Curse of the moon

In a faraway time, when magic ruled the world and creatures of the night haunted the streets, power was the one thing that controlled everything. Power over yourself - your actions, your surroundings and even your thoughts - power over the others - submitting them, forcing them to bend to your will and taking away their free will. It was the one thing that everyone knew and they all obeyed, greedy creatures asking for more and not fearing the unknown anymore, but just diving into it and leaving a mess and, more than often, a trail of blood behind them.

Once, it had been a peaceful land. Once, all the magic had been united and the people had worked together to protect their family, their loved ones, the stranger from across the street. They had lived in peace and hadn't feared the following day, they had been looking forward to it with open hearts and curious minds. Everything had been shattered though in a matter of seconds and it had only needed a man, that fragile and breakable it had been. One mad had risen from them all and had said - I want more.

But there isn't more to have, the others had replied to him.

Then I'll take it by force! He had announced and fear had started installing in the hearts of people.

And take he had done. He had stolen magic and had used it for his own benefit, chasing people into hideouts and haunting their secrets, wanting to know more about the magic that made them glow and shiver. Distrust had taken its place between everyone and, soon, the secrets weren't spilled out anymore and the magic was carefully stored away, for only those who had it to wield it.

And so, the greatest four classes of magic users had been born.

The mages - the weakest ones who needed sacrifices for their magic to work, using objects and molding them into pure force or into the more suitable object that headed to their needs, their magic weak but dangerous in the wrong hands who could try to change the shape of everything;

The wizards - the ones who wielded a wand for their magic to work, using spells and incantations for healing or attacks, holding an impressive power and unleashing it all at once, being able to destroy everything in its way and not leave any survivor, be it an object or a human being;

The sorcerers - the most powerful ones, who didn't need anything for their magic to work because they controlled the magic itself; wind and fire listened to them, the oceans calmed down at their order and the earth crumbled at a simple thought of theirs. The powers of nature were the most dangerous possible and they controlled them all, each sorcerer specialized on a certain power and being able to bring out the best - or the worst - in it.

And then came them. The dark ones, the descendants of the first being to have wanted more than what was possible, the ones who made people shiver in their way and left only disaster in their wake. Warlocks, it was what they called themselves and the name fitted them as they had a heart dark like the night and eyes cutting like a sharp knife. They lied, they cheated, they only cared about themselves - and they still wanted everything.

People feared warlocks and used magic to protect themselves of them, until it was stolen from their bare hands and never recovered. Their number was small, but the terror was true, growing and thickening until it was going to break them all apart, always shadowing threateningly over them and not letting them be free.

And this is where our story begins.