Introduction

Welcome to Deruthe and the entrancing cosmos of the Vaylixes. Just in case you’ve been there before, you’ll likely find it at least somewhat recognizable, for Deruthe and its adjoining Realms are quite roughly parallel to our own first to the tenth, and then to the twenty-first century United States of Africa, United Kingdom, and the United States of America in terms of culture, diverse similarities of social structures, the level of technology, and the influence of a quite powerful medieval spiritual stronghold that extends its machinations into the lives of nearly everyone, rich or poor, high-born or low, wizard or Lermil. Well, the major difference however, apart from personalities and places recorded in annals; is that magic really works, and rulership is sacred, because most inhabitants of the Wizarding Realm of Deruthe are a race of sorcerers. You could say Witches and Wizards. Demigods.

In a sense, the term “Vaylixes” is almost an incongruity to describe Lord Hornlet Loozeron’s deathly shadows and their capabilities, because much of what the Deathly Vaylixes did falls under the general category of what many of today would term as Extrasensory Perception; otherwise known as ESP. Hornlet Loozeron was a gracious boy of four when he was told by the knack of his father, Lord Rage Hornlepuff, that he was a wizard.

            As was done for most kid wizards, Hornlet Loozeron was enlisted into the Leviathan Wizarding School of Gerzziert at the age of eleven. Imbibing huge masses of Dark Arts into his Vault, he proceeded into Gramway to be a teacher of philosophy where he conspiringly imparted a measure of his Dark Arts into his students. Caught by the Sect, he was expelled and placed on a year’s detention in the Wolverine Willows where winter was said to be an eternal phenomenon, but was later cast into the Prison for Unruly wizards; Magridinol, by higher wizarding authorities.

            Telepathy, telekinesis, teleportation, and supplementary paranormal phenomena were functions many were beginning to suspect to be far more realistic then they had dreamed. The Wizarding Realm of Deruthe was within the muscular arms of a fatherland with Zaccrota, as her identity. This was a town normal Americans knew nothing about but rather existed within an enchanted Stronghold. As the entire world expectantly approached the threshold of the twenty-first century, and as science was continuously expanding human potentials and understanding, certain things which are classified as science today would have been magic to the superstitious in the Middle Ages.

            This was accurately the time the Government of magic and Magridinol became more effective to receive magic holders who went against the traditions of the American Government. Science was fading in the field of magic gradually, rendering it quite unadulterated. Hornlet Loozeron, having grown and gifted with good knowledge of science and magic felt mixing the two very different things was wrong and would break the pot of wine. Somewhat in his candid opinion that would create a simulation of what really magic was. He thus, made an assertion to the face of his students about magic, breaking the law of the Sect. The law was meant to protect the Lermil students (Non-Magic holders) against things about magic in order not to instill fear and insecurity in them. It was said by the Government that, the last thing they wanted was to have the no-magic folks become afraid of the things of witchcraft and wizardry. Otherwise exposure and a wizarding war could be aggravated. That however, buttressed the reason for Hornlet Loozeron’s sentence into gaol. The greatest law he broke was to break out of Magridinol and also to access the Chamber of Worlg where he became immortal. In this chamber rested innumerable figures of Goblins destined to be ruled by…It’s only a matter of time when you get to know who. Soon after he became a criminal, he became Lord of his own affairs thus; Lord Loozeron, but rather Drakeizar for fear of death for anyone who dared to speak the name. Speaking the name, Loozeron, was synonymous to invoking his cursed spell (Aucagergran). It was avoided by all persons, to at least stay alive. At this exact time was when the pangs of the Magridal Invasion reached out its outrages to the entire Wizarding Realm of Deruthe and was approximately told and recorded by Historians and famous story tellers to be the second wizarding war. But it wasn’t accurately proven to be, for this only took place within Deruthe and did not expand indignations to other Realms and for that matter the entire World – Wizarding and Non-Wizarding.

            The Magridal Invasion was an orchestrated requital instigated by the Leviathans and the International Amalgamation of Wizards (IAW). It was to retaliate at Drakeizar, Lord Loozeron for breaking out of the wizarding gaol and for risking the lives of the rest inmates. Thus, all the Magrids were released under a stinging spell to take revenge and to scud back into their cells to serve their sentences. The Magrids of Magridinol spent 11 years trying to ensure justice is served to counterpoise the injustice of Hornlet Loozeron and to bring back some sanity into Deruthe. Zaccrota turned nature to become their Hamlet. They lived, took wives and fathered as many children as the content of their respective epididymides could afford.

            The Magrids, then, had abilities and power connections that most wizards of the Realm found inaccessible – though Magrids weren’t omnipotent. The higher authorities of magic had given these prisoners so much power and influence because they feared Drakeizar might be too powerful to defeat with the limited powers of prisoners. At their best, the Magrids could represent the ideal of perfected wizardkind – what many other Non-Magic Holders could be, if they could learn to rise above their earthbound limitations and satisfy their highest destinies to reign in the Realm.

            With few exceptions, the use of one’s Magridal magic wasn’t something he must learn, but an aptitude he is endowed with, innately. They could teach non-Magic Holders to protect themselves but discretely, so as not to arouse discovery and trigger war. Their primary skills had to do with balances – psychic, physical, and spiritual – mastering one’s own perceptions and acuity. Without strife, they could cast spells of Dragonfire, kill in a matter of seconds, banish physical pain, provoke restful sleeps and undo fatigue.

            In view of this the Magridal revenge on Drakeizar was quite hoped to be successful but changed when the most unexpected thing happened. Drakeizar created his Vaylixes to safeguard his life when he was starting to dispense evil after he broke out of the wizarding gaol in the Penson Sea. It was by grace of his Dark Arts that his creation was possible. The Vaylix shadows were infused with his soul such that the Magrids would have to face the herculean burden of having to exterminate his souls to reach him. There were millions of them – the Vaylixes. Eventually the purpose for which the Government, IAW and the Leviathans released the Magrids into the Realm was due. The war between the Magrids and the Vaylixes of Drakeizar extended the winter of the time. It had been programmed to just outdo Drakeizar’s evil but his craft was far deathly than the Magrids had anticipated. Thus, there was a pandemic of diseases for which there weren’t any cure – Spanish flu, swine flu, progeria; mysterious deaths minds could not fathom; unchecked population growth overtook food production thus inciting a great famine that went down the time into hundreds of years; nuclear outbursts over which there wasn’t a single ounce of control. The Wizarding Realm of Deruthe was on the brink of total destruction.

            None of this happened overnight, of course. But the Vaylixes had never been few; and with the great Vaylix families gradually fallen down from favor or obliterated by the Magrids, most Lermils outside the immediate circles of sorcery, both temporal and spiritual, failed to realize how the balance was going until it was too late. The Magrids that had made families with Non-Magic Holders were easily killed by the shadows in the war, for that had broken the fundamental rule for which there was no available clemency. At this time was when Horggles were brought into existence. They were a resultant creation of magic holders that were birthed from intimate relations of Lermils with Magrids. These were also been killed as having relations with sorcerers.

            But then, the Leviathans could not continue to see deaths of Magrids and innocent Lermils and Horggles lose their lives for a consequence they weren’t deserving of. They automated the stinging spell they had cast on the Magrids and caused them to bounce back into their cells, leaving Drakeizar undefeated. Later after two years the magical community had been completely exposed for the sake of the riot and fear accompanied with insecurity was the order of the day, with the spell of Vardemos Flemming, the memory as well as all traces of Witchcraft and Wizardry in Zaccrota with respect to Lermils were wholly wiped. Peace was restored, the bereaved got over their dead. The situation was full of excellence and bliss. Don’t get this wrong…it wasn’t over. A Northerner seer prophesies the coming of the longest winter in wizarding history and that is Drakeizar’s initiative – whatsoever for! Some drew conclusions it was the second wizarding war. Others said Drakeizar was expressing his wrath for the Magridal invasion that had been launched at him years back…

A few hundred years go by…Zaccrota rises from the coercive grips of their beds and get plunged into the luxurious dawn of a new era. The salvation of Zaccrota rests on the scrawny shoulders of an ignorant Zaccrotian boy. He is an amazing kid, smart but ignorant in numerous estimations. You do not know him, but you will in due time. Words can’t explicitly qualify his personality for he is the son of the one who survived the Magridal war. His very legacy. His very creation. When he understands his archenemy well enough to defeat him, then in that moment, he also loves him. Contradictions of emotions battle in his mind and he finds no other way of dealing with his frustration than to institute a probe into the menacing occurrences showing its head – a signal that Drakeizar’s long winter is due.

            This is the Realm of Deruthe, a Realm of magic. A Realm in which only the fittest will survive the pangs of winter as the entire Realm is pinned on the brink of Armageddon. A Realm of mystery stretching her annexations into the enchanted vaults of history. Parchments of ancient wizards and gods are deciphered, huge labyrinthine secrets of Laetherys are spilled and the fate of the Vaylixes somewhat lie in the hands of the son of the one who survived. You are welcome to join the ride – it is one hell of a flight.