that, probably because the ogre ate the mage. Either way, one had to admit oneself that ogres were special, special not in a very good way. The more famous ogre, called Gnerk the first, was born in the swamps of Tanglethorn in the eastern part of Sursum. He was a mighty one, taller than the rest of the ogres, smarter and better looking. How it came to be that Gnerk became the more famous of ogres, well that was a long story.
Known for his appetite, Gnerk ventured out from the swamps daily, to feed on what ever he could find, since food was pretty rare in the swamps. Oh there was an occasional hiker or two, but other than that, food was rare. So being that this was the time of humans, humans were the main resource of food, later elves, fae and even some centaurs were put on the menu. Centaurs specially because they looked like horses and tasted pretty much like a horse, where as fae tasted as chicken and elves like fish....
Anyways, ogres back then, were still creatures from fairytale`s and humans often deemed those who had seen one as persons with a vivid imagination or just completely nutters. Gnerk was to change that. He became bolder and bolder, venturing deeper and deeper into human territory, eating his way through cows, sheep, chickens and shepherds. Where he went caused great terror in humans and finally the humans reacted by hiring their greatest hunter, Bernard von Dunderhosen, so that this plague of an creature was finally eradicated from the face of the earth. Sadly Bernard had miscalculated his skills, when facing a ogre the size of Gnerk and after a very brief struggle Bernard got eaten.
Now the question of why Gnerk became the worlds most famous ogre, well humans made a song about him, well not exactly about him, but about Bernard, though Gnerk is mentioned in the song, if not briefly. It was a very popular song called Bernards Percolation, a educational song about the digestive system of ogres, where Bernard travels through intestines to finally ooze out from the ogre. Though this song rarely was used in an educational manner, but rather a nice drinking song.
If you feel sad about the Bernard von Dunderhosen and his family, dont be. They became quite wealthy, when Mathew von Dunderhosen after listening to the song, invented a new septic system called Bernards chair, which now decorates most toilets in Tandora. So when you sit on the toilet and boredom sinks in, sing Bernards Percolation to pass the time.
Faolian the Fool (Era: Time of Magic)
After the Black Plague devastated Humans and before wizards doomed then saved the world, in the era of magic and mystery, lived Faolian the Broken. He lived in a broken house at the end of a broken road. His birth broke his family, and considering him bad luck, they abandoned him to a broken Fate. Those villagers who lived nearby pitied his broken existence, so they brought him food, clothes, and toys when they were able, leaving their offerings at the edge of the broken road, to frightened of his broken Fate to actually make contact.
But Faolian did not know how to cook, so much of the food went to rot. Doomed to be Broken, the thread of his clothing often snapped, and his toys broke moments after he touched them. Nothing brought Faolian happiness and he was left to wander around the broken house, alone and always disappointed.
Late one night he happened to be outside the broken house when the Full Moon crested above the distant trees. Struck by Her ethereal beauty, Faolian watched in awe as moonbeams appeared from scattered cloud cover, one stretching from Her radiant face to touch upon his breast. It did not break. The lovely Moon and Her milky rays were immune to his broken Fate. For the first time in his broken life, his empty, broken heart felt full and whole, and tears of joy streamed unchecked from his eyes.
A traveler happened upon Faolian in his enraptured state, an outsider who in his foolishness, did not fear the broken road and knew nothing of the broken Fate. His arrival snapped Faolian from his trance.
"Greetings, boy. I have traveled far and hoped to find a bite to eat and perhaps a place to rest my weary head."
"Then you are in luck!" Faolian exclaimed. "I have only just discovered my Destiny and have a house to get rid of, and you will find stockpiles of food inside. Would you be interested in a bit of trade?"
"What sort of trade did you have in mind?" the Traveler asked warily. Life had not been kind to him, and such things as a house, even a broken one, did not come cheap. "I have little coin and naught much of any value..."
"Trade Fates with me. I am in love with the Moon and She with me, so I must journey far so we can be together."
"You wish to reach the Moon?" the Traveler cried in disbelief. "It cannot be done!"
"Are you not a Fool?" Faolian pointed out gently. For only a Fool would brave the broken road.
"Aye," the Traveler sighed. "And you are Broken."
Faolian gestured to his Beloved. "For Her, I would be the Fool."
The Traveler gazed longingly at the broken house. It was not beautiful, nor did it have an inkling of grace, but he had traveled hungry for years and years. "For a roof over my head and food in my belly...I would happily be Broken."
And in a ritual that has been lost to time, they traded Fates and Faolian became the Fool. Wrapped in protective foolishness, he could dare the broken road and set out after his beloved Moon. For three years he traveled, always hungry, walk walk walking towards the Moon, but never reaching Her. Occasionally moonbeams reached him, touching him, the arms of his beloved beckoning him onward and reinforcing his determination to reach Her.
Three more years went by, then three more, and three more after that. Eventually the luck of the foolish brought him to the edge of the world at the base of tallest mountain. The Moon glowed directly above its peak. Full of renewed hope, Faolian began to climb. He trudged up the mountain pass and foolishly cast his pack aside when it became too much trouble to carry. But the peak was not to be reached in one night, or two, or even three. On the fourth day, Faolian reached the end of the pass and was confronted with a sheer rock face, smooth as glass and slick as ice that stretched clear to the top.
Despondent, Faolian slumped against the rock, fingers bleeding from hours of useless scrambling at the cliff face. His face and all exposed flesh was chapped and sore from the unforgiving wind always seen at such a height. His clothes were naught more than rags hanging from a starved thin frame. His only consolation was the soothing light from his beloved that kissed his face.
Suddenly, a great winged shadow blocked out the Moonlight, and Faolian feared for their safety. "Begone, foul creature!" he cried. "Do not interfere in our last moments together!"
The giant winged beast touched down a short distance away, its claws easily gripping the mountainside. It was a dragon, its scales pale blue in the moonlight. "What is this?" the Dragon mused. "A human on my mountain?"
"I am Faolian, on a quest to reach my beloved Moon. For years I have traveled in her direction, always towards but never reaching Her divine face!"
"You are in love with the moon?" he rumbled, curious about the Fool and his hopeless quest. The Dragon had been alive for a very long time and seen many, many things, but this was a First, and those happened rarely for him anymore.
"I am," Faolian answered proudly. "And She is in love with me."
"Is she now?" the Dragon wondered, casting a speculative look towards the nighttime orb. He was an old Sage, having spent countless years buried in his cave with hoarded books filled with ancient knowledge. "You realize the moon is not a living thing?" he told Faolian gently. Such foolishness must be busted, he thought himself kind. "It is a rock in the sky, and so far away none can ever reach it."
"You lie," Faolian countered. He was not angry, but held the confidence of a Fool and was secure in his foolish ignorance. He seen an opportunity here and sought to take advantage of the Sage. "If it is as you say...then show me. Allow me to ride between your wings and fly me as high as you can go."
The Dragon's eyes were sad. "If I do as you wish then you will die. The air above is thin and frigid. You will not be able to breath, and your fragile skin is no protection against the bitter cold."
But Faolian insisted. For two days the Dragon tried to talk the Fool out of going. He hunted food and used his fire to cook it. He brought the Fool fresh clothing and the purest water in the world. He showed him the treasure stashed beneath the mountain and promised to share it if Faolian would only give up his foolish love for the Moon. All to no avail.
On the third night after meeting, the Dragon silently waited as Faolian climbed between his wings. Without a word, he took to flight, climbing higher and higher with each heavy flap of his wings. But no matter how high he soared, the Moon never grew closer.
"Higher! Higher!" Faolian demanded, screaming to be heard above the roar of the wind and straining to speak through chattering teeth. "Higher! Higher!" Even when he could no longer feel his fingers and toes. "Higher! Higher!" Even when he could barely breathe. "Higher! Higher!" And when he could no longer speak, he beat upon the Dragon's back until the beast carried him higher and higher still. But the Moon never grew closer.
The Dragon continued to climb, even when the Fool quit pounding against his scales. He flew as high as he had ever gone...until Faolian's corpse finally tipped over and tumbled from his back on a long plummet back to the ground.
Sometimes, it is better to be Broken than willingly be the Fool.
Acnologia (Era: The Great Disaster)
The black and blue dragon soared untold heights above the mages, his sight able to pinpoint each and every thing happening below him. Letting the loudest roar out he could, he divedbombed the battlefield, taking one mage by suprise as he landed ontop of him, killing him instantly. Swinging his gigantic tail about and decapitating another while opening his maw to intercept a flame spell, mixing it with his own very breath and exhaling with full force, obliterating close to twenty mages at once that were unlucky enough to be in the blast radius. Another roar escaping his gaping maw as he got caught by a small lightning spell. His sights setting on the caster, not giving him any chance in hell as he dug his talons into the mans chest, literally ripping him in half at the spine and tossing the two halves into two other mages.
Blood now soaking him aswell as the smell of burnt corpses filling his nostrils, a nostalgic smell since the last time he was in the middle of a war, the last one being the dragon war. Instincts kicking in as he didnt even have to turn around as he impaled another on the tip of his tail, swinging it around violently hearing the mans cries of agony as he brings him around and devours him, bones and all. Mages now getting the picture and starting to back away from him but he wouldnt let them. Having seen what a war of magic could do to a realm and didnt want to see it happen again. Roaring again as he fires another plume of flames at the retreating mages, catching another ten in the aftermath, scorching them to no recognition.
By some stroke of luck, he was struck in the right eye by a ice sickle, blinding him in that eye for the rest of his days. Roaring in pain he picked the man up by wrapping his tail around his neck, with a swift jerk he snaps his spine in half and hurls his body high into the air where it landed with a thump and rolled downhill like a ragdoll. Catching something out the corner of his good eye got him abit irritated, a small boy on the battlefield. Growling from the depths of his gut , he charges towards him. taking him up within his talons and flying off just as abruptly as he had appeared. Taking the child to the volcano he called home.
Giving the child who said he had no name, the name Natsu.
Teaching the young boy in everything he could, from human language to flame magic. Shocked when he first saw the transformation the boy was hiding. deciding then and there to train him as not a mage, but as a dragon. Soon after the boys 12th year of age, he suddenly flew off, leaving him to fend for himself after giving him everything he could think of that would help Natsu in the ages to come.
Leaving the boy with something he always said.
"The Wind Is Free
*Many sources used throughout this history were derived from this historical timeline for reference.
Copyright © 2014, Mystic Worlds RPG/Varlonan RPG by Jessimi G., All Rights Reserved.