It started, as many of these tales do, with a prophecy. Just over 150 years ago from when I first put this pen to paper, a follower of the goddess Celestia, who many call sorcerers, killed the only daughter of the King of Aléa. He was handsome and powerful and had approached the princess as a suitor but she spurned him. The rejection ignited a white-hot rage within him and his magic turned the flames within him to reality; the fire killed them both.
The King, so grief stricken over his loss, decided to pass a law banning magic and all who practice it. A treaty existed between the followers of Celestia and the kingdom of Aléa, because their temple resided within the kingdoms borders, this gave the sorcerers a chance to petition the law before it was enforced. They sent three of their own, a member of their high council, her apprentice, and a promising and powerful young sorcerer. But they did not know that one among them had betrayed them, and the King, so lost in his grief, had not planned to listen to their petition.
The young sorcerer knew that the Kings grief would outweigh his reason so he plotted against his people in an effort to gain more power. The meeting was not a meeting at all but an ambush. And so when the king's men stormed in and the young sorcerer turned his back on them, the high councillor did all that she could. With their swords leveled at her throat she cast three spells and spoke one prophecy. The first spell was a curse on the young sorcerer, crippling and aging him until he was like a man 3 times his age, the second spell erased all knowledge of the location of the followers of Celestia and hid them from the world. It was the prophecy she spoke next and it told of a future when magic would be needed to heal Aléa. The last spell she cast transported her apprentice to safety. With that the kings men killed her but it is said that she died with a smile on her face and a prayer on her tongue as she went to meet her beloved goddess.