[color=white][h3]Beginnings of Magic and The Grand Magic Games[/h3][/color]
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[i]“ [b]T[/b]he Lord of Magic is a tale that will never be told correctly ... what a shame.”[/i][/center]

	“[b]T[/b]he Lord of Magic was no ordinary man. He had the will to move the unmovable, to carry mountains on his shoulders. The ability and genius to create spells that no mere mortal could comprehend. In the time of Ishgar, when dragons and humans were battled. One being stood above the rest—one  who could not be called human, demon, or god—was the hope of mankind.” The female voice, both childish and innocent, rung through the glistening hall of the King's throne room. 

	“[b]H[/b]e fought the Kings of Dragons but could do little harm them when alone. When it became hopeless and all was lost, he was the one that requested help from the Dragons themselves. He was the first Dragon Slayer. But like all things, such magic came with a price. He lost his immortality and was condemned to death once he ended the bestial tyranny. Even still, he died with a smile.”  The little girl stood from her knees and stared hard at the King in the attendance. 

[hider=Broven G. Fiore][center][img]http://i.imgur.com/gFCEfEc.png[/img][/center][/hider]
	“[b]A[/b]nd,” said a renowned voice, soothing, deep, and not kindly. “[b]W[/b]hat does that have to do with me? Why have you brought yourself before me? groveling on your knees with pitiful tales. That is a myth. Everyone knows its a tale to explain the Grand Magic Games. The Lord died and the Wizards fought amongst each other to established rule. [i]My[/i] ancestor created these games as a means to lessen the chaos … blase blah. Tis the end of your visit. LEAVE.” he ordered with a flourish of immaculate fur-lined coat and a kingly gait to his throne. 

	The girl raised a brow, a maturity touching her face suddenly. “ [b]Y[/b]ou forget the past and surely you'll repeat it.” She turned to leave, her small feet pattering against the cool floor. The echoes granted her last words a godly doom. “ [b]D[/b]estruction is ruled by a God and that God strikes when the times are best.”

	[b]B[/b]roven paused his walk, staring with callous towards the girl. When she disappeared from his sights, he turned to his assistant and told him to begin the announcements for the games.

[hr]

	[b]I[/b]n the judge's booth, three judges looked around the stadium, all was filled to capacity. The loud cheers and waving flags of guild symbols painted the scene before them, their was no need for them to announce it. But the head judge knew it was his job. The round coliseum that was looked over by four guardians roared with excitement, even as the head speaker spoke. 

	“[b]G[/b]reetings ladies and gents. This moments marks the beginnings of the annual Grand Magic Games. Let it be a spectacular show. Our guilds and wizards are still arriving but soon, we will introduce you all to a few favorites and a couple of new ones. Harpy Wing and Viper Bolt for one as returned. And word is that Sabertooth has emerged from the caverns of forgotten guilds,” he chuckled. “[b]A[/b]long with a few new ones. Unity is sweeping the requests away within the shadows … I actually had to call in favors to gather that sliver of information. Let's just say this year won't disappoint!” 

	The cheers of crowd drowned out the last of his words. 

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[color=red][h2]S A B L E[/h2][/color]

	[b]S[/b]itting amongst four others, who each was bidding their time, Sable played with a wooden top a young fan had presented to him earlier. The boy was fond of Reign: his facade of a wizard, just as many others were. But he hadn't expected such a heart warming gift. He clutched it tightly. The dark room of which the guild he had entered with had been assigned a rather large room, one much too big for five wizards. Their symbol, a dull crow was on the wall on navy material. 

	 [b]H[/b]e had imagined that the others would be looking out for his signature Dragon Slayer Magic, a hindrance that, through extreme anger, pushed him to using a long buried magic. Opening his hand, he willed the top forwards before spinning it. It spun as if moved by a powerful hand in mid-air, perfectly stable on the still currents. 

	[color=red] “[b]L[/b]et the games begin.”[/color] he muttered to himself, porcelain scarf hanging from his leather belt and onto the floor.