Jhavanna_Evans

In a fractured world where magic is fading and kingdoms clash for dominance, Aralyn Thorne lives a quiet life as a blacksmith’s daughter in the remote village of Morwyn. But her life is upended when raiders attack, seeking a mysterious medallion hidden among her family’s belongings. In the chaos, Aralyn awakens a latent magic she never knew she possessed—one powerful enough to destroy her village and mark her as the last descendant of Eldoria, a legendary kingdom thought lost to time.

Guided by cryptic whispers from the medallion, Aralyn embarks on a perilous journey to reclaim Eldoria’s forgotten legacy and stop the return of the Shadowborn—ancient beings who once brought the kingdom to ruin. Along the way, she gathers a band of unlikely allies: Kael, a brooding mercenary with secrets of his own; Siena, a clever thief driven by her past; and Ephraim, a scholar desperate to uncover the truth about Eldoria’s fall

The Chronicles of Maldoria

The rhythmic clang of hammer on steel echoed through the forge, filling the warm, smoky air. Aralyn Thorne wiped the sweat from her brow and inspected the sword she had just finished shaping. It wasn't perfect—her father would have pointed out the uneven curve near the guard—but it would do.

Outside the forge, the village of Morwyn bustled with its usual tranquility. Farmers unloaded sacks of grain, children ran through the cobblestone streets, and traders set up their stalls. For as long as she could remember, Morwyn had been her entire world: quiet, predictable, safe.

But something felt different today. The air carried a weight, an unease she couldn't shake.

Her father, Garreth, limped into the forge, his face lined with years of labor. "Good work, Aralyn," he said, gesturing to the sword. "But you're rushing the details again. Slow hands make strong steel."

Aralyn rolled her eyes but smiled. "Strong steel isn't much use if the village guard needs it yesterday."

Garreth chuckled, but his laughter faded as his gaze drifted toward the horizon. "You feel it too, don't you?" he asked quietly.

"The change. Like a storm building in the distance."

Aralyn hesitated. She had felt it—the strange pull in her chest, like something calling to her—but she dismissed it as fatigue. Before she could respond, a sharp cry rang out from the village square.

Garreth's expression darkened. "Stay here."

Ignoring his order, Aralyn grabbed a dagger from the workbench and followed him outside.

The village square was in chaos. Men in black armor dismounted from horses, their faces hidden beneath helmets etched with strange symbols. One of them, a tall figure with a deep scar across his jaw, held a parchment in his gloved hand.

"We seek the artifact," the man growled, his voice like gravel. "Hand it over, and no harm will come to you."

Aralyn's heart raced. She didn't know what artifact they meant, but the way her father tensed told her he did.

Garreth stepped forward. "We don't know what you're talking about," he said evenly.

The scarred man sneered. "Lies." He motioned to his men. "Search the village. Burn it if you must."

Before Aralyn could react, her father turned to her, his eyes fierce. "Go to the cellar. Now."

"Father, what's going on?" she whispered, fear creeping into her voice.

"No time to explain," he said, gripping her shoulders. "Just—"

The roar of flames interrupted him as one of the raiders set fire to a nearby house. Villagers screamed and scattered as the black-armored men began tearing through homes.

"Aralyn, go!" Garreth shoved her toward the forge, but as she stumbled back, she saw one of the raiders draw his sword and charge her father.

"No!" Without thinking, Aralyn rushed forward, dagger in hand. The world seemed to slow as the raider swung his blade, but before it could connect, the medallion around her neck—an heirloom she had always worn without thought—flashed with brilliant light.

A wave of energy erupted from her, throwing the raider backward and knocking her to the ground. The air crackled with raw magic, and for a moment, the entire square fell silent.

The scarred man's eyes widened. "The medallion," he hissed. "She has it."

Aralyn struggled to her feet, the medallion now glowing faintly against her chest. The raiders began advancing toward her, and Garreth grabbed her arm.

"Run," he said, his voice trembling. "You can't let them take it. Find Maldoria."

"Maldoria? What are you talking about?"

Tears blurred her vision as Garreth pushed her away, turning to face the advancing raiders. Aralyn hesitated for only a moment before she turned and ran, clutching the medallion tightly as flames consumed her village behind her.

Embers Of Destiny