The History of Magic in Midora
Magic—a force both wondrous and terrifying—has been interwoven into the tapestry of Midora since the dawn of recorded time. It defies absolute understanding, its nature too chaotic, too mutable to ever be fully mastered. Scholars, sages, and madmen alike have pursued its secrets, but the truth remains: magic is not a tool, but a living force—one that often resents being held.
The First Age – The Age of Blood and Flame
Magic first revealed itself in the form of the First Sorceresses—mortals born with innate command over the arcane. They were seen as divine avatars by the primitive societies of the early world, worshiped and feared in equal measure. In time, however, it became clear that their gifts were not of divine origin but ancestral inheritance. Somewhere in their bloodlines lay unions with dragons, spirits, fey creatures, or veiled gods who had taken mortal guise. Depending on whom you asked, these lineages were either cursed or blessed.
The rise of these gifted individuals sparked the beginning of magical study. But sorcerers were unstable vessels. Their powers flared unpredictably, often burning themselves and others. As noble houses took an interest in arcane study, wars were fought not with swords alone but with raw, untamed power. The First Age became a crucible of fire and ruin—civilizations collapsed under the weight of magical cataclysms. In Year 980 of the First Age, the Age of Blood and Flame ended. In its wake, the world limped into a new era—scarred, yet wiser.
"Before the shaping of flame through will, fire was a thing stolen from the wild. It devoured forests, clung to lightning-struck trees, and had to be nursed with flint and breath. But when the first sorceress summoned a tongue of fire from her palm, it was as though we had reclaimed a stolen fragment of the gods."
— Himotto of the First Naga Circle, 214 FA
The Second Age – The Veiled Epoch
Magic was no longer a divine mystery, but a volatile science—feared and regulated. The art of wizardry emerged as learned minds sought to study the arcane without relying on bloodline or divine heritage. These early wizards developed systems, rituals, and theories to harness magic through knowledge rather than instinct.
It was during this age that scholars uncovered the Etheric Currents—invisible rivers of primordial force that wove through Midora like veins through a living body. Also called the Winds of Magic, these currents influence weather, terrain, emotion, and spellcraft. By observing these flows, mages could amplify their spells or predict arcane reactions with greater success.
"They are like ocean currents, invisible but ever-present—shaping the arc of every spell, whispering through the bones of the earth. The Etheric Currents are not used by magic; they are magic. To cast without knowing them is like sailing without stars."
— Magus-Ventari Leor, Winds of the Invisible Sea, 77 SA
Despite progress, magic remained unstable. Many early breakthroughs were marked with catastrophic failure. The development of teleportation magic, for instance, was plagued by temporal misalignments. In the early days, a single mispronunciation could strand a traveler weeks—or even decades—away from their intended time. Over centuries, spellcraft became more reliable through the use of spell-scripts, codified incantations that stabilized the chaotic energies being manipulated.
The Second Age also saw the emergence of Warlocks—those who did not study or inherit magic but bargained for it. By striking pacts with beings beyond the veil—eldritch gods, elemental lords, or whispering fiends—they gained dark and unpredictable powers. To many, this was heresy; to others, it was merely another path to power.
The Third Age – The Sanctioned Flame
As arcane knowledge spread, tensions between the magical and the faithful erupted. Religious orders saw unchecked magic as a threat to divine law. Across Midora, arcane practitioners were persecuted, imprisoned, or executed. Only through the rise of sanctioned spellcasters did the practice of magic survive. Across lands like the Silver Dominion, Vache Kingdom, and the Khein Dynasty, formal institutions were founded to license and monitor mages, warlocks, witches, and scholars.
"Magic is not a ladder to climb, but a labyrinth to wander. Every answer births ten more questions. The deeper we peer, the more we realize how little we know. Magic is a sea without a bottom."
— Grand Arcanist Aerath Wyl, The Immutable Unknown, 3 TA
Yet not all lands adopted these constraints. In the Nagan Empire, arcane freedom flourished under spiritual guidance. There, magic was not feared but integrated into daily life. Still, even in Nagan regions, citizens and the common guards were taught to defend themselves against sorcery, for not all wielders of magic had noble intent.
The Third Age was one of both enlightenment and oppression—an era of structured chaos, where magic was pulled between rigid control and boundless exploration.
"It is said that we have uncovered but a single thread in a tapestry that stretches across the stars and beyond the grave. Perhaps we are not meant to see the whole cloth. Perhaps to do so is to go mad."
— Naevir the Blind, Prophet-Scribe of Khein
The Fourth Age – Eyes Toward the Stars
Now in the Fourth Age, arcane study continues to advance. Institutions probe not only the depths of Midora, but the heavens above. Wizards and astronomers speak of celestial bodies—distant worlds pulsing with arcane resonance. Some have succeeded in teleporting beyond the veil of stars… but none have returned. The great distances between worlds, ever-shifting due to their cosmic orbits, make return travel nearly impossible. Time becomes fractured when stretched across such expanses. A year passed in Midora may be a moment—or an eternity—elsewhere.
And so, even now, the greatest minds struggle with the ancient problem: not how to wield magic, but how to endure it. For every discovery, there is risk; for every spell, a cost. Magic may one day lift mortals to the stars—or cast them screaming into the void.
"Every arcane theory concerning teleportation to distant worlds reaches the same conclusion. The traveler may arrive in a blink, but time itself will rebel. When they return, their world has aged without them. This is not failure—it is law. As if the Titans who forged reality decreed that such doors must swing only one way."
— Professor Mirial Dann, Arcane Astronomer of Vindrik