In ages now lost to memory, Magika was a single, vast world of unmatched beauty and advancement. Its lands were unified by arcane knowledge, and its people shaped reality through refined magic and forgotten sciences. Cities of stone and crystal spanned continents. Magic was stable, taught, and governed by systems that no longer exist.
At the heart of Magika existed the World-God, not a distant deity, but the living will of the planet itself. It guided the flow of magic, maintained the laws of nature, and ensured balance between creation and destruction. Mortals did not worship it as a king, but lived in harmony with its presence.
This age is remembered in fragments as the Radiant Age.
Beyond the boundaries of reality, beyond the laws that govern worlds, an Outer God became aware of Magika. This being did not come as a conqueror, but as a claimant. To it, Magika was an unfinished creation, a world to be seized and reshaped.
Its arrival broke the foundations of magic. Spells failed. Stars vanished from the sky. Entire regions experienced days that never ended, or nights that swallowed sound itself.
The World-God awakened fully, and for the first time, Magika became a battlefield.
The war that followed was unlike any conflict before or since. Mortals, dragons, ancient civilizations, and the World-God itself stood together against a being that did not obey reality.
Weapons were forged using principles long forgotten. Armies were sustained by magic drawn directly from the world’s core. Entire nations vanished in moments when the Outer God rewrote the laws of existence around them.
Victory came at an unimaginable cost.
The Outer God could not be destroyed. Instead, it was torn apart. Its body was shattered, its essence scattered, and its consciousness broken and buried within Magika itself.
The final strike saved the world, but destroyed it as well.
The death-blow fractured the planet.
Continents broke apart, sinking or rising into the sky. Oceans were born where empires once stood. The unified world collapsed into countless islands separated by vast seas and unstable magical currents.
Most of Magika’s population perished. The advanced systems that once governed magic collapsed overnight. Knowledge was lost, libraries burned, and the surviving peoples were thrown into a dark age.
This catastrophe is remembered as the Sundering.
The present age is one of slow recovery. Magika is now a medieval world of kingdoms, guilds, and scattered civilizations, built atop the ruins of a far greater past.
Castles rise from the foundations of ancient cities. Roads follow paths once carved by arcane machines. Relics of the Radiant Age are mistaken for divine artifacts or cursed objects.
Magic remains powerful but unstable. Spellcasting varies greatly between regions, and wild magic zones are common. Ancient spells are considered myths or forbidden knowledge.
Most people believe the stories of the Radiant Age are exaggerated. Few realize how much has truly been lost.
Where fragments of the Outer God fell, the land itself was corrupted. These regions are known as Godscarred Isles.
In these places, nature is warped. Mountains pulse as if alive. Forests grow flesh instead of bark. Time bends, memories fracture, and reality behaves unpredictably.
Travelers who return from these islands are often changed, carrying mutations, strange abilities, or lingering whispers in their minds.
Many Godscarred Isles remain unexplored, feared even by the bravest sailors.
The shattered body of the Outer God still exists within Magika. Its remnants are the most powerful and dangerous sources of magic in the world.
Fragments of its heart radiate limitless energy and corrupt desire. Shards of its eyes grant visions of the future at the cost of sanity. Its flesh mutates those who wield it, while its blood alters life itself. Bones of the Outer God can bend or overwrite the laws of nature within limited regions.
Kingdoms wage wars over these remains. Cultists worship them. Scholars study them in secret. Some heroes owe their power to them, whether they admit it or not.
The Outer God is dead, but not silent.
The World-God survived the war, but it was gravely wounded. Its consciousness is now fractured, spread thin across the land it once fully governed.
It can no longer act directly. Instead, it communicates through dreams, omens, natural disasters, and rare miracles. Clerics and druids do not serve a distant throne, but the suffering world itself.
The World-God’s remaining strength is focused on one purpose: preventing the Outer God from reforming.
Magika stands at a crossroads.
The world can be healed, slowly and painfully, through unity and restraint. Or it can be further broken by those who seek power in the remains of a fallen god.
The ruins of the past hold answers. The Godscarred Isles hold temptation. And somewhere beneath the seas and skies of Magika, the fragments of an Outer God wait to be claimed, destroyed, or made whole once more.
The fate of the world no longer lies with gods alone.
It lies with those who walk its broken lands.