The Tomb of Den Divzar

Chapter Five: The War of Doomed Magic

Myrian the Doomed: King of magic, fallen of the cosmos, magician of Azora, architect of the eight towers, keeper of the council of nine, knower of secrets, dream-caller, star-seeker, and breaker of the vault. Before even the first stone had been laid in the west there lived a group of tribes in the east known as the Dend. A simple folk, they followed the herds of bo across the wandering plains and ate of the wild succor that the land did provide. Among them were eight great chieftains who ruled over the wandering tribes. War was common, but the land provided for them all nonetheless. Though there came many years in which prosperity did not provide.

There came a day when the great chieftains gathered as they did at the end of the hard winter season every year. The eight gathered in the center of the wandering plains, later known as Arneria, on a great stone they called Aro. On this day when the chieftains met there was a crash from the sky and falling from the stars above came the indescribable figure of Myrian. The great wizard fell upon the great stone, but his form was not of this world. His body was made of cosmic dust and his breath was like that of the solar winds. They told him of their wars and their troubles as the land had provided for them less each year. Myrian did not understand these things, as death was unknowable to a being like him. He promised to teach them each a piece of his power so that they might make death unknowable as he did. On the Aro that day Myrian conjured from the stone a great city and the name of that city was Azora. Around the city he placed a seal and told the eight that only when they had each learned one of his lessons and could work as one could they unseal the great city. Only once his eight pieces were together would they have his power. So it was, Myrian divided himself into eight forms who each went with the chieftains to the heart's of their lands. In those hearts, Myrian raised eight great towers and around them sprung up cities from the people of each land. The lessons that Myrian taught to each made them powerful beyond their wildest dreams, and the places where the great wizard walked all were given power over the world. The people ate well and easily, no longer worrying about hardship in ways of hunger and strife. After many years Myrian gathered the eight chieftains together and combined his pieces of eight back into himself. The chieftains used their powers and cast away the seal of Azora and the great city lifted off the ground. From this place they could rule all the wandering plains, ensuring its safety from above. Myrian gathered together the chieftains in the city and showed them the chamber he had made for them. He told them that they were chieftains no more, but the Council of Nine and they would settle their differences here. Azora would rule over all the wandering plains, but the Council of Nine would rule over Azora. The Council would be chosen every year of the greatest mages in their respective lands, and to ensure the sanctity of the choice, Myrian left a piece of his wisdom in each tower which would select the councilors every one hundred years. Many years passed and it seemed the golden age of the eight towers would never end.

Many years after and concerning a tale far too long to mention, Myrian had disappeared, leaving all his students alone. Using Myrian's wisdom and the magic he had gifted them, the mages carried on. Their realm had grown to a prosperous health under Myrian's watchful eye and the council which had heard the wizard's final words led the people with wisdom and grace. Understanding for the mysteries of Myrian's magic grew and the bounty of the land from which Myrian had gifted them did not falter. The magician's departure was saddening, yes, but the people pressed on and remembered his words. Together, with his teachings, they formed the pieces of eight that made Myrian whole, and as long as the land remained united his being would live on through them.

Across the waters of the frozen Sea of Nen, a dark threat brewed. The northmen of the mountains had grown jealous of the wealth and magic of the wandering plains and sought to take that which Myrian had gifted them. On the night of the winter's solstice a host of warriors sailed across the Sea of Nen, thereafter known as the Sea of Tears in remembrance, and attacked the Tower White. Though the tower's magic was powerful it was not a tool of war and the people there had long since forgotten the ways of battle. The mages tried desperately to defend themselves with their spells of calculation, but theirs was a magic of numbers and knowledge, not of battle and power. The city burned, the mages sealed their tower until the raiders passed on. News spread abroad, and the wizards of every tower quickly began applying their spells to uses of death. The closest lands, the Tower Silver, responded in rage. As the warriors of the north burned a path of blood through the north of the wandering plains, the waking dreamers of the Silver Tower journeyed to meet them. A battle ensued in which the northmen faced the unexplainable dream magic of the somnomancers, the likes of which they had never seen, and were turned away back to the boats which had carried them over the sea. The warriors were cowed, but even still the taste of blood was in the mouths of every mage, especially when the councilor of the Tower White heard the news. A host of magicians of every tower amassed at the shore of the Sea of Tears and with their magic turned hostile they sailed on the flying ships of the Tower White to exact their revenge. With this marks the true beginning of the War of Doomed Magic.