In the time before, before anyone remembers and before civilization took hold of the land, the West (otherwise known as Xaihniuxequei) was filled with gods. They knew balance, the necessity of both good and evil which kept the land at peace. All the living beings understood the need for light and dark, how the two had to work together in order to achieve balance.
Yet as it always is in the mind of the gods, they thought they could find a better way. The gods of light and goodness sought to destroy the evil gods, ensure that only good would rule their land. In their destruction, they became corrupted and the balance was thrown. The war that ensued was a dark and terrible time for all. Countless gods, humans and creatures alike died. In the end, the gods of darkness won out, destroying every corrupted god of light. The land was thrown into turmoil worse than the war. The balance tipped desperately into darkness. There were no good things left, only death, fighting, stealing and lies in that world.
The gods themselves sank further and further into depravity, reaching an evil few can bring themselves to speak of. The Western people lived in fear of the gods, forced even to sacrifice children, their own blood, in order to appease the evil gods. Disease and War was all the humans and fantastical creatures knew for thousands of years, turning on each other.
Yet darkness is unable to exist without light. Balance demanded to be restored. As such, a god fell in love with a human. She was War and he was a mere, fragile human. He was stolen by Death in battle and War laid waste to the battlefield in her anger. Hundreds of beings were killed and even the other gods were driven back by her incredible display of power. When it was over, she wept for what had been lost.
She became something else, that dark day. She became Balance. Goddess of war & peace, light & dark. She was equal parts love and hatred, good and evil. Her power was awesome, yet limited. She was unable to pick sides, until a battle was at the last point of desperation. She made herself known in the human wars when they reached this point, spreading both terror and hope. When it seemed all was lost, that both sides would destroy on another, there she appeared.
Those who saw her could not say if she was Angel or Demon. They described her as too fearsome to look at, continuously changing from terrifying and horrible to beautiful beyond human comprehension. She was not bound to the West, like the other gods. Every nation knew of her as force of destruction and hope. When she chose a side in battle, the other said their prayers and hoped for a noble death, understanding finally that they had been in the wrong. The West was still a hopeless place, but not as desolate as it had been. The people learned to look for a better life. For freedom.
They turned to the East (otherwise known as Nodouq), to the great dragons for help. The dragons came and waged war against the gods of the West. Balance did not make an appearance. The gods were driven back into the sea, the coastline guarded by the dragons. The people learned to fear the sea, though the truth faded into legend and then myth. Humans hunted the fantastic creatures of their land for sport, in fear that they would turn evil like the gods had. Faeries, leprechauns, nymphs, every sort of being that knew magic was forced into hiding.
Now the West is a godless land, choked by civilization. The old legends are dismissed as children’s stories, and ancient dragons grow tired of guarding these forgetful people. They are capable of war and greed without the gods, and they now wage war against the other countries in hopes of expanding their empire.
Few people still speak of Balance, fewer still believe in her. None know if she was driven back with the other gods, but many still hope that if the battle gets too dark, too depraved and hopeless, she will appear once more.