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T he Fae controlled the entire continent. Their rule was as natural as the heat of the sun in summer. Their power was as infinite as the stars in the sky.

There was peace between them as they spread their fingers and grasped at the land, teasing life from it, magic wild and new.

The wars began as most wars do: with a lust for more.

More power.

More magic.

More land.

All it resulted in was the near extinction of their entire race.

Save for a few, the violence and bloodshed between the Fae led to their downfall, and in their place, the humans, the mortals, began to proliferate. To take control of the once-magnificent Fae empires, their kingdoms and creation, even wielding magic they hardly understood.

Most of the remaining Fae went underground. Some fell in love with the rising humans, their bloodlines diluting, growing dormant… until one day they would be needed again.

The rest, though, the six strongest of the Fae, the once-rulers of mighty kingdoms, grew more powerful, their magic manifesting in new and different ways.

The humans called them gods, and the six strongest Fae were only too pleased.

Worship, though, is a magic of its own.

A magic more unpredictable than the six Fae rulers could fathom, and it changed everything.

The once vital land of Heska began to decline as the magic-infused earth was drained over time. The now immortal six, the so-called gods of Heska, fell into a world between worlds, drifting in and out of reality as the wheel of time creaked onward.

The equilibrium of magic power, already askew after the blood-drenched Fae violence, grew more and more imbalanced—one goddess bent towards entropy and rusting the cogs of fate.

Fate calls for balance to the chaos.

Death answers her plea.