It's the year seven hundred sixty-five since re-creation.
For more than seven hundred years the races separated from each other (or mostly did so), and prosperred in their own ways. The humans built shelters from wood and reed, then added stones to their contructions, and now, in these days, they build stone walls with wooden roofs. They make tools and weapons of iron, their agriculture grew with every passing month for the last five years. They can do this solely on the fact, they settled on the giant continent's most western shore's great plain, only two weeks of riding from the Elven Empire, which located north-eastern from the Kingdom of Man. This so called kingdom currently has six regions, four cities in each region, with at least five villages per region. The current King, the ruler of these lands is Belzariahn the First. On the King's command, with basic engineering and terraforming, the people of the kingdom re-routed and sub-routed the rivers Defon and Karrakun, to create the agricultural region of Bovarian, in the middle of the kingdom, second closest to the great wall on the east, that separates the kingdom from the outside world. Before I go further, I have to mention the King's Guard. The King's Guard is the most elite soldiers of the Kingdom, chosen specifically with the sole purpose to protect the royal family and castle, and specifically with the Magic they are born with. Since 1 RC (Year 1 Since Re-Creation), or the second forming, the power of the races weakened, if we're talking about magic. Before the Devourer arrived, every single being controlled a different aspect or portion of the God which created them, but now, even if almost everyone is born with different kind of magical affinity, the amount of mana they are born with depends on their bloodline or the sole luck of the person. Meaning, that even if you are born with magic, it's unsure if you can even become a full fledged mage, and not end up as a simple farmer. Those who possess a more powerful affinity or greater amount of mana are sent to the Royal Magic Academy, or to the Army. Even the army uses Mage Warriors, who can use certain spells or magics, but even those are either weak, or they exhaust the user too much. The current world this year takes place, is filled with this. Professional or Strong Mages are rare, the King's Guard are currently the strongest warriors of men, possessing the ability to cancel magics, or absorb them. In this year's sixth month, in the gently warm weather, a horsemen rides from the eastern wall's Great Gate, towards the Royal Palace. He's been on the road for two days. Finally reaching the capital city of Drachian, after the God of Light and Humans, Drachnul, the rider approaches the Castle. Two guards with halberd and clad in iron armor with golden lining stops him by crossing their weapons. Their helmet's visor is closed, their eyes see through a narrow line. Before the rider could speak, a third guard with a two-handed, runed sword on his back comes out from the Guardpost. He opens his visor, to reveal a bit older man, maybe in his late thirtieth, with round beard of black and hint of grey. He looks up on the rider with his green eyes:
- Who are you, and where do you think you're going?
The rider grabs his cloak, which was in a deeper tone of scarlet red, showing the middle of it to the guard. The guard looks on the sewn symbol in the middle of the cloak, which looks like a gate in a shield's shape.
- From the Great Gate? Something happened?
The rider takes a breath and nods.
- Yes! I need to speak to the King immediately!
- Alright. - The guard says. - He's finished his feast, take your horse to stable on the right, then go in. Ask a guard once inside to take you to His Highness.
The rider nods, then proceeds through the gate, which closes behind him once inside. Inside the walls even more guards in similar armors and weapons patrol the courtyard and the walls, servants feeding the horses or tend to the plants. The rider walks his horse to the stable, then hops down, nodding to a servant. The rider's brown leather boots patters on the cobblestone, his dark green cloth pants and shirt all sweaty. He runs up the stairs, barely avoiding to trip on his cloak, and salutes to a guard in the gate.
- Take me to our King, I bring message from the Great Gate!
The guard nods, leaving the other guard alone without anyone to talk to. The inside of the castle is decorated with countless statues, paintings and long red carpets. From the ceiling, beautiful chandeliers, colored to gold, hang, their chains hooked to the walls. As they walk the main hall, they pass six painting, depicting the six late kings. Although, the first two is only painted after notes and books. At the end of the main hall, they turn to the right, walking up on a set of helical stairs, which are turning to the left side. Another long hall. Here, only four statues of warriors and paintings of bowls of food and feasts. This hall is much shorter, only twelve steps to the end of it. At the end, on the left side of the rider and the guard, a huge door. The guard signs to the rider to keep out, as he knocks then steps in. Through the wooden door, the rider hears the guard announcing him:
- My Lord! From the Great Gate and Great Wall we received a rider, carrying a message for you. I announce this messenger to you now, please forgive his intruding.
The rider walks in, once the doors open for him. The throneroom. A giant hall, filled with light from the chandeliers and windows, at least ten King's Guard on the sides... The usual red carpet on the floor, but this one is the biggest our rider has ever seen. From the giant doors to the throne and even from wall to wall! He gulps as he looks around while walking closer to the throne. Severed and taxidermied heads of all kinds of animals hanging like trophies on the walls. Finally, the rider looks straight in front of him. On a shorter set of stairs, up on a throne of gold, which is so wide, that two of himself could sit on it, sat King Belzariahn. Donning sabatons and armored pants of iron, painted to golden, even a chestplate of iron in the color of gold. His shirt of silk in velvet, decorated with fine white lines, and his royal cloak of bright red with golden lining and a golden symbol on it's back, representing a lion wearing a crown (although currently this can not be seen by our hero). The king is in the middle of his fourtieth years, long hair, which once was black, now a forest of black in grey mist. His wrinkles under his eyes and on his cheeks represent years of experience and they ask to be respected. The blue eyes of the king is in perfect balance with his crown of gold. Belzariahn looks on the rider, who falls to his knees.
- My Lord! I bring thee word from the Great Wall. We received a Mage, who came from the outside world. He wishes to speak with you. Order it so, ask for him, and I instantly ride back to the wall, and we will escort this man on a carriage to you.
- He. Wants to speak with me? Who is he?
- He calls himself.. Prophet. He spoke of revelations, war and bloodshed... And..
- And?
- And your fall.
The King sits up in his throne, grabbing the armrests. He pulls himself up as he raises above the rider from the top of the stairs.
- Bring this man to me. But tell him, not to dare speak about my fall, because I will be the one ruling this land until the God's will and let me. Bring him, and make him talk!
Two days later, a carriage, carrying the so called Prophet, along with three soldiers left the town of Sarazim, which is the gate town, next to the Great Wall.