Diarā

If you build an altar, an Ijei will come. There is magic in this world-- this world, this young world, is filled with magic. All possess a spark of magic (life) and are able to use it; some possess more magic than others, and are able to manipulate it for larger purposes than restoring an old pan to new or charming katras out of their gardens. Chosen ones come every few generations, saving the populaces from various catastrophes (famine, natural disaster, war). They win, without fail. This is a world where monotremes (like platypuses) take the place of chicken, giant birds pull plows, and a mountain divides an empire from kingdoms. Dragons live in the desert close to humans-- peacefully, for the most part, though incidents and misunderstandings have happened (and there are stories, spoken by firelight, of ancient wars in early days when Ijeis stood silent as dragons and humans sorted out their differences in blood). Ogres are cruel and kind and everything in between-- they are sentient, not unfeeling, not dumb. Giants live in the flatlands and valleys, mountains and coasts, at times helping humans, ogres, and other beings tend to forests where the average tree reaches 250 feet by its twentieth year. Dwarves live in the tunnels of mountains (these dwarves are of average human height, no shorter or taller), living on fungi and mountain creatures and providing stone for palaces to humans (for a price, of course). Griffins, sentient, and their cousins, chamroshes, also live in the mountains, wanting only peace, only to be left alone. Sorcerers and sorceresses-- called akaunos-- are separated from their families, their memories taken, taught to be politically separate (as if this ever works.) These people, possessing greater magic, also possess greater danger. They do not always willingly choose to study magic; at times (enough times, it seems), they are given no choice. Ijeis-- goddesses and gods-- have priests and priestesses. The first to hear the whisper in their heads, the first to build the altar. The altar dies with the person; the Ijei disappears with the altar. New ones will rise to take their place, though some, at times, can return. Priestesses and priests are, then, considered powerful, for all that they are human. In Kirclen, a King or Queen must marry a priestess or priest-- no one else is permitted. Magic is everywhere. But times are changing-- a renaissance is happening. A chosen one died. What shall survive is in question in these dangerous times.