Tales of Intiorem
Itrix was very young when, on that day, she washed her hands in the river and bright red light spilled from her fingers. She could not understand it then. She did not know those same lights marked the beginning of something greater than anyone could have imagined. They also carried part of the burden she would bear for many years. More years than I could count without losing track.
People in the village grew confused when she began asking questions about the lights, for no one else could see them. Her mother believed it was nothing more than a little girl's imagination and continued to ignore her. Oh, she certainly asked many curious questions, but the older folk were far too concerned with recovering from the Great War to pay attention to her.
Soon, the cold from the snowy lands and the lack of food drove a pack of starving wild dogs toward the village. They sensed fear among the villagers and stalked them carefully until the people finally moved to attack. It would have become a terrible tragedy if not for Itrix, who quietly stepped beside her father before anyone noticed, unnoticed even by her mother. There, magic flooded out of her like water.
Though I did not witness it myself, the rumors speak of a great display of magic. Yet I believe the true tragedy came afterward, when the girl was accused of being a monster and cast out alongside her parents. Poor little Itrix...
The danger vanished almost instantly once bright red magic burst from her hands. The dogs fled at once, and Itrix stumbled backward, far too frightened even to scream. Yet instead of celebrating their salvation, the villagers gathered around her in fear, pointing accusing fingers at the little girl. Everyone was there — children and adults alike — all of them terrified.
Not a single soul approached to thank her or her parents. The villagers merely stood aside and watched as the family was driven toward the distant lands beyond their home. Fear had already poisoned their hearts. Yet Itrix was only a little girl. What else could she do but weep?
Lost in the woods, she had no guides nor wise teachers to lead her along the right path. Anyone might have believed she would eventually give up, but that was never the case. She found her own way forward. A Sage — who would later become a friend of mine — invited her to speak with him and pray to the gods. By then, she was no longer a little girl, and the red lights no longer appeared without warning. They had become something she could control. Something she had finally learned to embrace.
Not only was she one of the greatest sorceresses of her time, she was also the first to practice magic without the use of a contraption. Even I, who had already lived for more than a hundred years by then, was astonished when I learned the truth.
Many saw it as a blessing, yet even more insisted it was nothing but a curse. Mages and witches alike felt threatened by the idea that her power could render their years of training meaningless. So they spread fear among kings, chiefs, and rulers across the world.
I thank the gods for this: she refused to listen to those who sought to bring her down and instead stood beside the ones who offered her kindness and support. In time, she devoted herself to returning that kindness, traveling across the world to help all who were willing to accept it.
One day, she discovered she was not the only one blessed with natural magic. She was deeply surprised to learn of a boy who had suffered the same fate she once had after the villagers discovered his gift. That boy would become the first of many. I did not know her as well as I knew Dyvion, yet I believe her wish was to guide them. Still, that desire did not stop her from continuing her journey toward the distant continent of Kardinal.
She remained there for quite some time, studying primitive magic in an attempt to understand where that power came from. She once whispered to me how difficult and painful that journey had been. I tried to understand her feelings, for I too had witnessed many things hidden from the eyes of others. Truths no one wished to see.
Her knowledge became so profound that she eventually crossed beyond the boundaries of this world. There was neither ground nor sky in that place, neither sound nor darkness. It remained far beyond the reach of ordinary souls.
She welcomed the energy of that place into her soul, and it answered her in return. Soon, she forged a bond beyond mortal understanding — a bond that halted her aging and filled her with overwhelming power. At first, she could scarcely control it. There were wonders born from that power, but also disasters. And perhaps it was those disasters that carved her name into history. I still remember the day a tornado formed at her command by accident... and the twelve dreadful minutes when all daylight vanished across Kardinal.
Wherever she traveled, she drew attention. The color of her hair and the striking black-and-white robes she wore became impossible to forget. Refusing to dress like the mages and witches of her time, she instead chose the forbidden colors of mortals: black and white.
Though few dared follow her, some remained fiercely devoted, crossing distant lands simply for the chance to meet her. Most of them were sorcerers, of course.
Stone by stone, she and her followers built an unbreakable fortress to preserve the knowledge and manuscripts she had gathered over centuries. It became a sanctuary where she could practice magic and uncover new mysteries without fear of judgment. A safe haven for sorcerers, where she could teach others the ways of magic.
She did not reveal its location to me until only a few centuries ago. We were never particularly close, so I never pressed the matter.
Some became trusted companions of hers, and in time, she even loved someone she was never meant to love. She would certainly despise me for speaking of it now, but age has long since loosened my tongue.
Yet even she could not escape the cruelty of time. One by one, those she loved faded from this world until nothing remained but the great fortress atop Kardinal’s highest mountain. There, she buried herself in sorrow for many years before finding the strength to walk among the living once again.
As she continued to wander alone, she was finally forced to face reality. Magic had spread across the world while she remained blind to it. Sorcerers had begun appearing everywhere. Though their numbers were still small, their existence alone drew attention.
Even when she saw it with her own eyes, she could scarcely believe it: sorcerers had built towns of their own and formed societies alongside common folk, mages, and witches willing to accept them.
Even she, despite possessing centuries of knowledge and experience, was unable to control what the magical world had become. Magic had grown far too volatile, and the world itself was changing too quickly.
That was when she conceived the idea of founding the Order of Sorcerers. Itrix never intended to create a mere refuge for her kind, but an institution capable of preserving the balance of the world.
If magic could be used for harmful purposes, then someone — or something — had to exist to keep it under control and preserve the safety of the people and the order of the world.
And so, she set out in search of sorcerers capable of helping her fulfill that mission. She even came here, to Civitralis, seeking guidance before making her final decision. To speak to the gods on her behalf was one of the greatest honors I could ever receive.
Then, she divided her time between the halls of the Order and that distant place beyond the physical world — a realm she came to call the Veiled Plane. She devoted herself to keeping it pure and free from corruption, preserving it in exchange for the immortality she had gained centuries before.
At times, I find myself wondering how the world will continue once Itrix is gone. She has guided hundreds — perhaps thousands — of sorcerers across the world. Such sacrifice and devotion could only come from a truly great soul, even if there is now something beyond humanity within her.
People speak of the Order of Sorcerers as though it had always existed, yet only those who witnessed its rise understand how deeply it shaped the world itself. Oh, Itrix, Great Sorceress... if only I could remind you of how much you have given us.
