1 The Birth of Fear

'What is this? Where am I?'

He floated, all alone, in the vast emptiness. Only a small inkling of thought able to worm its way into his conscious.

'Is this life? Or am I dead? Wait, what do those terms even mean? What am I exactly?'

This was it, this was his life. Time was lost as he sat there in the cold embrace of oblivion, only occasionally working up the strength for a loose train of thought. However, things started to change. It began when he heard a voice in this darkness, a mad cackle of a crazed man echoing through his sole existence.

'What was that? Am I not alone? But what is alone, what do all these words mean?'

Then, they appeared. A group of individuals, all dressed in a strange way, seemingly standing on the void. There were 5 of them, and they were arranged in a straight line. Although he could not see their faces, he could "feel" their gaze on him, judging him.

Suddenly, the one on the far left spoke. He was dressed in red and purple robes, reaching down far beneath what would be considered usual wear, on his face was a white mask depicting an angry ovular head, screaming in rage.

"I judge him unworthy of hate."

He then stepped back, and the one next to him stepped forward. This one was clothed in a gray robe, as if it was ash, and he wore on his face a gray mask that was looking on in anguish, the top left of it dissolving in dust continuously for all eternity.

"I judge him unworthy of destruction"

As this one stepped back, the middle approached. This one wore a robe of black, and on their face was a human skull.

"I judge him worthy of undeath"

He did not know why, but suddenly he felt as if he had power flow into his very existence, whatever that may mean. It was almost as if he could touch the void now, but it still escaped his grip.

The middle stepped back, as the next moved forward. This one was different, for it was as if he blended right into the void, only visible by a small outline, making his attire indescribable.

"I judge him worthy of shadows."

Again, the feeling of power entered him, but still he could not touch or feel anything besides this strange strength.

Finally, as the shadowed one retreated, the fifth and final one approached. This one was different, for the others seemed to always stay a step further from the fifth then they did the others. Try as he might, he could not figure out what he looked like. It was as if he knew he was there, but at the same time not. As if he existed outside time and space itself.

"I judge him worthy of new life, and shall be blessed once more with strength beyond time. May the world know that in life balance must exist, and for all the good that we grant this land, evil must always follow. May this spirit be cursed to be this evil, and may their time in this pit of darkness be forever forgotten. On this, I, God of Existence, do hereby proclaim!"

As millions before him, and millions that shall come after, the gods judged a child worthy of magic. Each who was to be born was judged by these gods, and if a god felt potential within them they were granted magic in their life.

Suddenly, he felt as if he was falling, faster and faster. He could finally feel something, and he wished he didn't. His spiritual being was being ripped apart slowly and painfully, as his soul was taken from the pits of darkness and thrown down onto the mortal realm. He tried to reach back, and figure out what those beings were, but suddenly it was all forgotten. It was as if it never happened.

The next thing he knew, he felt very cold. All of a sudden, something wrapped around him and bounced him as the only thing he could do was cry. Then he heard a feminine voice, announce to him and those around him.

"It's a boy!"