The Chosen and The Fae

Interlude: The Twelve Saints of Sanduine.

This is a tale of Faeries, of humans, of iron and blood. It is not happy, there is no clear winning party, for each lost irreplaceable and priceless things. A Pyrrhic victory, if you will.

However, we shall still begin this tale in the traditional fashion...

Once upon a time,

In the beginning, the beginning of life for all things, the Faeries and the humans were peaceful. They lived amongst each other, laughed with each other. It was this way for many years. Peace and plenty, happiness. 

It was not to last.

They could not ignore their differences for long. 

The Fae were stronger, faster, gifted in magics beyond the humans understanding. The humans, in time, felt cheated by the gods. They called upon them, begging for them to be brought to the level of Fae. The gods answered. They gathered together and linked arms. THen they began to cry, and their tears were molten magic, falling from their eyes and down unto the gathered humans. 

It was painful, to say the least, and some did not survive. For every ten humans, one could now use magic. The humans were not entirely appeased, but they accepted the gods gift with remarkably little grumbling. The Fae did not approve of their gods decision; they were angered by the humans going behind their back, and yes, a large amount of their fury was fueled by pettiness. Previously, they had been special, now they were ordinary. And so they fell upon the humans with swords and teeth bared, cutting them to pieces. 

It was brutal and animalistic, and the humans were not prepared. Quickly they gathered their remaining forces and forged iron weapons cooled in the blood of their fallen comrades, and they fought back. Those of them with magic were now prized commodities and protected at all costs. Still, very few of them survived the years of war ahead of them. At the end of four years, four years of blood and carnage, hatred and endless funeral pyres, the only remaining humans gifted with magic banded together to form the Twelve Saints of Sanduine. Their leader and namesake, Sanduine, was more powerful than all of them put together, but even he knew that the humans would not last another year of war. And so he proposed a plan. 

Take all of the lands of the world and cleave them in two with a magical barrier. Put the fae, and all of their magical creatures and monsters, and put them on one side,

The humans on the other. They would forever be at war, and forever divided.

It tooks weeks of preparation. The Saints fasted the whole week approaching the ordeal, and had the builders among the humans build two large pillars to mark the one and only gateway. This gateway would allow entrance to the Faeries lands, but only on the humans side. It was meant as a sort of maintenance gate, incase the other side of the barrier needed fixing.

The Saints gathered by the pillars, clasped onto each other tightly, and channeled their power into the pillars. All of the Fae, camped within the area around the border, were trapped as the magical border began to spread around them, cleaving the world in two. It took three days to finish, and by the time the ordeal was done, the Saints were dead. Their lively bodies sucked dry of magic, leaving them husks and corpses. And even then, the gate was flawed. It would allow passage into the Faeries lands, but it would not allow anything to pass back into the humans land. 

The war was over, but all traces of magic had gone with it.

Or so they thought...

The twelfth member of the Saints, Aleksandee, a short woman known for her even shorter temper, was with child when the Saints gathered to create the border. By some miracle of the gods, the child survived, though all but a drop of magic was sucked from the child as well. Aleksandee's husband. who waited by her side through all of the three days of the border's creation, cut the child out of his wife's corpse, tears streaming down his face the whole while. 

But the child did survive. And grew to adulthood and had a child, who had a child, who had a child. That last child, though she did not know it at the time, was the last human alive with even a drop of magic in her blood. And that magic would come, in time, to save her life.

I will assume that most everyone here has already guessed this last child's name, this child from a long, long line of children, but I will still tell you.

Quietly, softly, whispered gently into your eagerly awaiting ear.

Alvera.

******Author's Note******

YAY! IT'S HERE! A DAY LATE BUT STILL!

I know it's a day late (see above), but I had some friends visit from a far away land (ha, it's wisconsin), and then I just got distracted. Sorrrrrrrryyyyy!

Anyway, there's the history of the Border for ya! I'm weirdly attached to Aleksandee, even though she had like literally one paragraph of word-time. By the way, I imagine her husband as Eddie Redmayne, so. (NOTE: This is not influenced by the fact that I'm watching Fantastic Beasts right now. Not at all.)

Yup, Alvera has some magic blood, and that will be very big later on *wink wink nudge nudge* but I won't spoil anything, my lovelies :D

So anyhoo, don't forget to

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