When the elves' faith in Vastal, the Goddess of Life, faded in their
hubris, Zikhon, the God of Death, swept past Her failing defences and
destroyed them overnight. But the faith the subjugated humans held in
Vastal gave Her strength enough to fight Him back and save them alone, and to
this day She holds the jealous god at bay. But should their faith wane
in arrogance or neglect, the same fate will befall them.
As the Craitic Temple has taught for 700 years.
Magic found its way into the hands of the elves by Vastal. She grew so very fond of them that She gifted them each some small glimmer of Her power, perfectly shaping it to their physiology. They were grateful, and they used their magic with nobility, building homes for those unable and ever greater monuments to Her strength and beauty. But in time, as is inevitable of those with power, they grew selfish, concerned with permanence, status and possession, and they lost their way. They crafted for themselves opulent homes, ostentatious pass-times, and subjugated the humans they had once lived beside and watched grow.
Their priorities changed. Their culture changed. Their faith changed.
Then, one day, they were no more.
Humans rose in their stead, seizing the world they'd left behind without any question, the world they'd been forced to toil in for the benefit of another, and turned their skills to use. They quickly filled the elves' shoes and revived the lost faith.
But the magic had not been lost. It had found its way, through love or depravity, into human blood, though those few that bore it could scarcely use it. Only by concentration and utter focus of one's mind could it be utilised, and so the use of finger signs were born, aiding in the shaping of spells and intent and preventing the attention from wandering.
When the wounds of history had healed, the young, knowing nothing but ill tales of their past masters, turned to marvelling at the structures that surrounded them, the twisting towers and gilded archways, and when they began asking questions none alive could answer, the Historical Society was established. From here, humans began to learn of the elves and their lives before their magic, for some of their monuments and homes still stood, and a new understanding was formed. Greed was not born, but made, and the same would befall them should the extremity of their habits find its way into the human world.
But while lessons were to be learned of the past, new problems were
born in their place. The age-old mistrust of their former masters hadn't
died, and those that possessed magic were looked upon with increasing
caution. As with anything that was not understood nor in the abilities
of all, magic was feared, and the worry that mages might try to assert
themselves as the rightful rulers drove some peoples and cultures to
shun magic. Others, more trusting, allowed its wary practice, and others
saw it purely as a means of protecting themselves from the magic of
other nations.
And so the divides and borders grew wider across the lands than they had ever been under the rule of elves, and humans began to suspect one another. Wars broke out, monarchs kept secrets, and the division within their countries grew greater. The growing suspicion led to the need for spies, to watch and listen and discover their neighbour's plots - and even, in some cases, force their hand to lure them into a disadvantage. Politics blossomed alongside poverty, and the world became a darker place.
But the elves had left a reminder of their downfall. A reminder that now ravages the world regardless of a country's wealth, allegiance, perspective or prudence.
A reminder to be exploited by the desperate.
And so the divides and borders grew wider across the lands than they had ever been under the rule of elves, and humans began to suspect one another. Wars broke out, monarchs kept secrets, and the division within their countries grew greater. The growing suspicion led to the need for spies, to watch and listen and discover their neighbour's plots - and even, in some cases, force their hand to lure them into a disadvantage. Politics blossomed alongside poverty, and the world became a darker place.
But the elves had left a reminder of their downfall. A reminder that now ravages the world regardless of a country's wealth, allegiance, perspective or prudence.
A reminder to be exploited by the desperate.
An introduction to the world of The Devoted trilogy.
Great Western Woods' podcast team recently hosted World Building Quest, where
a daily prompt aided writers in the process of building a world for
their fiction. Since I'm so deep into the world of The Devoted trilogy, I
decided to use it as an opportunity to hone what I had as well as
present the world itself to readers.
I compiled the 30 days' posts as weekly instalments on my blog:
