There stands to be a conundrum, born before the first kingdoms rose from the deserts of the south, and before the first ship crossed the northern seas. It came with the first fire and the first fire-bringer.

  The people saw that among them, some were not quite as themselves, be they family or tribesmen. A power both divine and deviant drew a line between the two and promised to shape the course of history itself.

  Their stories, first told as pictures in chalk, praised the hunters who brought food and kept the rain from putting out their fires. Through storms and floods, plagues and famines, nations prevailed because of the few born with a gift.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  In time it was known that magic would forever be a privilege granted to the lucky ones, and the line would become a rift so wide that it would split their world apart.

  Finally, when the common man saw an opportunity to equal the scales and take back the power, he did not hesitate to do so.

  With the help of their imaginary gods and an arsenal of deadly weapons, kings and priests alike waged war on everyone deemed unholy. It took two hundred years of merciless purging and slaughter to erase several millennia of inequality.

  When it finally ended, the victors looked at their bloodied hands and called it justice, never knowing how dearly it would come to cost them. What once was lost can never be revived, but a time will come when it will be the only thing to keep the world from going mad.