The Aether Prohibition
"Death to the witch whose unnatural practices have tainted our lands.With these words the proclamator rose his torch higher into the night sky, he stood perched atop the mass burial at Balomaz - the direct aftermath of Leona's assassination - a sword in one hand and a torch alight with black flame in the other. Next to him, a makeshift stake had been erected, a large pike of a fallen dragonlancer stood shaky in its grotesque foundations of corpses already rotting. Roped to the stake was a beast of a creature, a grey statue-like humanoid 8 feet tall struggled breathlessly against simple bindings, the exhaustion was visible not only through its meaningless struggles but through the facade of stone peeling from his skin. A spell slowly corrupting and failing.
Death to the craft that saw our children victims to false faiths and delusions.
Death to the age of prejudice among us commoners of whome the Aether dare not bless.
And death to the flame I alight today, a flame we pray shall never be relit whilst our Gods gaze blesses us."
This beast was the last of the Aether, a group who roamed Skålnir for as long as waves had crashed its shores. The Aether were gifted, any newborn of any species may find themself granted the gift of the Aether in their blood, the innate ability to harness magics beyond that of what the Gods blessed the world. A raw connection to the flow of the arcanum between the user and the source.
The Royal Cleansing held many known and unknown conflicts hidden behind the guise of one great cause. One well-known conflict was the rising turmoil and tensions between The Aether and those without their capabilities. As people learnt of a new way to harness magic through gifts of their Gods and Goddesses, anger flared at the now supposed blasphemous atheistic nature of The Aether. This hatred toward the Aether was fueled by jealousy and lust for the cosmic world's powers and with The Aether being the minority they where they went into hiding just prior to the cleansing.
The years prior to The Royal Cleaning saw many crusades against the hiding mages, often led by these new-age mages preaching Pantheons of old and new the Aether were hunted. When the war did start, the Tyrant Queen Leona utilised The Aether to fight, giving them safety and a welcome comfortable home in return for their assistance. They helped her war effort, however, due to their kinds prosecution they feared the front line of battles and instead opted to help in other ways. Creating plentiful harvests and healthy crops or building forts or war machines that would otherwise take hundreds of men allowed Leona to stand so independently in the cleansing.
Ultimately, as the war ended on the day of Leona's death and new cultures and armies flooded into the Sziks Empire The Aether was once again hunted and slaughtered. And so we arrive at the final stand of The Aether, the last Aether strapped to a pike, their only honour shielded by their spell of stone slowly cracking and breaking away. A militant man waving a black flame. A flame that burns true no matter what fuel is provided. And a pile of The Aethers family, bodies of deceased mages. Fathers, sons, daughters, children, and families.
General Li finishes his victory speech. He throws the torch down on a body his heel had crushed the skull of. A young boy, no more than 9 years of age quickly flares into flame. Li hurriedly jumps down from the pile where he is met with claps on the back and cheers from his fellow soldiers. The Last Aethers spell had weakened enough to reveal their ordinary face. They look toward the black flame spreading toward them, quickly encroaching on his broken motionless legs.
There are many reports differing on how long the bonfire burned. From days to months no one truly knows. What is agreed upon and supported well enough was that the flame burned a bright black and blue, its hue coloured sunrises and sunsets coldly, staining the sky of skålnir blue. The black flame used was named Aetherfire for only the Aether could conjure it, and when it burns it turns the colour of the essence of its fuel. Blue was known to be the colour of souls.
