Before the dawning of the Age of Men, when elves and dwarves still roamed freely, there were no myths, for magic was but reality. Simple magiks, like the shaping of plants and the controlling of the tides were so common that they were considered mundane. It was a time of enlightenment and peace. Because wisdom and insight were the goal of all, personal gain was swallowed up in the pursuit of the greater good.

Rather than fables, the world reveled in rich traditions of lore and legends. Workings of magiks that surpassed the crudeness of everyday use and brought wonder into the world were known as Artifacts. Simply being in the presence of one the great Artifacts could enhance learning and promote growth ten fold. Unfortunately, they brought the greatest evil into the world as well, greed. With a limited sphere of influence, it was impossible for everyone to use the great Artifacts at once, and it became impossible to regulate the usage of the Artifacts without some sort of prioritization. With time, those gleaning insight deemed as the most important, who had increased access to the Artifacts, broke ahead of their peers. Difference in outcome and opportunity buoyed the most fortunate to greater and greater heights over many generations, until eventually, for the first time, the world was divided into classes.

The unchecked growth of knowledge that had persisted for ages came to a crashing halt, like charging cavalry hitting a line of braced pikemen. In their avarice to control all of the great Artifacts, the masters of the age pivoted away from enhancing the world, and chose the path of war. Their efforts were turned towards the mass production of lesser artifacts, mere trinkets compared to their forebearers. Weapons and armor that could make a dwarf’s speed match that of an elf, or bring an elf’s strength into equal standing with a dwarf.

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With armies at their disposal, the warmongers wreaked havoc upon the world. Every sapient being was enlisted over the next two centuries. Brother fought against brother, and friend fought against friend, as the rapacity which had fanned the flames of the war engulfed even the lowliest foot soldier. In a battle that shook the very foundations of the world, the masters unleashed their strongest weapons, sucking the power from their Artifacts in their bid to be victorious, until none remained. Mountains of written knowledge, artifacts of wonder, and traditions of truth were eroded by the one force stronger than magic: time.

When the Age of Man finally commenced, very little of what once was still remained. Weapons that would have been used by the lowliest of soldiers during the great war became the deciding factors in the battles waged by men. Orders and kingdoms were built around each discovered relic. Among those discovered were the song blades, seven swords whose individual strain was enough to change battles, and whose combined harmony was nigh unstoppable. Speed, strength, dexterity, perception, regeneration, and memory: six of the blades enhanced a single aspect of the wielder, making them seem more than paltry mortals. The final sword was the Blade of Melody. Wielded by the blade-bearers’ leader, the one who had discovered the blades and distributed them to his closest friends, the sword combined the power of all six other blades, in addition to making their song audible to all. Rallying together, the blade-bearers prevailed against their enemies, eventually creating the war-torn kingdom of liberty: Cremea.