Once upon four kingdoms,
In a time, long ago,
The people lived in harmony,
They knew no pain or woe.

North, South, East and West.  The kingdoms of the seasons existed in perfect balance. 
Each realm was held by different weather and climate.
North held eternal Spring.  The weather was cool and would occasionally shower, its trees always fresh green and newly blossomed.  Rumours murmured of dragons in the unreachable mountain peaks.
East basked in the heat of Summer.  It rarely rained or felt a breeze, deserts spanned the kingdom, the trees near sustained water sources stood firmly in a state of deep green.  Myths spoke of ancient hidden races, part human, part animal.
South bore the Autumn.  The wind and the rain, the trees lost their golden leaves and grew red ones in their place.  Fairy tales were recounted of elves, spriggans and pixies.
West endured perpetual Winter.  Snow and ice blanketed the land, the trees bore neither fruit nor leaves, save the evergreen.  Legends told of humongous ogres and trolls, dwelling in the most remote caves.

The kingdoms permanent seasons required that they worked together in order, not only to survive, but to thrive.  Crops would be rotated from climate to climate in order to allow growth, harvest, pollination and reseeding.  Trade for local produce from realm to realm was plentiful and profitable for all involved.
As such, a balance existed for as far back as any person or record could remember.

Then came the daemon.
It entered the world and witnessed the happy, peaceful people that resided within it and became angry.
Its heart was pure darkness and evil, it saw the kind generous world and thought only of ways that would hold the most effective method of corrupting it.
Roaming the kingdoms in various guises, for many years, it learnt many different things about how the balance was kept; who the people were that were responsible for the most important aspects of the transactions.  Knowledge and patience were this creatures most dangerous weapons.
All the while, it spoke with the people, stirring up malcontent and unrest.  It instilled unease and jealousy in the hearts of the most faithful and failure in those who strived to do well.
It came, at length, to the ruler of West, a beautiful, yet bitter woman, who had recently lost her two youngest children to pneumonia.  She had been widowed many years before when her husband had lost his life to a pack of vicious wolves during a hunt.
The daemon infiltrated her court by saving her remaining son from suffering the same fate as his father.
Disguised as a fellow westerner, it whispered in their ears, exaggerating the pain and sorrow that their people felt and played upon their egos.
"Your kingdom is the hardiest and your people the strongest," it would say, "yet you weald the least power and require the most aid.  If only all of the kingdoms were under the rule of one such as yourself, the people here would be, not only much safer, but a great deal happier."
For many years the Queen disagreed, whilst her son developed a blind trust in the man who had saved his life.  "Just wait," spoke the daemon, "soon this kingdom will be yours and, under your reign, it will become great enough to challenge all of the kingdoms."
It was not long before the Queen’s rule gave way to that of her son.  On the day of his coronation, at which were gathered the rulers of the other kingdoms, the new King of West declared independence and the intention to conquer or destroy any and all who opposed his move to rule all that he wished.
And so began the wars of devastation.  Alliances were struck and enemies were made.  The kingdoms were thrown into an age of darkness, the lives and livelihood of people far and wide became hard and unfair.  Without the full system of support that had been in place for countless generations, food and comfort became scarce.  As the years advanced, more and more men and women joined their ruler's armies, leaving fewer people to support what was left of the declining rural communities.
Satisfied with its handiwork, the daemon returned to whatever deep dark pit it had emerged from, content that, before long, it would return to find a barren wasteland where its brethren could thrive.