The Tale of the Serians
Centuries have past since this world, Rhyandrithae, has seen peace. Lightning eternally flecks the horizon, highlighting hills that once were soaring castles, dashed to dust by the wrath of their creators. Only deep within its heart, in the land of Sionayra, can one find a moments rest.
The Fey are the source, though they have set no foot on the land in any living memory. They were Rhyandrithae's undying race, possessing great powers that no others could even touch. Jealousy and intrigue ruled them, and long, terrible battles were fought at the cost of many lives. This endless war was broken by one whose hate was only equaled by her power and influence. She goaded her people long past where they should have ceased, and in her finals moments destroyed their last haven. Few lived beyond those nameless battles, and those that did were overcome with their loss. They retreated deep within the earth, becoming one with it and gifting it with what little power they still held.
The land that had been so slaughtered with power had gained a piece of the magic used against it, storing it in the soil of the barren land. Slowly, as life returned, seeds sprouted and trees grew again, but not as they had before. The plants had grown from the magic-filled soil, using the power, feeding off it, until the plants became filled with power as the Fey had been. Creatures fed off them, allowing the magic to enter and change them. Birds of ice and fire, hares so swift none could overtake them, unicorns, pegasi, and gryphons were born. Every creature changed, becoming more able and powerful. Those that did not benefit from the power were easy prey, and soon died out. Similar creatures bred, until seven species with heightened levels of intelligence were formed.
There had been much power that could not be gifted to the land, however, for there were none left to capture it. Unfettered, it contaminated the sky and fell from it. All life struggled, trying to survive in the desolate, magic-wrecked lands.
Power-driven storms weathered the land, each one worse than the one before, tearing and destroying Rhyandrithae. The mightiest of the creatures gathered together in the heart of Sionayra to create seven altars. The Altar of Red Sands, Forest Song, Arctic Winds, Sacred Sea, Summer Storm, Eternal Sun, and Deep Shadows. The world then sent forth it's own altar, joining in this last attempt. This final move created the mightiest of them, the Altar of Celestial Light.
Born from these were creatures of magnificent spirit and power, posessing both magic and fighting ablility. Rare forms of these Serians, as they took to calling themselves, excelled in one form but lacked in the other. Elementals were the mages, each possessing magic of such magnitude they could control the sudden storms. Warriors had little magic, but much strength and agility, battling the creatures that were twisted into darkness by the wild power in the skies. The mightiest of the Serians, the Rogues, possessed unusual talents and appearances and were strong in both. They kept growing in number, raising more from the Altars and even finding mates and breeding. Taking an equine form along with various traits from other creatures, they were the most deadly, swift and graceful of all.
The Serians' story is still being written, however, and the altars are never neglected. Young Serians have taken to 'bonding' with ones they trust, increasing thier power and life force. They still fight for their land, and with the help of their bonds they are slowly returning peace, though the rest of Rhyandrithae still suffers.