You’re magical beings have been having their way with their powers and enjoying themselves…at least until those side effect kick in. Let’s take a step back, way back. To the beginning. Where did the power come from. Or, who did they come from. This goes beyond the magical beings in your story.
Why does power exist in your world? For example, I can say my characters draw power from Darkness, but why is there power in Darkness. Did it just appear one day? Was the Darkness a god cast out for being a bastard or because someone was jealous of it?
I wrote an origin story, well two of them. You should write your own origin story- however you want. My story is a bit rough. It’s only supposed to help my world building. I didn’t do much editing. I might publish it, eventually. Still don’t know yet. You story doesn’t need to polished. More than likely, no one will read it. It’s for your notes. And, it’s fun to create.
Here’s an excerpt of mine.
Haylan Kahya returned to his physical body. His sister, Locktice, did the same. Because of Taxes, the Gate took too much food- leaving little for themselves.
“Why do our bodies always knot up when we leave?” Locktice asked stretching her arms over her head.
She knew better than that. How many times have they asked the Elders about the Gate and received only that piercing look?
“Why do you ask that every time we return to our bodies?” he said bending at the waist to unlock his hips.
“Because, I am tired of my body acting like it’s trying to throw me out.”
An apt way to put it. More like the body got used to acting on its own and didn’t want them returning.
Frantic footsteps headed their way. Why was Manty running? He wasn’t alone. Jontice and Tera RaiKall were with him. The RaiKall were similar to what humans called the cousin. For centuries, it had been the Kahya and the RaiKall’s job to rule E’Sully.
Manty swept his waist length white hair out of his eyes. Haylan’s had either long white or deep black hair. They all had black tattered wings that didn’t work. The Elders said they were a status symbol. Haylan would’ve preferred something less obstructive.
“What is it?” Locktice asked.
Manty cocked his head. “You didn’t bring enough human Darkness back.”
“I did,” Haylan jabbed his thumb behind him. “The Gate took most of it.”
“Then, you didn’t get enough. The Tax has existed for centuries. You should’ve taken it into account”
Manty was younger than him by at least a century. Why did that child always talk like he was superior?
