I am very old in my dreams. Three thousand years of life when the war came. It was not the first war our world had seen, but it was the first war I saw.
I dreamed my people had a Queen. Queen Ashara, beautiful and terrible and despotic. She tried to summon a legion of demons to our world and we fought her. Not just those of our people who resisted, but others. Great dragons and other beings fought with us against Ashara's loyalists and the Burning Legion.
And we won, but at such a terrible cost. The well that granted us so much power exploded, shattering the continent of the world into many.
I do not know how I survived it, or how we will all recover, but with my high priestess dead, my people look to me now.