The Coming Of the Fae

Of the Fae...
When describing Fae, one would start by determining which Realm of Influence they hailed from. Whilst their history is long, it is traced back to 12 First Comers. Folmandeer the Aldiveer was the oldest. When the universe was created Folmandeer was instructed in the importance of balance. When the other 11 siblings where created, it was his job to teach the others basic life craft, and how they fit in with each others diverse existences.
The mightiest of them all was Lumlay. He was the leader of the Imperial Influence. By the mare strength of his personality, he would rule over all Fae, until his death.
Duradon came next. She embodied order. Everything had its place and she resided on a world filled with perfect trees, streets, buildings. All creatures were orderly and respectful of each other.
Impatient and wilful, Naris of the Darkness and her twin sister Mur of the Chaos came ahead of those that were due next. This displeased Duradon greatly and as expected a hostile relationship between the three developed.
Thrador the Everliving followed. Chaos incarnate. It was unperturbed by not arriving in the order it was mentioned. Some of the most diverse fae have derived from this influence. The fact that It left the others and stove off to populate many worlds with the most fantastic creatures did not surprise the other Firstcomers.
As a pair also came Wife and Husband that was Gretam the Good and Hermadar the Evil. Their love and hatred of each other was an unusual concept to understand, even for the other Firstcomers. They did not reside on worlds, rather they made the stars their home. Ever quarrelling, ever making up. Their progeny were equally as mysterious, wisp like and ethereal.
Syridin the Illuminous came next. When ever she was near, those around her, even those of negative influence, felt joy and healing.
Jort Darkmood came and went. He did not wish to be around any of his peers. The Dark Fae resided near the Wyrm Vortexes. This made them dark and dangerous. While this did not effect the wyrms passage to the afterlife, it did stop many curious lesser being from exploring the tunnels to the void.
Finally came the four brothers. Samorious of the Fire, Hur of the Air, Casdorin the Murfae and dependable Oberon the Earthbender. They each had the favourite brother whom they would build with and a brother they despised. They would go on to live on many world, cooperating with some, and solitary on others. Between them, they spawned the greatest number of fae creatures.

Historical Basis

... 86,000 years ago in another universe.
Malogis turned from the high tower window. Saddened by what she saw. Magic was dying. In reality, this was not news to her, she was past denial and accepted it for fact. Magic had been dying for centuries, now had an almost visibly finite life.

Her world had always been bright and beautiful and will remain so for a long time. Unfortunately things that had existed since the beginning of time had stopped singing or lost their vivid bright colours, or had their natural lifespans shortened considerably. Even Lucin, her own brother, had fallen victim to disease and lay invalid in the royal gardens. The royal family had been the longest lived and free of disease since recorded time.

With Lucin’s strength deserting his body, he had months, perhaps only weeks left to live. The Kingdoms were forced to prepare for a contest of succession. For House Aldiveer, it was almost a formality. The ancient house had ruled over the the twelve Kingdoms for eons. Malogis Aldiveer, daughter of Falena, daughter of Rowanna, daughter of Rominbard, son of Folmandeer the Firstcommer, was the most charismatic princess of all the kingdoms. She, however was not a certainty, as she still need to prove herself in the claiming circle. The only disadvantage that her detractors could perceive, was that she was a Light Fae. Lucin was always first choice out of the two siblings, due to his ability to channel both Light and Dark Magic. It was getting late, Mel would need to rest soon, as the sunset and who Will was put into darkness her powers would ebb. With a musical clip of her hands saving Faye entered her quarters bring her evening meal. She ponded, firstly what her choices will be on the assumption of her becoming the leader of all the Faye.
... 12 Days later. Malogis entered the Central Sovereigns Chambers, where Fae of all influences gathered in small circles. The chambers shifted from an angry buzz of conversation to an echoey hush. All eyes focused on Malogis as she ascended elevated discs in the center of the room. She raised her hands and, with a melodic voice, proclaimed, “I am Lady Malogis, rightful heir through my mother's lineage, descendant of Folmandeer the Firstcommer. I claim the throne of our kin and our kind.” These words, part of a ritual first uttered by her great grandsire eons ago on this very dias, were seldom used.
The onlookers waited; none expected a challenge, though many were not entirely pleased with the prospect of another Aldiveer as the ruling patron. The fact that this Fae was only daylight attuned did not sit well with families of other Fae influences.
A commotion at the entrance caused all heads to turn. A Wind Pixie flew through the royal guards, dodged Fire Sirens, and howled, "It Comes! It Comes!" In a blink, it hovered a marginally respectful distance away from Malogis. "It Comes," it repeated in a small whistling voice.
"It" could have been any Fae creature, but recent events hinted at Thrador the Everliving, Lord of Chaos. Unseen since the arrival of the twelve, a myriad of confusing colors preceded It as It entered the room. Lesser beings recoiled as It moved. Those of greater power could see what It wasn't—everything and nothing, humanoid or animal, light, dark, or all colors in between. Pushing the Wind Pixie aside, It stopped almost nose to nose in front of Lady Fae.
The room collectively held its breath, expecting a challenge. Some were scared, some pleased, and others curious about why the Chaos Lord took an interest in ruling the other eleven Fae influences.
As It began to speak, some heard various styles of voice, others felt It spoke directly to their minds, and some could not even hear any communication. It seemed as though It didn't deem some important enough to receive Its word. "Granddaughter of the Mighty Folmandeer, I have no interest in any in this room. I wish to preserve my kind. Challenging you serves no purpose. I have nothing to offer and despise sycophants." Its quiet whisper switched to a booming echo, "Magic as we know it is dying! The Great Ancient Wyrm's numbers diminish each millennium. Lesser beings grow, spreading to all corners of the universe!" Pausing, It surveyed the audience, "As our magic diminishes, their technology grows."
"Are you here to save us?" quipped a voice. Thrador spun Its head around and stared, "I'm sure, Master Firesinger, that if we had to rely on your decisive skills, annihilation would be at the end of a nova star." The crowd rippled with amusement. Turning back towards Meligos, Its eyes drank in all It could. "I speak to those who have seen the signs. Magic is dying in the universe! Lady Meligos knows this; those with wit and wisdom know it too. Even the most base elementals can feel it."
Every word felt like a blow to Meligos. For millennia, she had felt magic ebb, but hearing it expressed in such base dialogue was hard to stomach.
"Thrador, do you have knowledge I am not privy to?"
"My Lady Meligos, there is a way, but it is near impossible. Since the beginning, there has been a leader to head the council of twelve. All the Fae would have you take over the leader role from your brother."
Meligos felt meek and insignificant in front of the Lord of Chaos. One of the mightiest Fae, Mamoor, Son of Lumlay, Lord of the Imperial Influence, stepped forward, "We need to embrace the technology of the lesser beings. It is imperative to the survival of our kind." The statement met approval from some sections of the chambers.
"That is the route of a coward," Thrador interjected.
"Who are you to decide?" said Mamoor. "You deserted us since the beginning. Why come back now? Do you take perverse pleasure in the situation?"
A look came across Thrador's face—unreadable, full of all emotions simultaneously. "Mamoor, son of Lumlay, you are a fool. The lesser beings have realized the Wyrms make the magic. They seek to destroy what they fail to understand or corrupt the essence for their purposes. Even I, who revels in pure chaos, can't see this boding well for Fae in the future!" The last was uttered as a crescendo. In a mere whisper, "I have seen them, Wyrms considered barely Great in stature entering the vortex, to their ends, or whatever sweet blissful oblivion awaits them." Again in a booming voice, "I would not presume to advise this great council! But here I stand! The oldest being in the universe that is neither Entity, God, nor Wyrm. Magic is dying!" A whisper followed, "Magic is dying," then after a long pause, "If we do not follow, we are dead as well." A long silence followed, and as the realization of what Chaos Fae was saying set in, bedlam erupted. All in the chamber burst into shouting matches, mental comments, retorts, orders, and chaos. With a mad smile on Its face, Thrador slipped to a corner of the audience chamber, pleased with the result ... Chaos.