Freedom is not something that anybody can be given. Freedom is something people take, and people are as free as they want to be. - James Baldwin

  To my family and friends, who gave me the courage to embark on this journey.

  The Promises

  I

  When one is sworn to the Black, one is forever placed in Her service.

  II

  When one is sworn to the Black, one must take life.

  III

  When one is sworn to the Black, one shall never take life with pleasure.

  IV

  When one is sworn to the Black, one must preserve the balance.

  V

  When one is sworn to the Black, one must love life.

  VI

  When one is sworn to the Black, one must respect death.

  VII

  And when one is sword to the Black, one must remember the Creed:

  We are the Children of the Black.

  We are the Messengers of Her word.

  We are silent. We are mighty.

  We do not fear.

  For we will die.

  - The Oath of the Children

  A multitude of millennia ago was the beginning of the world, where the Great Father and Great Mother took a handful of insurmountably cosmic power and simply crushed it together to form the world which we live on.

  With their Essence, the purest form of the arcane magic that grows from reality and possibility, our world was formed in fire, water, earth, air, hope and shadow…

  With their work done and having spent all their Essence in this final act, the Great Father and Great Mother faded into the Void of Oblivion, leaving the overseeing of the new creation in the hands of their children: The Light and the Black. Together, the Light and the Black formed the sea, the sky and the land. It was a silent and perfect world. Devoid of life. Devoid of anything.

  However, the Light saw the need for beauty in a world that seemed so barren and desolate to them. So, first to come were the flora; grand, glorious plants and trees that covered the world’s land in an expansive surge of natural bounty.

  The Light was proud of their work.

  But seeing the imbalance of such unencumbered foliage, the Black saw the need to invoke creatures to stem the green tide. Thus came the creatures whose sole sustenance would only be the grass and plants. Invertebrates, vertebrates, molluscs and microscopic creatures came and ate away at the green. The world was beautiful, filled with life but not smothered by the green.

  The Black was content of their part.

  But the Light saw more work needed in these new things that the Black had brought forth. The Light saw untapped potential and opportunity. So the Light willed the new creatures the instinct to procreate. Thus their numbers grew and they began to overcrowd the planet, much like the plants had done before.

  The Black, now irritated by its sibling’s consistent meddling, sought to put a stop to this by willing the creatures to hunt and devour one another. But despite the natural bloodshed that flowed, not even that could stem the growing tide of overpopulation of flora and fauna.

  The Black decided to form a creature that could be the strongest hunter, forager and living being in the world. The Humanoid.

  The humanoids, the first of their two-legged kind, were a savage race. They battled with eachother and slaughtered hundreds of the creatures that were weaker than them. And when they could not kill enough of the creatures, they turned their ire upon the non-humanoids who had deviated from the first humanoids and developed over the thousands of years of life. Even humanoids turned against other humanoids. A war of races erupted.

  The Light and the Black watched the mutual genocides unfold before them with great horror. Unwittingly, the cosmic siblings had wrought an evil upon their world. The Evil of Violence.

  Sickened by this chaos, the Black raised slowly their hand to smite the world utterly of life and to start again. But the Light stayed its sibling’s hand.

  They stopped and watched with their sibling as a pair of humanoids met. A male and a female. The Black assumed that they would kill eachother, like the thousands had done before. But they dropped their weapons of wood and stone.

  The Black next assumed that the Male would take the Female by force, as so many of the lustful creatures had also done. But they took eachother’s hands, embraced, then gently coupled in an act of simple, purest love. The Black looked to its sibling who stared back in surprise. They made no such influence on the lovers.

  The siblings watched on as the humanoid mates bore children. Wondrous, kind and obedient children. The first Humans…

  Other humanoids and non-humanoids in various pockets around the world began doing the same. And soon, the peace that the siblings sought for had begun without their involvement.

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  Humans and Non-Humans (later to be known as ‘Fey’) finally came to be…

  The Light and the Black knew then. They had a new job to perform. They were there to watch. Not to intervene. But only to watch. For being a enabling guardian would be a foolish thing indeed…

  Thousands of years rolled by. The world was fully formed and life flourished. The many species of creatures pulled themselves back from extinction and rejuvenated. Peace came and stayed. Life arrived and Death culled afterwards. The balance was preserved.

  However…

  Despite the Black’s admonishments and the vital lesson that they had learned, the Light continually visited the world they had made, in the guise of a hermit, to see what stories had been created. The Light had developed a hunger for tales. For it was the Light that enjoyed the recognition and care they devoted to the Humans and the creatures that grew from the soil.

  Changelings, a divergent Fey race, called the Light ‘Father Terra’. The Humans referred to the Light as ‘Mother of All’ or the ‘Torchbearer’. Other Non-Human races like the Satyrs, Nosferati, and others had names for the Light. All were wrong, and yet all were right. The Light took all names and loved the creatures with dearest care.

  In appreciation of this love, the Light foolishly imparted a small, yet powerful gift to the creatures. A single drop of Essence, each for the races of the world, from a cut in their hand. Magic had been imparted to the world. Life was now sustained by magic and Death was no longer a fear to be had.

  The Black did not go with their sibling to bask in the awe of the creatures. The Black saw no need for such triviality. They were content with their role and placed themselves in imposed anonymity. Of course, the Black was deeply angered by their sibling’s actions when they saw no more deaths occurring.

  The siblings were supposed to stand back and watch their world evolve without intervention. To be impartial beings, not involved deities. The Light ignored this agreement and look what had transpired. The Black saw the problem arise once again. The balance had been titled. Immortality was being invoked. With their Essence, so stupidly given away by the Light, Humans and the Fey now had a shred - a fragment - of the power wielded by them. This could have led the races into falsely believing that they had the strength and power of a god.

  They would lose the respect of life that they had been given.

  This could not stand.

  With their patience broken, the Black summoned nearly all their darkest Essence, pouring all their anger, frustration and malice against the Light and, in doing so, created the Denigrations.

  A horde of merciless, bloodthirsty demons, bestowed with darkest Essence and cursed with bloodshot eyes. Their souls were wracked with doubt, pain, despair, rage, lust, cruelty, envy and covetousness… and a concrete sense of finality and balance.

  The Black unleashed the Denigrations upon the world, seeking to wipe out the sycophants of the Light. Seeking to destroy the world that they had created. Seeking to teach the Light a valuable lesson. Seeking to end it all, once and for all.

  The Light, horrified upon seeing their sibling’s malicious act, panicked and in their responding anger to the Black, they cast nearly all their brightest Essence into forming the Aged Ones.

  The Aged Ones were a throng of light; ageless spirits, bestowed with eyes of pearl. Their souls were filled with courage, fortitude, hope, forgiveness, love, trust, generosity and compassion… and an unshaken belief in ultimate justice and extreme measures.

  The Light let the Aged Ones fly down to safeguard the children of the world.

  When that was done, the Light turned to the Black. The Aged Ones faced the Denigrations.

  And all clashed in the cosmos and on the earth.

  The Moral Fracture had begun.

  The world cracked and turned with the sky folding in on itself and Humanity, only on the cusp of coming out from the caves they had dwelled in were already on the verge of being exterminated.

  Denigration battled Aged One in a titanic world war, fought over by the Black and the Light. Oceans boiled. Mountains rose from the ground. Volcanos screamed. Thunder snapped the skies in twain. Hurricanes ripped forests from the roots. With all of life caught in the middle, there seemed to be little hope for the world to survive.

  But a group of Fey and Humans, armed with the knowledge of the arcane, came together - be good or bad - from all corners of the earth. Humans, Changelings, Satyrs, Nosferati, Lycans, Dwarves, Orcs, Goblins, Gremlins, Fairies and many more. Every person, from adult to child who could wield the Essence, was called upon and every person from every race answered. They all rallied together in the final days of the war.

  This impossibly eclectic army were known as the Sorcerers.

  Together, the Sorcerers united against both the Aged Ones and the Denigrations - equally holding both to blame for the war - and attacked the two armies in a final battle. Both the Light and the Black ceased their own private war in the stars to watch in further shock as the Humans and the Fey fought against the denizens of Balance. It was a bloody fight. Hundreds of thousands died on all sides.

  But against all the odds, against the overwhelming evils of the Denigrations and the relentless goods of the Aged Ones, the Humans and Fey triumphed.

  Using the magic of the Essence, the Sorcerers drove the Denigrations down into a portal of blood, into a formed realm of their own and sealed the doorway forever. The Aged Ones were also banished from existence, thrown into the star-beams of distant suns in the cosmos and to be trapped there for all time.

  The world’s people had won. But a great cost. The Sorcerers, using their power in such a great extent and measure, all perished from the exhaustion. With all the magic users dead, magic itself was erased from the world.

  Magic faded away, as did the Fey.

  So connected to the magic, they saw no desire to enjoy a world amongst the Humans. So one day, on a day like any other, they disappeared from sight and were never seen again. Humans and the animals - magical and otherwise - were the only living beings left on the traumatised planet.

  However, there have been whispers of magic surviving in the world as of recent days. In the form of people from all walks of life bearing a ‘mark’ upon their flesh, and therefore be called the ‘Marked’. I can say with certainty that these rumours are true…

  The Light and the Black once again were given the same conclusion, they were there to watch. And this time, the siblings held true to this. So sickened by the violence wreaked by their interventions, their feet never marked the soil or ocean and were never heard from again.

  But the damage was already done. Humanity and Fey-Kin were aware of the gods that battled in the sky above them. Religions for both were formed and societies based upon their interpretations of the siblings were established. Even cults and organisations were born from the Morality Fracture. In fact, the Morality Fracture was so great and monstrous that it rewrote history and the years that chronicled the times it kept. Before the Morality Fracture, nothing much was remembered. Such was the devastation that nearly all knowledge was wiped out. And so it was to be forgotten. That olden age was to be called the Fractured Years. I only was able to assemble what I have written through folktales and religious scripture.

  Now a Second Age had arrived.

  And so on Time went, with Life and Death in hand. A thousand years on led to the creation of borders, forming countries, continents and civilisations throughout the world. Cities rose from the ashes of the old. Stories were formed from the myths and legends passed down from grandparents to their grandchildren and their grandchildren’s grandchildren.

  In the year 1200 of the Second Age, a king was coronated in my home country of Dargania of the continent now called Peteshko. This first King of Dargania swiftly formed his empire with a league of good men and women to guide his rule. Under his watchful eye, counties were formed for royally appointed Barons to oversee the land when the king could not.

  This Feudal system was intended to be a long term solution to the usual strife of the people being overseen by a single person when all were content being governed by themselves. This way, the ruling family would be in command but supported by loyal people who fought for them. And it did work for a time. The country prospered for more than half a millennia.

  But in the year 1883, a military coup - formed by disgruntled Barons seeking more power than that was promised to them - led an assault on the throne city, Fennaposia. The boy king Yorick Dargan was removed from his throne and held captive as a puppet king. The Barons then swiftly killed all those who stood against them, imprisoned many more and installed their own form of leadership.

  An Oligarchy. Where the power of one nation would be handled by a group of elite members of noble birth, wealth, military might or religious fervour. And the people would obey them or suffer their wrath.

  To further remove the freedom and individualism of the plebeians, the Barons enforced a new societal law: the last name of a Darganian would forever be derived from their profession. You are now identified by your role to supply your rulers with income.

  Your family name is forgotten, forever. I suffered such a fate.

  For seventeen long years since that brutal day, we have lived under the heel of the Barons. Dargania is now in an iron grip. In a constant state of political flux, further hindered by the backstabbing, deceit, assassinations and bribery.

  Corruption eats through the country like gangrene.

  The stability of my country is in dire straits. As a Darganian, I weep for my home.

  The Royal Family are gone. Some say that they fled to the neighbouring state of Tashiish, a principality who held good regard for the Darganians. Some also say that the family were all executed in the first night of the coup while others swear that they are still held captive in their own castle after all these years… It is only hearsay at this point whether or not they are truly alive.

  It is this that I say with a grave tone: I wish that the Light and the Black would come to us to right the balance. For there is indeed an imbalance to the world. I wish that the balance be brought to bear upon the Barons, for them to suffer the consequences of their avarice. But that is the wish of an old man, who’s soul lives in the past.

  But Life moves on. I must move with it as I write these thoughts down. People survived and thrive. Homes were burnt, but are now rebuilt.

  Businesses fail and then flourish. Life is good for some of us. But not for others…

  ~ An Excerpt from A Myth of Dargania by Archibald Scribe ~