In reverse, I saw the events Barson Jora had described to the Simurgh. I saw Barson’s terrible battle against the Oracle and her followers, many of whom had been brainwashed with a red glint in their eyes. The Terrible towered over Barson’s forces, crushing dozens with its cantankerous feet and scorching entire battalions with its red glare. Blood flowed like water, screams rang out like the pitter-patter of raindrops, and an overcast sky was filled with a piercing red tint since there was no moon in sight.

Further back, I saw the Oracle receiving her blessing. I saw The Terrible receiving its red stars. Many hordes of followers being brainwashed. Arguments between Barson Jora and other elves. The Oracle wasn’t very important in elfin society before she received her blessing. She was learning magic from Barson like the others, but wasn’t very good at it.

The magic Barson was sharing with the elves was not very impressive. Weak flames, splashes of water, and a little light that could not compare with a flaming torch. But that was okay. I found out the point of these spells was not to actually use them in war. Barson taught some of his commanders the real magic the Simurgh had passed down to him, and this small group of commanders became nodes for a larger spell. A larger spell that laid a blanket of power over Barson’s army, riling them up, making them braver, stronger, and more devoted to Barson. Barson was able to oversee his army all at once, and could make people jump to their deaths without a second thought. The Simurgh had given Barson the emotional manipulation magic that it would use against me many years later.

But after the Oracle arrived with her mind control magic, Barson’s spell was broken. Perhaps if the Simurgh had answered Barson’s pleas, he could’ve done something. But without the Simurgh’s support, his control of his own army slipped from his hand like loose sand. After losing the power that came with this spell, Barson stopped commanding the army entirely. The Oracle and her forces were able to corner him easily, and many of Barson’s own commanders deserted him on the battlefield. The Mad King spent all of his time in booze and prayer, letting his enemy overwhelm his forces even though the Oracle did not have nearly as many soldiers as he did. It was regrettable. To be so reliant on the blessing from the Immortal that he forgot that he was meant to be a king, not a sorcerer.

That realization made me feel sadder as I saw his previous battles. His defeat against the monster horde was a horrible one, but seeing the noble elf slay monster after monster with his gleaming sword, his armor splattered with murky blood and his face covered in sweat and gashes, made me respect the Mad King a little bit.

Before that disastrous battle, Barson Jora led armies against small bands of monsters. By this point, I was able to control my magic well enough. I could follow Barson as he talked to his supporters, rallied tribes of elves to his cause, and swept through the plains, the mountains, and the coastline with his army. Everywhere he went, it was as if the sun was rising over a land enshrouded in darkness. Monsters blanketed the world like snow, with little bands of elves the only source of warmth in the terrible perpetual winter.

Even on the other side of the mountains, the monster infestation was pretty bad. This was a moment in history when the demons, fairies, spirits and beastmen were all working together. They were huddled together in the very North of the continent, at the site that would later become the capital of the Lux Republic. This final refuge of sentient races on the other side of the mountain was defended primarily by the tall fairies, who were at this time only protected with leather armor and wielded incredibly flimsy stone spears. Most monsters were only kept at bay with fire, long range stone projectiles, and a lot of luck. In fact, if a river had not flooded at just the right time, a particularly fearsome band of monsters might have wiped out all sentient life on this side of the mountains. The river’s flooding was so sudden and strange, that I knew an Immortal had to be involved. But which Immortal would have tried to protect all four races? Surely, they would have only tried to protect the ones they ended up allying themselves with.

The elves under Barson Jora were definitely the biggest threat the monsters faced, and as I traveled backwards in time, I realized the monsters had known this as well. I already knew how this story ended. I knew that Barson would wipe out most of the monsters on his side of the mountains, and that a great host would leave the North and flood over the mountains towards the Plains of Serenity. Barson and the elves would lose most of their warriors and would limp away with a few survivors. These monsters would go on to repopulate the monsters on either side of the mountains, but their numbers had been reduced so greatly that whatever force had been controlling them must have realized it was useless trying to use them anymore. It was after this moment that the red star began to pick apart Barson’s remaining forces by tempting the Oracle. This made me think the Evil Eye had been controlling the monsters after all.

But as I kept going further and further back in time, the coordination of the monsters began making less sense to me. For starters, why didn’t they have red stars in their foreheads? Starred monsters were the most powerful monsters that I had faced in this world. The Terrible, the most powerful monster the elves had ever faced, was a five star monster, blessed by the Evil Eye himself. If the Evil Eye really wanted to wipe out Barson and his followers, shouldn’t he have made a few powerful monsters like The Terrible and let them loose on Barson instead of bringing together such a massive monster army?

Barson’s activities in the past had been full of daring and courage. I began to see the subtle ways in which he had been fighting against the growing tide of the monsters. By now, I could tell how large my jumps in time were. I could tell that Barson and his elves had been fighting against the monsters on his side of the mountains for centuries. The massive army that he had gathered consisted of every tribe south of the mountains. Yet, for many decades, Barson had been fighting with just a few loyal tribes, since most tribes did not trust in his leadership or thought that his mission to defeat every monster was too unrealistic.

Since I was traveling backwards through time, I saw Barson’s troops dwindle, even though I knew that they had swelled in the relative future. It made me appreciate how difficult it must have been for him, convincing so many people to come fight for their survival instead of waiting for death. His numbers became smaller and smaller and smaller, until he was just a young man, not too much older than I appeared to be in this world.

This younger Barson had only a few loyal followers with him. These followers told him about the history of his family. By now, I had gotten pretty good at understanding words being said in reverse. I could follow their words, even as they became more and more unbelievable. I suspected these retainers were exaggerating Barson’s family history to give the young king more confidence. Either way, I would find out the truth as I went deeper into the history of this world.

“The kings of the Jora tribe ruled this continent in an age before monsters,” said one of Barson Jora’s followers. “The kings brought peace and prosperity. Food was plentiful and our people lived in large cities with many tall houses and buildings. It is said, we even carved temples into the peaks of mountains, as if the very world itself belong to our people.”

“Before the monsters came, there was much music and dance. Our people did not know magic back then, but we did not need to. There were no monsters to fight, and other sentient races could be brought to heel with weapons made from the earth,” said another retainer.

“Peace and prosperity,” said an elderly elf with a great white beard and droopy eyelids. “Before the time of monsters and magic, when the elves worshiped the moon, and darkness dare not leave the woods.”