Chapter Text
Long ago, Xadia was one land rich in magic and wonder. In the old times, there were only the six Primal Sources of magic.
The Sun.
The Moon.
The Stars.
The Earth.
The Sky.
And the Ocean.
Very grand and fantastical, wouldn't you say, dear reader? Just the intro oozes of mysticism. Joy!
But a thousand years ago – seriously, why its always a number of years ending in a cadre of zeros? Why not 999 years ago, or 1001? Damn obligatory need for grandeur and easy to remember details! – anyways, a human mage discovered new magic - the seventh source. It used the essence within magical creatures themselves to unleash dark power. Because, dear reader, 'dark' equals 'bad' and 'light' equals 'good'. No exceptions. Sounds a tad racist, if you ask me. I mean, anthrax is bad and white.
Horrified by what they saw, the elves and the dragons put a stop to the madness. They drove every last human to the west. How it happened, I'm not going into details. Because it would be spoiling, you ask? No, because the writers haven't thought of the details, yet. If they ever will, seeing season 4 is all but forgotten.
And so, the continent was divided in two. In the east, the magical lands of Xadia. And in the west, the human kingdoms. For centuries, the King of the Dragons himself defended the border.
The humans called him Thunder, for when he spoke, his voice shook the earth and the sky. An apt description, I admit, though the name is quite unimaginative. Personally, I have one that is both imaginative and apt to describe him: Big-bearded Jackass. Because that's succinctly what he is.
On with the tale; on the eve of last Winter's Turn, the humans used unspeakable Dark Magic to slay Thunder (aka Big-bearded Jackass). But know that the good Dragon King (aka Big-bearded Jackass) did not die unavenged; for in his last moments of life he turned to the human king who fell him and placed upon his offspring two equally, dastardly, horrifying curses, dictated by the moon. The King's blood son would suffer whenever the moon was full. And the King's surrogate son would suffer whenever the moon was new. Henceforth they would become known as...imagine drum rolls, please...the Cursed Princes. DAN! DAN! DAN!
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Yeah, right! A Sky dragon cast two moon-oriented curses. Right, I'm sure even by reading this you can see my eyes rolling. Yeah, sure…NOT!
Okay, enough about my narrating and on with the real story, or whatever. It's not like this fanfic will last long enough to reach my grand introduction, anyways.
- Aaravos of the Startouch Elves