There once was a man hailing from a village surrounded by many others each with their own diverse and unique cultures, beliefs and practices, only poverty serves as their bridge to one another. From his village, he would climb a tall hill to gaze upon the neighboring communities, praying one day they would unite to form one large nation that would surely end their strife and hardships.
Once the man was of age he began his plan for union and led to the streets of each village preaching to each of their heads the wealth and riches they could obtain from oneness and unity. Each head, stubborn and unwilling to forgo their ways, refused him, some to the extent of banishing him from their land.
When all hope seemed to fade from his eyes and the fire of passion began to die, a mysterious man appeared before him on his tall hilltop. He offered his assistance in exchange for a place for his people in the man's envisioned promised land. Without hesitation, he accepted. He promised the man and his people a place in his great nation. The stranger revealed himself as a Wizard, a practitioner of the mystic arts, and asked if he would still accept his offer. Without a second thought, the man agreed.
The man then asked, "How will you succeed where I have failed?" Puzzled, he watched as the Wizard smiled sheepishly. "With just three miracles."
The Wizard led him to a barren field near a stagnant river, where he would perform his three miracles. First, he pulled a single seedling from his hat, planted it in the dry earth, and drew a strange symbol upon it. From the ground, a sapling sprouted. Soon, the entire field was covered with crops, each one bearing fruits enough to feed thousands. The Wizard grinned. "One down, two more to go."
The man gasped, kneeling to pluck the plants. But the more he pulled, the more they grew back. He could scarcely believe his eyes.
The Wizard, unfazed, waded into the stagnant river until half his body was submerged. He whispered a short prayer, a tear fell from his eye, and it dropped into the water, igniting a ripple that cleared the river, turning the foul, muddy water crystal clear. The Wizard stretched, muttering, "Two down, one to go."
The man, awestruck, saw the river transformed—a once-putrid, waste-filled body of water had become a serene reflection of the sky. He watched in stunned silence. The Wizard then told him, "The last miracle is the Blessing of the Witch, a ceremony only the head of a coven can perform."
The Wizard knelt, praying for several minutes. When he stood again, the man looked around, expecting some great spectacle, but saw nothing. Confused, he asked the Wizard to explain.
"The Blessing of the Witch isn't flashy," the Wizard said softly. "It's a plea to the unseen forces to grant us luck and fortune—so long as we keep our word."
Although impressed, the man now felt a chill of fear at the Wizard's power. He pushed aside his unease, focused on his goal, and used the Wizard's gifts—the oasis, the crops, and the blessings—to unite the villages. With the Oasis at its center, the man's great nation, Argariya, came to be.
Years passed. Argariya flourished as a dominant power in the north with abundant natural resources and manpower. But as the kingdom grew, so did its need to expand. Four new communities were founded, three surrounding the Oasis, which had been renamed Enortita. The slogan, From Many, We Become One in Peace, became the nation's creed. The man, now revered as King Idris, stood at the heart of the prosperous land.
Yet, despite the kingdom's success, the seeds of fear that the Wizard had planted years ago had taken root. King Idris feared the return of the Wizard and his power. Knowing that he had to uphold his word to avoid losing everything, he prepared a deal for the Wizard's return.
As he rested atop a hill one evening, basking in the present that had once been his dream, the Wizard appeared once more. "It is time for my people to come," the Wizard said.
King Idris agreed but insisted that the Wizard and his people stay in the land he had prepared for them. The Wizard, curious, asked why. "For peace," the king explained. "For the sake of peace between your people and the rest of Argariya." He reassured the Wizard that it wouldn't be for long.
After some convincing, the Wizard agreed, and a contract was drawn up. The wizards moved into one of the divisions, becoming part of Argariya.
Generations passed, and the coven that had settled in Argariya found themselves still confined to their designated division, unable to leave without forfeiting the blessing given by their ancestors. Their patience grew thin. The coven, once honored, was now seen as a threat, cast aside as their power was feared.
As tensions grew, the head of the coven, a powerful witch unmatched in her generation, was determined to seek justice—peacefully, if possible. She knew the promise made to her ancestors had been long neglected, but she believed in peace above all else. She gathered four of her most trusted coven members and set out to reason with the reigning king.
The journey was long and fraught with isolation from their own people. When they finally arrived at the castle, the head of the coven, though uncertain, entered with grace. She was not met with hostility, but with surprising hospitality.
She spoke from the heart, sharing the plight of her people, still confined to their "glorified cages," as she put it. The King, moved by her words, assured her that he was nothing like his ancestors. He saw the beauty in magic and wanted to integrate it into the future of Argariya. However, he warned her that the people of Argariya may not share his views.
He proposed a solution: if the head of the coven could form a council of five—comprising the strongest members of her coven—to govern the use of magic and find ways to incorporate it into the development of Argariya, perhaps the rest would see reason. The head of the coven, seeing no issue with this, agreed. She chose the four with her to complete the council, and the contract was signed.
From that day forward, the coven was free to roam beyond their division. Magic was no longer feared. It was embraced as part of the nation's ongoing development, and the people of Argariya—no longer divided—became truly united in peace.
"But peace, my little star," her voice softened, "isn't always a simple thing."
Not everyone in Argariya welcomed the change. The new proclamation, while liberating for the witches, sowed a deep-seated fear in the hearts of many. From that fear grew whispers in the dark, and from whispers, movements. There were those who believed that magic, no matter how tightly governed, would one day consume the land. Protesters gathered in markets, activists scrawled warnings on walls, and in the shadows, more sinister groups formed, calling for a return to the old ways.
The mother's voice trembled slightly as she continued. "It was... complicated. Some say that, by breaking free, we only planted new chains—chains made of distrust and resentment." Her hand stilled over the baby's soft curls. "And those chains, little one, have not yet broken."
She gazed at the tiny face, searching for something she couldn't name. "Your grandmother, Mayura… she believed she was doing what was right. She thought peace could be bargained, that the world could be mended with promises and councils. Perhaps she was right, for a time. But her choices left scars, deep ones, and they still ache even now."
Her voice dropped to a whisper, barely audible over the crackle of the hearth. "I only hope, my little star, that when the time comes, you will find a better way."
The baby stirred but didn't wake, her tiny fingers curling around her mother's. A faint smile tugged at the woman's lips, weary yet hopeful. "For now, you are safe. And you will grow to shine brighter than any dream I've ever had."
The gentle hum of the city echoed faintly in the distance, a murmur of life and unrest. The words of the old slogan hung in the air, bittersweet and heavy with meaning:
"Ex Multis, Ad Unum in Pace."
("From Many, We Become One in Peace.")
And for that night, at least, peace reigned in their little corner of the world.