The world, as it is now understood, was not always bathed in the structured flow of mana.
Before the Great Sundering, an age existed shrouded in myth, where magic was a wild, untamed force, woven into the very fabric of reality in ways modern scholars barely comprehend.
Humanity lived in relative ignorance, blissfully unaware of the thin veil separating their mundane existence from the monstrous forces lurking just beyond.
This fragile peace shattered with the Great Sundering. No one truly knows its cause—some legends whisper of a cosmic cataclysm, others of a devastating magical war gone awry.
What is certain is its effect: the veil tore. Through these rents poured the demon armies and monstrous incursions, creatures born of the Void, a realm of chaos and hunger.
They were grotesque, chitinous, and driven by an insatiable desire to consume, to corrupt. Cities burned, nations crumbled, and humanity faced annihilation.
In humanity's darkest hour, a new power emerged, not through discovery, but through desperation.
The inherent energy of the world, previously unseen or misunderstood, began to coalesce, to respond to the sheer will to survive.
This was mana. Individuals, often by sheer accident or overwhelming necessity, found they could instinctively tap into this raw essence, shaping it, channeling it, and using it to fight back.
This nascent ability quickly evolved. Scholars and pioneers, driven by the urgency of war, began to categorize and harness mana.
They discovered its elemental forms: the searing power of Fire, the unyielding strength of Earth, the surging flow of Water, the unpredictable rush of Wind, and the profound stillness of Spirit.
Mana became the sword and shield of humanity. Great mana-casters rose, leading the charge against the Void-born horrors. Cities were reborn, protected by formidable mana-wards and intricate magical defenses.
The demon armies were pushed back, their relentless tide stemmed, though never fully defeated. They still scratch at the edges of reality, a constant, chilling reminder of the Sundering.
Generations passed. The ability to channel mana became commonplace, almost a birthright for most. Society rebuilt itself around this power; its presence dictated trade, governance, and defense.
Grand academies were founded to teach control, discipline, and the history of the wars that forged their civilization.
Textbooks recounted the heroism of Elemental Generals who had faced down abominations, of great mana-forged weapons that had cleaved through darkness.
The world now believed itself secure, protected by the omnipresent flow of mana and the vigilance of its wielders. Without mana, humanity understood, they would simply be prey.
They lived in an age of managed power, largely oblivious to the forgotten truths of a time when the world was different, when magic was not just a tool, but a primal force, and when survival sometimes demanded ingenuity beyond the mere channeling of energy.