Listen to Oumma, little warriors, and learn the history of our people.
Long ago, our people did not till the earth. Instead, they soared through the air, penetrated the oceans, and cracked the secrets of the mountains. They walked with spirits and commanded the weather itself. (Wake up, Goodi, this is important!) Back then, the Empty Heaven was filled with Immortals, and our people spoke with them as equals in power, and visited them in their wondrous home.
But then, in their arrogance, our people built the magespires, (I said wake up Goodi!) and with their power, tried to usurp the throne of Heaven itself. They flung the power of their towers at each other, at heaven and earth, and the world shook for generations. Eventually the Immortals, in their mercy, flung the usurpers down and crushed them against the rocks of the earth, never to rise again.
Yes Hanfu, we do still use the magics of our ancestors. Yes, their mixtures heal our sick and their swords defend our homes, but our ancestors also made the living dead men, the Passon of Storms, and the metal giants of the north that eat the flesh of the wicked. (Not your flesh, Hanfu, you’re a good girl. Goodi, however, would be eaten in a second.) No, Not everything they made was horrible, little warriors. But you see that, there? On the horizon? That’s a magespire. The departed gods left them there as a testament to us, to remind us of the folly of our ancestors and the dangers of their arrogance.
And, little warriors, have you ever looked that way on a cold, clear night? Sometimes, when the moon is right, you can still see the fires blaze atop that magespire. Who knows? Perhaps even now someone sits at its top, trying to unlock its secrets and destroy the world once again, raining fire and death upon the earth and all who live there!
No, don’t bother dear, he’s perfectly fine. I’m sure Goodi only squealed and ran because he forgot his hatchet somewhere.
The world is broken. The mages of the last world destroyed it in their zeal for power. Now heaven is closed, hell is gone, Farie is dead, and mad constructs ravage the land, but the inhabitants of the world must still erk out a living in this world ravaged by magic.
And over it all, the magespires still loom.