Disclaimer: I own nothing.
World Creation for Magically Gifted Dummies
Magic: The inherent ability to bend, and sometimes even break, the rules and restrictions of reality. An unlimited, omnipresent, yet not scientifically definable force of the universe, which might or might not be sentient. Like with any power only accessible by a limited subset of the population, the fighting was inevitable.
History is unclear on the specifics, but it is assumed that it was Merlin himself who created the magical world.
The time frame would certainly fit with similar legends, but back then, not many people were literate, even among the magical people (though the percentage was higher there, for some reason). Even those magicals who were literate, though, were slightly more concerned with surviving than they were with recording historically relevant events.
Thus, neither the identity of the magical world's creator nor the existence of Merlin can be conclusively proven. Not even the exact date of this event is known with any certainty, even if one ignores the mostly non-linear flow of time within the magical world.
Something, though, was recorded within a few years of the Arcane Genesis, as the event came to be known. The diary of a minor noble, while sadly mentioning neither names nor dates, describes the circumstances surrounding the separation from the normal world.
Magical people, the diary says, had rarely been trusted by the regular humans. Excluding druids and some other minor groups, most cultures held a perceptible distrust against any mages, by whatever name they were known. The spreading influence of Christianity, though, made life increasingly difficult for those who were magically gifted.
The king himself had more or less ordered the creation of a purely magical village. Not even five people had moved there, though, before a blacksmith with a grudge against one of the new inhabitants – a witch who had failed to save his wife from death – burned the whole village down.
Standing upon a hill, the diary went on to say, overlooking the still glowing embers, ashes and ruins, the creator came to the conclusion that a village alone would not keep us safe. Humans tend to grow more numerous. One day, conflict would no longer be avoidable.
Meanwhile, the need for secrecy would severely limit the growth of all magical populations, even breed conflict among the magical races.
This could not continue, so he decided to leave the non-magical world behind.
To make his intentions possible, he stood there, day and night, begging for magic itself to assemble all magical races. Whether it was the sentience of magic itself or his own call, carried by his will and magic, which made it possible, the result is the same: One by one, the magical creatures and humans of the world arrived, standing in silence in that ruined valley. I, myself, was one of the first, standing at the very foot of the same hill he stood upon, hearing his pleas for magic to help.
We stood there for three days until his words changed.
"Help us, magic, to unite our will and power into one. Guide us in the creation of a new world, a world without limits, where all that is magical shall be welcome, as we are no longer welcome here."
These and similar words were repeated, first by him, then, slowly, by everybody else, for the rest of the day. The air was filled with whispers in many tongues, shimmering with intent, purified down to that which all our prayers had in common. The earth and ashes beneath our feet were faintly glowing from the collective power of our desperation.
The last ray of sunlight had barely left us when, in a flash of light, all whispering, shimmering and glowing suddenly ceased. The sun itself, though, as if listening to our prayers, peeked back over the same horizon over which it had just left.
Since that day, our sun rises in the west – wherever that may currently be. Whatever gods may or may not exist, they listened to our prayers and gave us a new world. Now, it is our duty to prove that they were right to do so.
That is the only known account of that fateful day. Magical children are still born to non-magical parents in the old world. Most of them are outsiders, though, or end up orphaned early in life. Once they feel as if they have no place to go, they find a way – a door, a tunnel, maybe even a dream – which takes them to our world. To Terra Arcana. And all of them have found a place here.
The valley, though – the only place we took with us from the old world – still contains the ruins of that village. The embers are still glowing, the ash is carried by the wind, which smells of smoke and fire. It is, to this very day, named Valley of the Ashes.
Hi there. You just read "World Creation for Magically Gifted Dummies". Sorry, it's not a guide book – if you find one, please tell me.
Instead, this is another one of those little introductions to my version of the magical world. Notice the absence of any characters? Or how little this has in common with Rowling's wizarding world?
This is what, in my alternate universe, would have happened instead of the statute of secrecy. In this universe, magic is as powerful as I believe it would be – and hiding in a world with limited amounts of space is just not plausible.
This story, like my first one, is a oneshot. It is tied much closer to the world of my intended "full-size" fanfiction. In fact, this is the exact world of that story, and the background story of how it came to be.
Have fun imagining how magical creatures and cultures would develop in a purely magical world with unlimited space. Oh, and if you decide to use it, please notify me and refer to this story at the beginning of yours. Thanks!