It happened, as all things did, with a beginning.

Many millennia ago, mankind used to live in peace with beings only to be known in fairytales and folklores we tell our children today. Yes, I'm talking about fairies, elves, wizards and mermaids. All those horror tales about werewolves, Draculas and vampires? Yes, we've coexisted with them as well, and rest be assured, they're all very much true. And, if you've ever doubted if dragons and flying hippogriffs ever existed, doubt no more, because everything you have seen and heard from Harry Potter's fantasy novels up until the enticing stories from Aesop's Fables are all indeed a recollection of what had really existed, thousands of years ago.

Well, at least a vague part of it did.

Genesis. The time when mankind flourished with all of the Creator's creations; all 'fairytale beings' included. A time which seemed to be the epitome of Earth's birth. Our blue planet, as we know of it today, was a lot bigger back then. The oceans were a lot smaller, and the lands were a lot larger. One continent today, equaled to four in the past, and a thousand nations back then were abridged to hundreds now. In those times, the worlds of mortals and magic weren't two different things, separated by belief and logic. Instead, they were one, as magical beings lived amongst us, as we did amongst them.

Apart from just living alongside them, we have even used their magic to help us better evolve. With their help, we built buildings and monuments, tailored clothes and garbs and came up with all kinds of different inventions for the betterment of our lives. They were the advanced beings that helped us evolve, and for centuries, we have continued to use them and their powers to do so, until we grew arrogant and greedy. Hunger for more took over us, and we began to ask all too much from them. Their generous gestures of kindness were misused as a tool, and soon, they became no more than that; mere tools and slaves to help us keep evolving until they had nothing else left to offer.

Some rebelled, retaliated, to our immoral ways of injustice towards their kind. However, those that did, paid the price. Humans, as we always were, had an adept skill in learning, and having lived with them for so long, we learned of their magic, powers and all of their dirty little secrets, weakness included. That 'weakness', we used against them, and thus began our reign of manslaughter. It was simple. The magical beings that obeyed our orders were lucky enough to see the sun the next day, and those that didn't were forcefully offered their bloodied heads as rewards in the brutal wars of mortals and non-mortals. Events alike, prolonged tumultuously for many more centuries until 'they' had enough.

The very last of the non-mortals (numbered to only less than a million), gathered together and formed a pact. They congregated themselves in one continent, and divided themselves into four nations; Eldenheart, Valdora, Amatheia, and Grimrealm. These four nations, amassed together were known as the last continent of magic, Magusxia. The people of Magusxia decided to seal themselves away from the mortal world, for good, never to be found again. However, such a decision was not favored by all, and despite having to bear the torture from our incredulous mortal ways, there were still those that objected to be separated entirely from our kind.

The elves of Eldenheart, were one of those people.

The Princess of Elves in particular, did not approve of such a decision. Having a large following of human worshippers, the princess believed that not all mortals were cruel. Her refusal fueled the opposition from the people of Eldenheart and this brought discord among the nation's joint decision which soon, led to war. Known as 'The Great War of The Four Continents', this rivalry came with a condition. The nation which won the war would be prized as the strongest nation of the four, and that nation's word should be obeyed by the other three without objection.

Thus, it commenced, the ultimate war between nations that raged with blood and sacrifice. But, unlike the war between mortals, the war waged between magical beings lasted no more than a day, and before dawn, one nation reigned supreme.

The nation of dragons and sorcerers, Valdora.

Prized as Magusxia's strongest nation, the people of Valdora agreed that all of Magusxia should seal themselves away from the mortals, and all the other nations, in consent or not, were forced to comply with their pronouncement. That rule was to supposedly apply to Eldenheart's tenacious princess as well, but as expected, the Princess of Elves wasn't really the type to wag her tail to orders. On the night before the concealment, she conducted a final summit with her mortal worshippers in secret. During the summit, she gave her bracelet to one of her most trusted followers, a young lady named Kiira.

"In this bracelet, I subdue all my heart and soul. Kiira, pass this bracelet down to your children and grandchildren and have them do the same to theirs. By doing so, my magic would grow stronger, and by the time the first daughter of your 800th generation is born, she would be reborn as the next Princess of Elves, for that would be the time the people of Magusxia would face grave danger, once more," saying that, the princess entrusted her bracelet to Kiira's lineage, and left for the concealment ceremony.

The ceremony was not an easy process. When the first lining of the night sky was illuminated by the full moon, it began. The tens of thousands of Magusxia's people stood, gathered in a wide landscape filled with nothing but barren land. Then, came the wizards. Valdora's finest and strongest line of mages and sorcerers stepped forth, and they chanted. They chanted, and chanted hexes and spells till their lips went dry and their faces trickled with buds of sweat. When it almost seemed as if they were going to give up, a portal opened above them. One that warped to another dimension, another world.

The wizards did it. Wasting no time, they continued to wave their wands and sticks in circles and as soon as the bright moon disappeared behind the clouds, the people of Magusxia vanished, never to be found again.

The next morning, when the first orange tinge of sunlight shone upon the once barren land, trees began to grow, and vegetations suddenly popped out from randomly appearing flowerbeds. By the time of the day, when dawn had long passed, the whole area had turned into a lush green rainforest, and far, deep in the center, a giant oak tree grew in the place where all the mages and sorcerers once stood, where all of 'Magusxia' once stood. Engraved in the tree's bark, the mages casted a barrier spell to prevent any outsiders from finding them. It was their last resort, if all else fails.

The spell read :

Re'casa magus . noctar arch'aia . mwolnir recot're . piscas thore . micasa hart . olev spiritus zuik . urdain yoveic .

("The one who breaks this barrier, be it a mortal, is someone who is destined to be the strongest mage in all lands, as this spell can only be broken by a mage's will of pure heart, undeterred spirit and undying wisdom.")

After the concealment, mankind began to gradually forget about ever co-existing with magical beings. Years passed, and soon decades and centuries, and throughout the millennia, memories of magic and beings who had them began to grow distant and soon they became fables and stories that could only be heard in fantasy and fiction. We continued to thrive and the memories of our past continued to fade as if it was all just a dream. Perhaps, they cursed us to forget about their very existence, or we have just evolved so far to the point beyond return, that we can't even remember the roots of our evolution?

Were we really just products of fruition from humanitarian apes that evolved through time? Was technology really advanced enough centuries ago, to help us build monuments like the Egyptian Pyramids? Or, are the fairytales and folklores we are often read to as children, more than just results of our creative imagination? Who knows?

This is after all, just another fantasy tale. Or, is it?...