Long ago, at the beginning of history, there was land, water, plants, animals and four master wizards. All lived in harmony. They knew no love or hate, pain or pleasure, not even life or death. They wizards were speaking while watching Tratos, the first moon, rise on the horizon. They were contrasting the different powers that Father God had bestowed upon them. This eventually lead to an argument about who was the most powerful. Reignor, the master of the elements was first to speak up. “What power could any of you yield against the awesome power of the elements? None can stand before the fire of the mountains or the water of the seas.” “Everything the elements do is for the benefit of nature,” Aamore, the master of nature shot back. They all knew that even fire, the most destructive of the elements, was a necessity of the advancement of life.
“You have lost this debate Reignor,” chided Tayna, the plane seeker, and Lada, mistress of illusion. Out of pure annoyance, Reignor snapped back. “Lada loses by default. An illusion is not even real. Anyone with enough wits can see right through your treachery. Even the wolves don’t fall for all of your spells.” It seemed a decision had been reached. Nature was the most powerful. “I think we all know what the most powerful magic is,” proclaimed Aamore. But before he could get another word in, Tayna stood up. “Of course we do. Summoning is the magic that can hold power over the rest. Only I can bring forth creatures and unnatural beings from beyond this world. And I discover more every day.”. How wrong they all were?
For days they argued. Days turned into weeks, into months. Then months turned into years, then decades. What they never knew, could not know, was that Father God had created weakness and strength into each of the magics. After nearly a century, a decision had been reached. Perfection could only come through combining all four magics. They all soon found that the task laid before them would be a grand work that would cost many seasons. But what are a few seasons to an immortal? Thirty and five seasons they waisted in vain. Attempts were made and spells were corrupted as they toiled to learn each other’s powers.
Lada was the first to notice. The powers do not bend to the wills of mages. None of them were meant for such a power as they wished for. Much time passed. Stars fell and mountains formed. The wizards studied and wrote. Thousands of tomes were written. Many were lost, some found again and others destroyed. It seemed as if all was lost. But then Tayna had an epiphany. Maybe the secret to combining the powers is to create and bend a being to its will. She spent much time and energy studying, philosophizing and explaining her idea to the others. “These matters take time,” Reignor explained, “like the movement of lands and oceans, we must be diligent in our research and consider how best we may create such a being.”. It was advise well given. To rush such a task would create an abomination.
A book, they created. A recipe of sorts. Water, protein, magnesium, potassium, iron and carbon they decided upon. All were parts of nature, along with many other ingredients. Fire would drive the being and earth would strengthen it. Imagination and dreams would be the works of Lada. Tayna would be the final part. Summoning would create community and a need for knowledge. But how to pass that knowledge? Shall they raise their creations like a bitch with its pups, or would the great experiment be better off if they had to learn for themselves?
More seasons passed as they made their decision. Oceans swelled and new lands formed. As modern Targos began to take shape a consensus was reached. Each would pass their knowledge through tomes. The works that began at the dawn of the first day were collected and stored in a cave. The cave was located where the first day had come, at the point where five rivers merged to form the Serpent.
Nine months, the wizards worked on their new creations. The first to take form was female. Beautiful to behold, she was all that Lada and Tayna wanted to be. She would grow emotionally strong, with a need to care for her mate. Through her, dreams and hopes would fester. The male took form next. He would be physically strong, with the ability to lead with aggression. They would be wonderful copies of the four. But a copy came with a price. To ensure energy and sustenance, the creations could not dine on the elements as their masters did. Instead, they would need to dine on the plants and animals, that had lived with and given guidance to the four. For that, the male was given the ability to forage for plants and harvest meat from the beasts. The female was created with an understanding of health and the usage of the food items.
At the end of that ninth month, Reignor was preparing to instill the fire of life upon the creations. But then, something unexpected happened. Two other wizards from distant lands appeared to the four, wizards that should not have existed. After all, didn’t Father God only make the four of them on that eventful day of creation? The new wizards were odd, to say the least. One wore black robes and covered his features with a mask of solid iron. Not and inch of flesh showed as he moved about them like a wisp of morning fog. “What have we here Chron?” he asked to his companion. The other was draped in a light brown cloak that drifted in the wind like a tree’s branches. Its curly blond hair framed a golden mask with a fearful smile. “I apologize for my friend’s rudeness,”. The feminine voice proclaimed from behind the mask. “I am Chron, master of time. My companion is Trace, the necromancer. We wish to bestow gifts upon your… interesting creations.”. Without a word of answer, the two strangers began their work.
After mere minutes, the strangers left as quickly as the appeared. Whatever they had done, it was finished. The time had come for the final steps. Reignor built a grand fire. Slowly he pulled the smoke and embers into the creations. Then, came their first breath. Then another and another. As their breathing continued, they opened their eyes, then stood up, then went to their knees. “Thank you, thank you,” they proclaimed, “We have much to do with our precious little time.”. That’s when the four knew what the strangers had done. The chronomancer, called Chron, had bestowed upon their creations the perception or time. It was such a simple thing that the wizards had never thought of. Time was of no consequence to immortals. That thought explained Trace’s gift. Life and death had been unknown… until that day.