She was 17 and he was 12 when he changed her world forever. Such a strange time gap and such a strange feeling—to be saved by someone so much younger than yourself. It had been a sunny autumn afternoon, the morning chill just starting to fade as the last of the frost melted off of the fallen leaves. Elisha stood at the gate to the village looking out over the surrounding fields, waiting for her father to come home. He was a little late—hunting in the woods from before the dawn rose to provide the meat they would use for dinner—and she was just starting to feel the fringes of worry rise up in her stomach as she looked out towards the edge of the forest for any signs of his presence.
And that's when she heard the bell begin to chime from the other side of the village. She turned alarmed to see the villagers swarming out of their houses to take up arms against whatever threat was approaching. She stood there, frozen for a moment in fright, as the men of the village rushed towards the other gate, the doors and windows to their houses slamming shut behind them as the women worked quickly to barricade themselves indoors. She should have been rushing to her own house as she had trained many times to do ever since she was a little girl, but something kept her there, rooted to that spot as thoughts of her father in the forest, and her dead brothers and uncles and grandparents conflicted with eachother, creating a stalemate in her mind that broached no words.
She saw the men had formed a rough shield wall at the other village gate, and looked over at them as a moment of silence fell as the bellringer rushed to his place behind them. The men murmured commands and exchanges with eachother as they shuffled together trying to tighten their formation, but then suddenly they all fell silent and she felt the steps approaching, shaking the ground with their might.
-The tale of Elisha, Mage's Apprentice
A long time ago and far away two dwarves lived together in a small shed along the side of a mountain. The days were short and the nights were cold, but they endured it all together. Walking the paths along the cliffs, hunting for game and picking wild herbs. It wasn't much of a life, but they made the best of it they could. The seasons passed like sand flowing through an hourglass, steady and hardly noticed. The two lived their lives alongside eachother, working and tending to one another's needs and weaknesses as the occasion arose.
They said afterwards of their time in that shed, that their life there had been like a dream, like a silent prayer held hushed before the world, like a river in passing, gone before you can press it to your chest, before you can even hold it in the brief span of your attention. And the days that came after were all horror and terror and blood, and in some way they knew after all of it, that there was no going back to what they had known.
It is said by the sages that though all of the children of the gods are sentient, only humans were awakened to the horror of choice. It is said that it runs in their blood like a curse—the awareness that they can depart from the will of life into the madness of evil. But even if the other children of the gods—dwarves, elves, beastfolk, akuma, and the like are born free from the awareness of evil, that does not mean they always stay that way. In each of their kind the power lies latent in them to be awoken to the true nature of choice, and the terrible possibilities that lie at the hands of every sentient race. And even if they are unaware of their freedom, that does not mean their actions are always righteous—for the will of life and the will of sentience are two separate things, and the light of rationality will always find shadows that the gloom of nature never illuminated. That is the reason, they say, that Oros, father of man, gave the light of reason to his children, allowing them freedom from the bonds of fate to choose their own way in the world. But the other gods doubted his decision, and hated him for the harm his children wrought upon the world, and so in time he was cast out of the realm of the gods and became fallen. And the wickedness of humans only grew on the face of the earth until the Great War came to extinguish the light of their dominion.
This was the terrible current that swept those two lonesome dwarves up into the fate of the world, that took them up from their hard but pleasant dreaming into a world of blood and terror, into the hands of the world. And this, now, is their story.
-Two Dwarves: a tale of the Great War
I sit on the Throne of Oceans and yet all I can do for the world is watch it burn. The fire of the humans spreads like a cancer from their sprawling cities as they take up the torch to everything we have built. I sit on the Throne of Oceans as one of the founding powers of the world, mother of spirits, wielder of the unseen, and yet to help my children I am all but powerless in the face of the children of Oros. I am the daughter of Fate and the lord of storms, and yet what use are storms to children who have learned to weather them? What can Fate do to those who have learned to defy her? Oros broke the rules of this world, and we all are paying the price, but what use are those bound to Fate against those who raise the flag of war against her? I sit on the Throne of Oceans and I cannot move, for I uphold the balance, but of what use is the Throne of Oceans against those for whom balance means nothing?
So what choice did I have, but to summon another to help? What use could I have been to the world, to my children, if I did not use every tool in my arsenal, if I did not set aside my pride and consideration to ask another for help, even, if it must be, forcefully. In a world where the threads of fate are beginning to come unspun, what choice did I have, but to summon one who might have the power to bring them back together?
-Journal of Mjelgra, Mistress of the Seas
Not much is known of the Mage Hero's past. Where he came from or what his life was like before he entered our world. What we do know is that he was summoned here by Mjelgra, Goddess of the Seas, by a great feat of magic. On the day of his birth in the city of Mjorln a great light went up in a pillar over the ocean that they said could be seen even to the Ivory Coast. Great omens were seen that day by the prophets, and the sacrifices of the priests all turned black and burned to ash before they met the fire. They say the earth trembled as he left his mother's womb, and that he did not cry, but looked up at the midwife with glittering, intelligent eyes, the weight of past lives already heavy on his brow.
He cast his first spell when he was only a week old, and nearly burned his crib to ashes, yet when they took him from the flames he was completely unharmed and even laughed with delight at the magic he had performed. Word of his renown soon spread as the omens surrounding his birth were parsed, and the priests and prophets seeking the prophesied hero soon found the prodigy who was already showing the first glimmers of his potential.
Born the child of Sophia and Walter Averis, 2nd Earls of Mjorln, in the kingdom of Evercrest, William Averis was already set for a life of wealth and status. Growing late in her fertile years William's mother, Sophia, had offered increasingly extravagant sacrifices to Mjelgra, patron God of Mjorln as well as Avesta, mistress of the earth, and goddess of fertility. If he had only been an ordinary child William Averis would have been loved and cherished as his parent's only child and inherited a bountiful and prosperous port city upon his father's death. But such was not the will of Mjelgra, and as is the fate of many who share the sea god's blessing his story is as tragic as it is joyful.
-The Mage Hero: a biography
A great white beast like a wolf stood on the other side of the village, towering over the housetops, its teeth bared, its legs bracing for combat. It stood there for a long frozen moment, the image of the terrible beast in the hushed quiet burning itself into the memory of everyone present, before, like a storm arriving, the beast pounced upon the men and the quiet was broken. Shouts and screams of pain rose quickly as the best tore into the ranks of men, blood spurting high into the air staining the silver white fur of the beast red. Elisha's stillness broke too, and without thinking she found herself rushing towards the beast rather than away. When her mind caught up to her feet she stopped, beginning to turn in the opposite direction, but it was already too late.
The men's formation had already been completely shattered and those still with legs to carry them were running off into the woods or the village. All too quickly the beast was there before Elisha, baring its bloodstained teeth as it gazed directly down at her, ready to pounce on her too. And that was when it happened. Coming down from the heavens in a flash of red-white, fire leapt up around the flanks of the great beast. And suddenly standing there between Elisha and the beast was a 12 year old William Averis. The Staff of Canaries and the Robe of Twilight already wrapped around him. With a flick of his staff the earth rose up underneath the best to impale it, but it leapt back suddenly on the defensive for the first time in the battle, its left flank still smouldering with the last sparks of flame. It roared and silver butterflies rose in the air around the mage, but as they swept down at him they fell one by one down onto the earth without effect. He tapped his staff on the ground and began to slowly approach the beast as vines wrapped up all around its legs, ensnaring it to the ground. It pulled and gnashed at the vines in a frenzy, but it was no use as they only continued growing all around the beast, soon clenching its jaws shut. The mage walked up to the head of the beast, now pinned to the ground, its eyes a bloodied frenzy of fear and rage. He whispered something into its ear and then without even making a motion, a spray of blood went up from its neck, spattering his coat and hat as the head of the beast came clean off, the rest of the body collapsing suddenly into stillness. And then, without so much as a glance backwards, the mage walked on into the forest, quickly disappearing amongst the foliage.
-The tale of Elisha, Mage's Apprentice