Stone Age

In a world where time knew no names, and the sun and moon were the only witnesses, the Magical Stone Age stretched out. There were no cities, speech, or fabrics. All living things walked naked beneath an endless sky, shrouded in thick clouds of ancient spirits. Creatures communicated only through gestures, growls, wind songs, and flashes of magical patterns on their skin. Language was too young, and minds too wild, to waste energy on words. Magic replaced everything: it whispered in the blood, pulsed in the bones, and blossomed with every blow of a stone axe.

The rules of magic in this world are as simple and cruel as nature itself. Magic is born from three sources: the Blood of the Earth, the Breath of the Sky, and the Pulse of Life.
The Blood of the Earth is the power of stones, crystals, and volcanic fire. Those who touch ancient ruins or trace patterns in clay with their fingers can summon stone, make the earth tremble, or cause sharp crystals to grow from beneath an enemy's feet. But each such ritual drains a portion of the body's heat—which is why stone mages are often covered in frost even in the heat.
The Breath of the Sky—lightning, wind, and rainbows. Dancing through thunderstorms or exhaling in unison with the storm, creatures can fly in short bursts, summon whirlwinds, or create illusions from fog. However, the sky is jealous: too daring a flight can end in a fall when the wind suddenly turns away.
The Pulse of Life is the most ancient and dangerous. Through the heartbeat, blood, and intertwining of bodies with plants and animals, one can heal, transform flesh, or share memories without a sound. But the price is high—sometimes the pulse disappears forever, and the creature becomes frozen, a stone statue among the grass.
Magic belongs to no one. It chooses those who feel the rhythm of the world most strongly. Even the weakest can one day shine brighter than a star if they find themselves in the right place at the right moment.

The numerous races of the Magical Stone Age are all primitive and beautiful in their wildness:
The Clay People are the most numerous. Their skin, the color of dark clay and red ochre, is covered with natural magical tattoos that glow when they use their power. They live in small clans near rivers, hunt with spears made of bone and wood, and instead of speech, use complex hand gestures and rhythmic strikes on the ground.
Stoneskins are powerful, squat creatures with skin as thick as granite, covered in natural cracks and crystals. They rarely move quickly, but they can become part of the rock, merging with it for days. Their eyes glow with a soft emerald light.
Skywalkers are slender, long-legged creatures with light webbing between their toes and barely noticeable wing-like growths on their backs. They barely touch the ground, preferring to leap from tree to tree or glide on currents of the Breath of Sky. Their hair is like silvery mist.
The Rootplotters are a half-plant race. Their bodies are covered in soft green bark and living vines that move of their own accord. They can root themselves into the earth and draw strength directly from the soil, and their faces are calm and pensive, like ancient trees.
The Ash Ones are the descendants of those who survived the great fires. Their skin is black with ash patterns, and their blood glows orange. They sense the Blood of the Earth better than anyone else and often live near volcanoes, dancing in lava flows.

Besides races, the world is full of different creatures that also do not know clothing and speech:
Giant Woolly Lizards with bony plates covered with glowing moss. They graze peacefully, but if angered, they can cause an earthquake with a single blow of their tail, imbued with the Blood of the Earth.
Flying Fanged Birds, the size of a human, with feathers that shimmer with every color of the rainbow. They don't sing—they draw magical signs in the sky, warning of danger.
Mist Spirits are translucent creatures, resembling clumps of living fog with glowing eyes. They feed on emotions and are sometimes helpful, sometimes terrifying.
The Subterranean Glowworms are enormous, glowing creatures that dig tunnels and leave behind fertile caverns filled with crystals.
And, of course, the ancient Totem Beasts are legendary loners: the Fire Mammoth, whose tusks leave traces of molten stone, or the Ghost Panther, who can pass through trees.

Life here is harsh and beautiful. Clans gather around huge bonfires of glowing crystals, where instead of talking, they share visions through the Life Pulse. Young warriors undergo the Trial of Stone—descending into the caves to return with a new pattern on their bodies. Elders, their skin already cracked like old clay, transmit power simply by touching their foreheads to the young.
Wars are rare, but fierce. When two clans clash over a sacred source of magic, they don't shout—they dance. The dance of battle: swirling Breath of Heaven, heaving earth, intertwining roots and flesh. The winner doesn't kill everyone—they take a portion of the vanquished's pulse, making the clan stronger, and the losers depart, carrying new patterns within themselves.
But the main enemy isn't other races, but the Great Oblivion. Sometimes the world's magic weakens, and creatures begin to forget how to breathe power. Then all the clans, from the Clays to the Rootplots, gather together in a vast Circle of Unity—thousands of naked bodies covered in glowing patterns, dancing under the stars to rekindle the heart of the world.