Before time began, when Earth was still new and fertile to new life and new ideas, good and evil still warred there. The land was pockmarked by vicious battles between those of the Underworld and those of the Light, diseased by the hoards of bodies piling on the green pastures. The Goddess did was she could to envelope the dead in her bosom and dispose of them neatly, taking them back into her embrace or casting the demonic back to their unruly and ungracious beginnings in the dark hearts of man. The resurrection of evil was unstoppable, for to unleash the demons to the air would cause havoc as they took on the solid forms of their hosts. The destruction across the land was endless, but grew only greater still when the Dark Lord, a human possessed by countless demons who went by the name Desmon uttered a spell to hinder the great Goddess, leaving her dwindling and dying in what is now modern day Italy. A great darkness spread over the land as T’sar, God of the Moon, Sun and Time itself, grieved in his inability to find his companion. Still, night and day went on as he fulfilled his duty to her while searching from the sky. Those of the Light, strange beings both half-man and half-beast, were spiritually stronger than their human brethren, and their minds were untouched by the demons that stalked the night. They bared their souls against their attackers, defending each temple to the last. In the daylight, they flourished and beat their opponents back into the darkest places of the land in victory. But by nightfall, the men emerged from their shadowy lairs to attack the temples with full force. One by one, temples for the Goddess fell to ruin and those of the Light were destroyed. Their blood dyed the rivers red, and T’sar cried out as the Goddess’ light dwindled. They all could do naught but feel their life source fading, their Mother falling into the darkness.
On the threshold of the final temple, the human masses stood in shadow, fearful of the light as they watched T’sar dismount the skies and put his tired, fiery steeds to bed. In his grief, he did not notice the despair of his people at the foot of his last temple. He unleashed the ivory lambs to the night and went with them in his silver chariot as the demons charged the golden gates. All appeared lost, those of the Light trembled as they bared their weapons and stood with defiance against their foes. One by one they fell, and the last Priestess watched from her perch in the high tower. There was one final spell that would save and destroy them all; it was their last hope. Magn’la, the last Priestess, raised her staff to the night sky and utter the final incantation spoken on Earth. In an instant, the Goddess and T’sar disappeared from the realm, and all those of the Light fell cold and lifeless to the scarred land.
Using the remaining spirits of the followers, Magn’la was able to borrow power from T’sar and Valesar themselves to create a new realm. It was a spell only she had known, and the Goddess had enlightened the faun with her failing strength only that evening of what must be done. It was the Priestess’ choice; the Goddess could not impose on her such a decision. In this new realm, all was new, and when Valesar, the Goddess, and her companion had regained their strength, they began a time of creation.
