During the Norman Conquest of England, just days after the Battle of Carham, a Scottish Warrior had pranced up a Hill that led into a Dark Forest. Everything around him was mostly dead, even though it was a Scottish Victory. He had seen so much bloodshed, that inside him, he wanted to melt along with everything else that was in the blazing fires.
As a boy, Artair of Caireall had always wanted to become a Scottish warrior like his father. But at the Age of 10, he started noticing that he was much different then everyone else. He could levitate objects into the air, or blow up rocks for his own pleasure. His father eventually found out of this strange gift.
His father told Artair that he was never to speak of this to anyone, or to even use the gift in front of anyone but him. He was afraid his oldest son might be hung.
At the age of 17, Artair had mastered his gift in secret. He wished to use it for good. In means, he joined the Scottish army, and fought in short battles that meant nothing to the war that was going on.
In the year of 1018, Artair was sent to Carham, where the battle with the Kingdom of Northumbria was to take place. They marched for several days to the location, with one-eighth of the warriors dieing of dehydration. Artair had provided himself with fresh meat, with using a death spell that he had recently found in ancient scrolls.
Once the warriors arrived at the River Tweed, The Northumbria waited just on the other side. After a few seconds of glancing at each other sides, the bloody battle began. It lasted for several hours until everyone almost ceased to exist. During the long period of time, Artair was struck in the leg by surprise, and sent Artair down unconscious.
Hours after the battle, Artair woke up, and looked all around him. He had obviously been suspected to be dead, and left him here with every other dead body. He stood up, only falling back down. His wound had been to deep for him to walk. Placing his hands on top of the wound, he said a spell from an ancient scroll, and the wound started healing on its own. After several minutes it had been almost halfway healed.
He stood up once more successfully, and walked up the hill that was right next him. At the top, before him laid a forest that was hundreds of feet tall. It was dark inside, and had the most eerie feeling to it. He needed to make his way home, so he walked into the forest.
Several days past, and Artair grew exhausted. He had traveled several hundreds miles across the forest, and still found no opening. At day break of the seventh day, he saw light through the trees of the forest. When he stepped out into the light, he saw the most beautiful land anyone could imagine.
To the right stood a grand mountain, that spread up towards to the north. On the left side, a vast lake that shined as the sun fell on it. And to the front of him, acres of land that was the finest of all.
This had been exactly where he had wanted to live. He began building a castle right away, one that he would live in the rest of his entire life. After five years, he had finished the base of the castle, and took delight in the whole place.
As another five years pasted, he began to grow lonely. He wanted people near him that had something in common with him. Something where he could learn from, and teach others of his learnings. A school for the gifted.
He sent out Owls through the countries, asking for any other person out their who had a gifted, magical, ability. Eleven elders replied. Five in which were females. Conall of Conchar, Potions Master, Donnach of Drostan, Charms Master, Eògan of Eacharn, Transfigurarton Master, Fionghan of Flannagan, Dark Arts Master, Guaire of Gilleasp, Astronomy Master, Rònan of Roithridh, Magical Creatures Master, Brìghde of Erskine, Herbology Mistress, Mòrag of Malamhìn, Divinations Mistress, Edana of Mùirne, History Mistress Roana of Iona, Flying Mistress, Reyna of Isolteas, Arithmancy Mistress.
Each of the eleven people was given a position as a professor at his school. They were also provided with living corridors as well as a classroom.
Artair also charmed a quill and a book to write down names of eleven years olds on July 31, then on August 1st, he would have parchments sent out all over the region to the little kids, and asked them if they would like to become a student at his school.
On the evening just before the beginning of the first actual term, Artair sat on top of the mountain and looked over the vast land. The moon shined on the water, the grass blew in the breeze. Everything was perfect. He had taken one of his clear crystals off from around his neck, and looked through it to see if the land would look any different.
The crystal made things appear to be more then there really was. It reflected the light of the moon onto the castle, and the darkness of the forest into a patch of land of the side of the moutain. He kept staring through it, to see if the Crystal was different from the rest.
A few minutes had pasted by, and nothing happened. The crystal stayed clear, and everything was perfectly calm. He looked up towards the moon, and a ray of light was sent towards the crystal. It turned dark blue quickly, and became as cold as ice. The light stopped shortly, and the crystal remained the same color of blue. "Blue Crystal..." He muttered under his breath.
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