Once long ago there was a place called the Blessed Isles. A place filled with glorious wonder and the secret of eternal life. It was a collection of small islands hidden from any ordinary map and very difficult to locate. Unless a being was invited to the isles one would need arcane words to pierce the glamours protecting the isles. The inhabitants, also known as the guardians noticed a being with pure intents drawing close to the isles. Knowing her quest was to simply heal her queen they invited her to the isles. She pleaded them to save the queen by ridding her body of poison. They obliged and told this general to bring the queen here so they could cleanse her body and restore her to good health. The kind young general thanked the guardians and went on her way to return to her kingdom. But before she left they gave her the enigmatic phrase that would allow her to return.
Soon enough they sensed her arrival in the horizon, however even though she brought the Queen, the king and a knight commander came with her. Along with two small armies. The guardians sensed something wrong and the ill intents of the knight commander. As a precaution to the outcome they foresaw The Master of the Island's Guardians created the only chance of the survival of the Blessed isles and buried it deep beneath the island in a secret chamber coated in protective magic. The Master of the Island's Guardians then welcomed the visitors to the island's center city, as if he nor the other guardians did not know the tragedy of what was to come. They saw that the poison had taken its claim, and the queen was dead. The king begged the Master to bring her back to life, to bring his love back to him. He pleaded with all his might as the young general and strong knight commander stood by his side. The Master and the guardians knew the king would regret the decision to bring his wife back to life. So they declined.
However the king would not take no for an answer and demanded that his niece, the commander kill the guardians one by one until they bring his queen back. The young commander shocked at his demand, refused and attempted to remind him of the great king he once was. She stood between the king and the island's inhabitants. However the knight commander saw this as an opportunity, just as the guardians predicted, the commander stabbed the general in the back with a black spear. Chaos then broke out within the peaceful and life filling city. The general's followers fought against the commander and his knights but they were soon overpowered. As the general saw her loyal soldiers fall one by one her heart was filled with betrayal and vengeance. The commander was her closest ally and yet he had forsaken her. The life soon faded from her eyes as the commander started to kill the guardians. Within the bloodshed of both armies the commander had been struck and was dying in battle only being able to be saved by a knight closest to the proximity of him. The knight only stared and turned his back on his superior. The The Master of the Island's Guardians soon gave in and brought life back to the queen.
He knew this bloodshed would happen and even though he was great and powerful there was nothing he could do to prevent it. He only wanted to spare the poor king and queen the grief and pain that was to come, since bringing someone back to life is tricky and filled with uncertainty. Unfortunately queen was brought back as a decomposing and maggot filled corpse just as they expected from the unstable spell. She cried out to what she had become. She was at peace with her death and begged her beloved king to let her die once again. Repulsed at what he had done, the King casted a spell to kill himself and his queen, sending their spirits to the afterlife. The king's spell was far too strong to kill only two people, like fog it creeped across the Blessed isles, turning it into a land of death and shadows. The armies fled to the shore to get back to their ships.
The knight commander got caught by the fog, it fused him to his steed turning him into a monster. As the deadly spell took away the beauty and life of the Blessed isles, the only hope for this once magnificent place lays dormant deep beneath the isle. A collection of magic and information in the form of shapeless mist begins to slowly manifest itself into something great. However it'll take time to create itself into a being with the power to bring back life to the Shadow isles. The Master of the Isle's Guardians breathed a bit of his essence, all his knowledge of the entire history of the isles, the magic within it, all the secrets and abilities hidden within the past of the Blessed isles, he poured all this information into this mist. Years have passed since the destruction of the isles and finally the mist begins the take shape. Unfortunately the cursed spell the king used was far more powerful than the Master of Guardians anticipated and some of it leaked into the magically sealed chamber of hope.
I was dreaming for most of my existence. I could remember picturesque forests, fantastic and well built cities, perfect weather, beautiful life throughout the land. I dream of stories of the past, of history within my isles. I know the secrets of the pure magic that once given the isles glorious life. Both the moon and sun breathed energy into the land as the crystal clear waters kept the earth clean. The plants forming from the purity of the water start to purify the land even further. The first inhabitants of my intimately sweet island were created from the plants, the clarity water and a dash of magic. Soon we had not only plant life but animals as well. My isles meant for heart and delightful energies. It was a perfect place meant to help people, to help all beings. It cleansed the sick and made them well. But then something awful happened, impurity reached us. My people only wanted to help, as it is tradition but we were taken advantage of and destroyed due to that king's ignorance. He didn't mean to, I'm sure he just wanted to be with his queen once more but he tore my island apart to get it. A dark fog swept through, draining my pleasing isle of all positive energy. Leaving death and undead in its place. I thought I was safe in my little chamber. I was surrounded by protective magic but some of his spell leaked through and infused within me. I was supposed to be the purest being in existence, the key to bring my island back. It took awhile for the fog to reach me deep beneath the earth, I wasn't fully done forming, I was still vulnerable. It's inside me now, I must get rid of it. I must be healed before I can cleanse my island.
When I finally woke up from my deep slumber, I was raised from the ashes and soil of my island, like phoenix. I was never supposed to be a fighter, I am naturally a healer but the fog within me changed that. I reached out my hand to a dead tree. It sprung back to life and my arm was wrapped in its essence. I am not a being of physical strength but this fog gave me that. This fog gave me the pitiful ability to fight. So I am no longer just a healer, a pure being, an entity holding secrets and energies of the Blessed isle, I am now also a fighter forged from the darkness of Shadow isle's. I am a creation of both forms.