Copyright 2009
Prologue; The Darkest of the Dawns
Caskadia was a peaceful town under the calm night sky. It was the night of the annual Festival of the Hope Star, celebrating the purple, shimmering star that was the brightest light in the
sky, next to the sun, and could even be seen in broad daylight. The star promised hope for a better time. For a better harvest for farmers, a better fight for soldiers, the hope that was a
promise always believed in by the townsfolk, and citizens throughout the land. Everyone knew that as long as the star shone bright in the sky, there was hope. All of the Caskadians had
magical powers, which were common throughout the land, except that the Caskadians were more powerful with their magic, and had greater mental potential than any other group. People
envied them. The Caskadians had everything, wealth, fame, power...
Everyone was happy in Caskadia. Children played in the fields just in front of the town square, the adults sang and danced to the music being played by a band on the stage to pass the
time, other performers had gathered from afar as well to practice their craft and make some honest gold in the process. Men juggled torches and breathed flames to amaze the crowd, knife-
throwers threw knifes out into the crowd and drew them back on invisible strings. The town was one of the happiest places in all the land. The festivities were soon to begin, everyone knew
this. Just like every previous year, the Lord of Caskadia, in all his glory and splendor, stepped out onto the stage in front of the civilians, and cleared his throat. "Kind Civilians of Caskadia,"
He began, "It is my greatest pleasure to be able to welcome you all to Caskadia's four-hundred thirteenth annual Festival of the Hope Star! We will begin the festivities now, and we will
have the best bands in all of Caskadia performing on stage! All of you, enjoy the best time of the year, enjoy the fes-" His highness was cut off by the greatest bolt of lightning anyone had
ever seen, pure white, brighter than the sun... It struck the tower behind The Lord of Caskadia, and black flames lept from the roof and into the crowd.
Maniacal laughter came from somewhere in the clouds above the ruined festivities as the bands and the Lord of Caskadia burned to their deaths, and a particularly dark
cloud descended to be just above the flames. A hooded man wearing a jet-black cloak and with a single mask over his face. The mask turned his eyes into the iciest blue, and just his gaze
could pierce your heart. "Goodbye, Caskadians..." The man laughed. He had a high, shrill voice, and his laugh caused panic. The men who had played with flames (will be known as
fire-dancers) had thrown their torches on the ground in panic, and the knife-throwers had run away along with most of the civilians. The hooded man raised one hand out, and it began to
glow as white as the bolt that had killed His Highness, and he fired at the runaways. Once again, the attack hit one in the back of the head and exploded into more black flames. Babies
cried, women wept, and men looked around at their once great city... now being reduced to ashes.
The cloud that the man had been riding on ascended back to the sky, charged his hand with one final blast, and fired a bolt even larger than the first one. The last thing that anyone heard
before the black flames devoured them was the mans shrill voice, and the words, "Orami has finished Caskadia!" Nothing but a crater filled with ashes remained of the great city. All that
remained alive were the burning torches used by the fire-dancers, which still only burned with the purest orange flame, and as Orami flew off, weeping filled the air with sadness, weeping
for all that had been lost.