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It has been a thousand years since the once powerful

planet of Blessing lost its life-giving two suns, and

countless millennia since the days of the great

magicians. An expedition of alien voyagers came upon

the now ice-covered sphere, drawn there by an

unexplained lone beacon far below the miles of frozen

moisture, they unlocked a written history of Blessing

from its almost undiscovered tomb. So begins the story

of Magica.

It was a time of celebration. The Book of Magica and

the wizards who had used its spells so wisely for the

good of the people were being honored in all the great

cities of the world. There was however an exception.

Where good thrives, evil survives and evil has plans

for survival.

The celebration of thanks and prosperity would signal

the forces of Evilsyde to begin the attack and

ultimate capture and destruction of Magica. The spells

from the Book would be used to turn all of those

unwilling to join Evilsyde into statues of stone and

send their spirits to Otherworld, where they would

eventually be assimilated into the energy needed to

drive Evilsyde, and maintain its power without the

necessity of the Book and its incantations forever.

Defenses were naturally relaxed during the festive

preparations and although the battle was well-fought

by both factions, the minions of the dark prevailed.

Their assault was well-planned and executed to a

fault. After overwhelming their initial opposition,

they pushed on to the sacred ground upon which the

Book of Magica rested. They possessed a much weaker

form of magic themselves, and although it would be

normally quite useless against the strength of Magica,

the inability of the Wizards to gather themselves

together in time, coupled with the perfect timing and

determination of the attackers, spelled doom for the

Book and its followers.

The leader of the insurrection was the high priest and

executioner known as Shadowcast. His presence could

make the naughtiest of children become obedient and

inspire great fear among the adult population. This

man, most vile, would now be ruler of all and

answerable to none. His reign would plunge Blessing

into eternal darkness and prepare the way for the

coming of his master, Astoroth, the Grand Duke of Hell.

The capture of Magica did not, however, mean that

Shadowcast had finally reached his goal. He must now

find and conquer Blessing's Grand Wizard and legendary

hero, Eriel. Eriel, who defeated Evilsyde time and

again with his understanding and use of Magica's

spells. He would be the last stumbling block of total

domination.

Eriel had removed himself from the general population

in anticipation of everlasting peace and now he

devoted all of his energy to meditation and praise of

his God. Lately though, he had been visited by many

temptations in his dreams. Promises of pleasure,

riches and power raced through his sleeping mind. All

these lures had been placed there by Shadowcast,

hoping to avoid confrontation between this dominant

man and his own villainous forces. Eriel however had

resisted these solicitations and was now warned of

some impending danger. He managed to make his way to

the sacred ground by cloaking his identity with simple

spells, only to be discovered just before his attempt

to rescue the Book of Magica, but not before he was

able to memorize the most important of Magica's

charms, The spell of Restoration.

The ceremony of thanksgiving was now directed toward

the transmission of spirits to Otherworld. One by one

the good souls of Blessing were turned to stone and

sent on to their grisly fate, until only the noble

Eriel remained. The spectacle that followed was meant

to degrade Eriel and raise the courage of the cowardly

supplicants of Evilsyde, but true to his

indominantable bearing, he promised to return and

banish Evilsyde forever. Then he was gone.

The horrors of Otherworld are now revealed to the

masses huddled together for some small measure of

comfort. First the adults were separated from their

children amid cries and pleas for help. Next the old

ones were taken away and assigned to a place very near

the assimilation site. They were guarded by monstrous,

misshapen denizens of this shrouded netherland, who

constantly harangued the inmates with promises of pain

and extermination. Intermittent bursts of flame shot

up from jagged cracks in the ground, threatening to

consume anyone in its path. Shrieks of torment could

be heard piercing the murky atmosphere, further

unnerving the petrified captives. Only one seemed

unaffected by all the inflicted fear and turmoil.

Eriel's strength and determination soon pacified the

men and women with whom he was confined. When they all

became more calm and subdued, he began to speak to

them softly as an adult to his children. "Long ago you

entrusted me to protect the Book of Magica and to be

faithful to its special purpose. It must seem that I

have failed you and condemned us all to oblivion, but

fear not! This hell is only a test of your faith and

resolve. The power of Magica did not vanish in fire.

On the third day I will evoke the spell of

Restoration. United we shall return to Blessing and,

armed with the strength of Magica, we will be

triumphant. Many will perish, but Magica and our souls

cannot be restored until three days have passed. Take

heart my friends. Victory awaits you."

Even magic has its limitations and as Eriel explained

to his flock, the spell could not be activated until a

waiting period of at least three days. One third of

the souls of Blessing would be melded into the

Evilsyde collective before Eriel could be effective

with the words of Restoration.

The old ones were the first to go. Cries of

encouragement and hope were shouted to the condemned

as they trudged slowly to their fate. One by one they

were thrown into the assimilation chamber where a

blinding blue spark gave evidence of their demise.

With each burst Eriel's heavy heart ached with guilt

for his part in this slaughter of his charges. If only

he had not become so complacent. He above

all should never have let this tragedy transpire.

In the compound holding the young adults, an

insurrection of sorts was occurring. A boy of

seventeen years called Challis was urging an uprising

among his captured companions. Futile though it was,

it earned Challis a place in the cell adjoining

Eriel's. His rantings and ravings were soon quelled by

Eriel's quiet urging and the two settled into serious

conversation. Eriel knew his time of assimilation was

near and only hoped it would not be scheduled before

the three day waiting period for Restoration was

ended. Shadowcast wanted to personally oversee Eriel's

termination but couldn't abandon his duties on Blessing

until all was secure.Would there be enough time?

Eriel realized some of his own strong qualities in

Challis and decided that this was an opportunity not

to be lost. He instructed Challis to remove all anger

from his mind and hate from his heart. Only the pure

could receive and transmit this most important of

spells. Convinced that this young man was ready, he

joined with his spirit and gave him these words.

"Sanasha Gorath Sollis Arcanna," Words that would

resurrect the masses if delivered correctly and in time.

Over two days had passed before Shadowcast was ready

for travel to Otherworld to deliver Eriel to his fate.

His journey through Otherworld was marked by what

could pass for cheers, if they weren't shouted from

the mouths of utterly inhuman shapes and forms. Upon

his arrival he instructed the guards to take him

straight to Eriel. Once there he announced with great

satisfaction that he would personally supervise

Eriel's execution in a matter of hours. Nearby,

Challis loudly voiced his objection to this treatment

of his newly met hero and was rewarded by kicks and

punches until he could no longer speak. Eriel's heart

sank. Had he misjudged Challis and entrusted his

people's future to a reckless youth? Eriel's mind

wandered to his own younger days. He too had been

restless and foolhardy, but in time had outgrown these

traits and become the adored leader of Blessing. He

wondered if Challis had yet experienced love. Eriel

himself had turned his back on the beautiful and

innocent Annica. She was his intended from birth, but

he couldn't let love for this saintly child cloud his

duties to Blessing and the Book.

One hour remained in the wait for Restoration. Eriel's

hopes were soaring. Surely Shadowcast would fail once

again. But as that thought surfaced, so did Evilsyde's

dark leader. Eriel was led away with head held high,

but as he passed Challis he gave just the slightest

nod. A gesture that wasn't lost on the youth. Eriel

was then taken to the assimilation chamber and

strapped to the cross-like structure in the middle of

the room. Seconds were all that stood in the way of

resurrection or destruction. Shadowcast walked to

Eriel, presumably to gloat one last time to his old

nemesis. Eriel welcomed the time that would be wasted,

but at the last moment Shadowcast seemed to reconsider

and raised his arm in signal for the end to begin. The

arm dropped and, with crackle and hiss, Eriel was no

more. Shadowcast and his minions erupted with joy.

Never again to be slaves. Now to be masters.

Challis heard the cheering and knew that Eriel had

passed without time to summon the spell. Now only he

could influence the future. He heard the rattling of

armor and realized they were coming for him. Soon the

guards appeared and dragged the struggling Challis

from his confinement. One of his jailers struck him a

mighty blow across the face and suddenly all his anger

left him. He was sure of what he must do. Thunder

starts from silence and he would be thunder.

Challis was taken to the chamber and secured to the

cross. Shadowcast approached him and asked if he had

any last thing to say before assimilation. Challis

smiled and said he did. Then with an evil laugh,

Shadowcast raised his arm and announced that his

question was only a final killing joke. It was now or

never. As the arm fell in signal, Challis shouted out

the spell: "Sanasha Gorath Sollis Arcanna" and all

hell actually broke loose. Challis and the good folk

of Blessing were bathed in an incredible rush of

light. Shadowcast and all his wicked throng writhed in

agony in the darkness they were spawned from, as the

fierce illumination sought them out and consumed each

troll, ogre and gargoyle in a horrible melting frenzy.

Shadowcast, hiding in the last black space to be

found, watched the light creep irresistibly toward

him. At the last moment he cloaked his body with his

unpriestly robe and muttered what sounded like an oath

as the light touched the cloth. The robe erupted into

flame and then there was nothing. Surely Shadowcast

was also consumed by fire! But that tale would not yet

be told. Now as each remaining citizen of Blessing was

transported instantly back to their home, they found

themselves standing among thousands of recognizable

stone statues. These monuments represented their

fallen comrades and would ever be a lasting testament

to the dangers of evil and the power of Magica.

Now came the time of mourning. Funeral pyres

brightened the night sky for weeks and songs of sorrow

could be heard across the land long after the flames

had sputtered and died. When the prolonged periods of

grieving had ended, the citizens and their council

directed attention to the task of anointing a new

leader and protector of the restored Book of Magica.

The choice seemed a simple one. Challis had

resurrected the populace and the Book, but many

questioned his youth and inexperience.

The debate raged on as the time of choosing approached.

The candidates were summoned to the sacred

place. Eloquent speeches were made on behalf of them

all. Only Challis lacked a champion and it seemed

certain that he would be passed over. "Will anyone

speak for the boy?" asked the council. The question

was greeted by silence as the judges turned away to

cast their votes. Then the quiet was broken. A

handsome woman with golden hair, now flecked with

traces of gray, spoke: "Challis must be chosen. This

is the secret I have carried with me for all these

years. Although I was once rebuffed by my only true

love, Eriel, our brief union produced the young man

standing before you. Eriel was never to know that he

had sired this free spirit, but he will live on

through his son's achievements if you now find him

worthy." So spoke Annica, mother of Challis.

The decision was now reached quickly. Annica's

revelation left little doubt in the minds of the

councillors that Challis should indeed succeed his

father. Evilsyde had been defeated, Shadowcast was

hopefully destroyed, Challis had been chosen to lead

his people and, despite the huge number of casualties,

the old way of life began again. But, evil does not

easily die. Shadowcast did indeed survive and persist

in his attempts to challenge and conquer Blessing.

Great battles would be fought. Brave heroes would rise

to the occasion and legends were created. There was,

of course, the unforgettable War of the Darkpeace when

Challis..... Ah! But that's another story!