Magica Story - Dio

It has been a thousand years since the once powerful planet
of Blessing lost its life-giving two suns, and countless
millennia since the days of the great magicians. An expedition
of alien voyagers came upon the now ice-covered sphere,
drawn there by an unexplained lone beacon far below the
miles of frozen moisture, they unlocked a written history of
Blessing from its almost undiscovered tomb. So begins the
story of Magica.

It was a time of celebration. The Book of Magica and the
wizards who had used its spells so wisely for the good of the
people were being honored in all the great cities of the world.
There was however an exception. Where good thrives, evil
survives and evil has plans for survival.

The celebration of thanks and prosperity would signal the
forces of Evilsyde to begin the attack and ultimate capture
and destruction of Magica. The spells from the Book would be
used to turn all of those unwilling to join Evilsyde into statues
of stone and send their spirits to Otherworld, where they
would eventually be assimilated into the energy needed to
drive Evilsyde, and maintain its power without the necessity
of the Book and its incantations forever.

Defenses were naturally relaxed during the festive
preparations and although the battle was well-fought by both
factions, the minions of the dark prevailed. Their assault was
well-planned and executed to a fault. After overwhelming
their initial opposition, they pushed on to the sacred ground
upon which the Book of Magica rested. They possessed a
much weaker form of magic themselves, and although it
would be normally quite useless against the strength of
Magica, the inability of the Wizards to gather themselves
together in time, coupled with the perfect timing and
determination of the attackers, spelled doom for the Book
and its followers.

The leader of the insurrection was the high priest and
executioner known as Shadowcast. His presence could make
the naughtiest of children become obedient and inspire great
fear among the adult population. This man, most vile, would
now be ruler of all and answerable to none. His reign would
plunge Blessing into eternal darkness and prepare the way
for the coming of his master, Astoroth, the Grand Duke of
Hell.

The capture of Magica did not, however, mean that
Shadowcast had finally reached his goal. He must now find
and conquer Blessing’s Grand Wizard and legendary hero,
Eriel. Eriel, who defeated Evilsyde time and again with his
understanding and use of Magica’s spells. He would be the
last stumbling block to total domination.

Eriel had removed himself from the general population in
anticipation of everlasting peace and now he devoted all of
his energy to meditation and praise of his God. Lately though,
he had been visited by many temptations in his dreams.
Promises of pleasure, riches and power raced through his
sleeping mind. All these lures had been placed there by
Shadowcast, hoping to avoid confrontation between this
dominant man and his own villainous forces. Eriel however
had resisted these solicitations and was now warned of some
impending danger. He managed to make his way to the
sacred ground by cloaking his identity with simple spells, only
to be discovered just before his attempt to rescue the Book of
Magica, but not before he was able to memorize the most
important of Magica’s charms. The spell of Restoration.

The ceremony of thanksgiving was now directed toward the
transmission of spirits to Otherworld. One by one the good
souls of Blessing were turned to stone and sent on to their
grisly fate, until only the noble Eriel remained. The spectacle
that followed was meant to degrade Eriel and raise the
courage of the cowardly supplicants of Evilsyde, but true to
his indominantable bearing, he promised to return and banish
Evilsyde forever. Then he was gone.

The horrors of Otherworld are now revealed to the masses
huddled together for some small measure of comfort. First
the adults were separated from their children amid cries and
pleas for help. Next the old ones were taken away and
assigned to a place very near the assimilation site. They were
guarded by monstrous, misshapen denizens of this mist-
shrouded netherland, who constantly harangued the inmates
with promises of pain and extermination. Intermittent bursts
of flame shot up from jagged cracks in the ground,
threatening to consume anyone in its path. Shrieks of torment
could be heard piercing the murky atmosphere, further
unnerving the petrified captives. Only one seemed unaffected
by all the inflicted fear and turmoil. Eriel’s strength and
determination soon pacified the men and women with whom
he was confined. When they all became more calm and
subdued, he began to speak to them softly as an adult to his
children. “Long ago you entrusted me to protect the Book of
Magica and to be faithful to its special purpose. It must seem
that I have failed you and condemned us all to oblivion, but
fear not! This hell is only a test of your faith and resolve. The
power of Magica did not vanish in fire. On the third day I will
evoke the spell of Restoration. United we shall return to
Blessing and, armed with the strength of Magica, we will be
triumphant. Many will perish, but Magica and our souls cannot
be restored until three days have passed. Take heart my
friends. Victory awaits you.”

Even magic has its limitations and, as Eriel explained to his
flock, the spell could not be activated until a waiting period of
at least three days. One third of the souls of Blessing would
be melded into the Evilsyde collective before Eriel could be
effective with the words of Restoration.

The old ones were the first to go. Cries of encouragement
and hope were shouted to the condemned as they trudged
slowly to their fate. One by one they were thrown into the
assimilation chamber where a blinding blue spark gave
evidence of their demise. With each burst Eriel’s heavy heart
ached with guilt for his part in this slaughter of his charges. If
only he had not become so complacent. He above all should
never have let this tragedy transpire.

In the compound holding the young adults, an insurrection of
sorts was occurring. A boy of seventeen years called Challis
was urging an uprising among his captured companions. Futile
though it was, it earned Challis a place in the cell adjoining
Eriel’s. His rantings and ravings were soon quelled by Eriel’s
quiet urging and the two settled into serious conversation.
Eriel knew his time of assimilation was near and only hoped it
would not be scheduled before the three day waiting period
for Restoration was ended. Shadowcast wanted to personally
oversee Eriel’s termination but couldn’t abandon his duties on
Blessing until all was secure. Would there be enough time?


Eriel realized some of his own strong qualities in Challis and
decided that this was an opportunity not to be lost. He
instructed Challis to remove all anger from his mind and hate
from his heart. Only the pure could receive and transmit this
most important of spells. Convinced that this young man was
ready, he joined with his spirit and gave him these
words. “Sanasha Gorath Sollis Arcanna.” Words that would
resurrect the masses if delivered correctly and in time.

Over two days had passed before Shadowcast was ready for
travel to Otherworld to deliver Eriel to his fate. His journey
through Otherworld was marked by what could pass for
cheers, if they weren’t shouted from the mouths of utterly
inhuman shapes and forms. Upon his arrival he instructed the
guards to take him straight to Eriel. Once there he announced
with great satisfaction that he would personally supervise
Eriel’s execution in a matter of hours. Nearby, Challis loudly
voiced his objection to this treatment of his newly met hero
and was rewarded by kicks and punches until he could no
longer speak. Eriel’s heart sank. Had he misjudged Challis
and entrusted his people’s future to a reckless youth? Eriel’s
mind wandered to his own younger days. He too had been
restless and foolhardy, but in time had outgrown these traits
and become the adored leader of Blessing. He wondered if
Challis had yet experienced love. Eriel himself had turned his
back on the beautiful and innocent Annica. She was his
intended from birth, but he couldn’t let love for this saintly
child cloud his duties to Blessing and the Book.

One hour remained in the wait for Restoration. Eriel’s hopes
were soaring. Surely Shadowcast would fail once again. But
as that thought surfaced, so did Evilsyde’s dark leader. Eriel
was led away with head held high, but as he passed Challis
he gave just the slightest nod. A gesture that wasn’t lost on
the youth. Eriel was then taken to the assimilation chamber
and strapped to the cross-like structure in the middle of the
room. Seconds were all that stood in the way of resurrection
or destruction. Shadowcast walked to Eriel, presumably to
gloat one last time to his old nemesis. Eriel welcomed the
time that would be wasted, but at the last moment
Shadowcast seemed to reconsider and raised his arm in
signal for the end to begin. The arm dropped and, with
crackle and hiss, Eriel was no more. Shadowcast and his
minions erupted with joy. Never again to be slaves. Now to be
masters.

Challis heard the cheering and knew that Eriel had passed
without time to summon the spell. Now only he could
influence the future. He heard the rattling of armor and
realized they were coming for him. Soon the guards appeared
and dragged the struggling Challis from his confinement. One
of his jailers struck him a mighty blow across the face and
suddenly all his anger left him. He was sure of what he must
do. Thunder starts from silence and he would be thunder.

Challis was taken to the chamber and secured to the cross.
Shadowcast approached him and asked if he had any last
thing to say before assimilation. Challis smiled and said he
did. Then with an evil laugh, Shadowcast raised his arm and
announced that his question was only a final killing joke. It
was now or never. As the arm fell in signal, Challis shouted
out the spell. “Sanasha Gorath Sollis Arcanna” and all hell
actually broke loose. Challis and the good folk of Blessing
were bathed in an incredible rush of light. Shadowcast and all
his wicked throng writhed in agony in the darkness they were
spawned from, as the fierce illumination sought them out and
consumed each troll, ogre and gargoyle in a horrible melting
frenzy. Shadowcast, hiding in the last black space to be
found, watched the light creep irresistibly toward him. At the
last moment he cloaked his body with his unpriestly robe and
muttered what sounded like an oath as the light touched the
cloth. The robe erupted into flame and then there was
nothing. Surely Shadowcast was also consumed by fire! But
that tale would not yet be told. Now as each remaining citizen
of Blessing was transported instantly back to their home, they
found themselves standing among thousands of recognizable
stone statues. These monuments represented their fallen
comrades and would ever be a lasting testament to the
dangers of evil and the power of Magica.


Now came the time of mourning. Funeral pyres brightened the
night sky for weeks and songs of sorrow could be heard
across the land long after the flames had sputtered and died.
When the prolonged periods of grieving had ended, the
citizens and their council directed attention to the task of
anointing a new leader and protector of the restored Book of
Magica. The choice seemed a simple one. Challis had
resurrected the populace and the Book, but many questioned
his youth and inexperience.

The debate raged on as the time of choosing approached. The
candidates were summoned to the sacred place. Eloquent
speeches were made on behalf of them all. Only Challis
lacked a champion and it seemed certain that he would be
passed over. “Will anyone speak for the boy?” asked the
council. The question was greeted by silence as the judges
turned away to cast their votes. Then the quiet was broken. A
handsome woman with golden hair, now flecked with traces of
gray, spoke: “Challis must be chosen. This is the secret I
have carried with me for all these years. Although I was once
rebuffed by my only true love, Eriel, our brief union produced
the young man standing before you. Eriel was never to know
that he had sired this free spirit, but he will live on through his
son’s achievements if you now find him worthy.” So spoke
Annica, mother of Challis.

The decision was now reached quickly. Annica’s revelation left
little doubt in the minds of the councillors that Challis should
indeed succeed his father. Evilsyde had been defeated,
Shadowcast was hopefully destroyed, Challis had been
chosen to lead his people and, despite the huge number of
casualties, the old way of life began again. But, evil does not
easily die. Shadowcast did indeed survive and persist in his
attempts to challenge and conquer Blessing. Great battles
would be fought. Brave heroes would rise to the occasion and
legends were created. There was, of course, the
unforgettable War of the Darkpeace when Challis.........Ah!
But that’s another story.