A race gathers, in a kingdom vast

Mana wild and free

The world tortured, a King torn

Tween his duty and belief

From his seat of power, the king will devour

All that his eyes see

On his death, for the world saved,

A new age comes to be

A dark and sorrowful sun rose on the remnants of a civilisation in the throes of death.

The kingdoms ruler and the last living of his race, took flight over the greatest city this world had ever known. In the many years leading up to this moment, he had never once seen the beauty in so many of his kind living so closely together. That was why the end was upon this world. His race was cursed with an abundance of mana, causing the laws of nature to twist and deform themselves to their will. Something had to be done to stop this abuse of power. To stop the cries of a world being torn apart. As the king of such a people, it was his duty to put things right. To ensure the continuation of this world, he had carried out the beginning of a prophecy that foretold of the worlds healing. He’d taken no pleasure in killing the many innocents that lived under his rule. But such an act had to be carried out.

He consoled himself with the knowledge of the prophecy. the knowledge that this course would put things right. If his kind continued to live upon this world, it would be destroyed by the shear amount of mana they possessed. There were already signs of this happening. Mountains were being torn from the ground to be left floating in the skies. Oceans being lifted up like walls of water, still holding ships to its surface. The king hoped no more of these things would happen with the end of his race. No longer would the fear and hatred of his people ruin this world, causing many others to war with his kingdom, for they would no longer be.

As the dark sun rose past the tallest spire, the king let loose his magic of destruction. So powerful was his manipulation of mana, a distortion in the air and the ruins of the castle's tallest parapets was all that remained of the great kingdom; of vast towers reaching into the sky; of a castle so grand no other race could hope to match its magnificence. Tears began to fall from the king’s eyes, torment over the blood on his hands taking control of his emotions, as everything he’d known disappeared from this world. The prophecy now in motion.

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***

The air, heavy with the smell of blood. The sky, dark inside the storm. As lightning flashed, the silhouette of a giant, winged beast could be seen through the darkness.

***

The caravan Ben was traveling with had been utterly destroyed in the short time it took for him to relieve himself, a few trees away from the path. Now he was hurrying home to take cover from the sudden storm and to evade whatever monstrosity could rain fire from the heavens. The smell of blood and fire were thick enough to have him choking on nearly every breath.

Have the dragons returned, Ben thought, the only accounting of such devastation, coming from texts older than the mana storms, were of the ancient dragons turning whole kingdoms to ash. He thought he'd seen something that resembled the pictures contained in the texts he'd studied, which only added to his fear and paranoia, as he travelled through the forest.

Breaking from the trees, he stumbled into a small clearing. Small clearings were common within the large forest, with larger clearings being used for villages and the largest used for the elven cities. This clearing, however, wasn't common at all.

"Well, would ya look at that," Ben breathed upon seeing the many small, purple spots of light drifting up from the ground, creating a path out of the clearing. Purple lights drifting up from the ground? Definitely not common.

Ben, being a curious dwarf and shocked out of his fear induced flight, followed the winding path of lights through the forest, figuring they would lead him to... well, somewhere. The combination of rain and lights became an eerie, dark purple fog, almost as if the path was made of luminescent shadows. As he ran on through the storm and darkness, Ben lost all sense of direction and time. He couldn't remember ever running for so long before, especially without a clear destination.

After what seemed to be many weeks, potentially even months, Ben found himself in a clearing completely lit by the floating purple lights. The storm raged on outside of the clearing, not a single drop of rain daring to pass beyond the tree line and, oddly, as soon as he entered the clearing, Ben felt at ease, an almost serene feeling washing over him. The lights seemed to move in a circular fashion, creating a vortex, the focal point a large bulbous tree situated in the centre of the clearing. Entranced by the sight, Ben followed the lights as they spiralled around the base of the tree. On the opposite side of the tree, the lights twisted in close to it's base, towards the centre of an intricately carved arch.

There, nestled between some roots that formed the base of the arches legs, was a baby; and at second glance, Ben realised that the floating lights weren't converging on the arch, but instead, on the child. Faintly, as the lights were absorbed by the child, the bottom of the arch began to glow with the same eerie light.

As time passed, the light continued to move up the arches legs, reaching for the dark gem nestled at the top. As the wisps of light reached for the gem, a flash of brilliant white blinded Ben. Blinking the spots out of his eyes and as the child began to cry, a white visage bowed down and rested her lips upon the baby's brow.