Unü_Sûãl

Epic fantasy presence: Ashes Of The First Tyrant [AOTFT]

Prologue – The Law of Aura

They say every soul burns.
Some flare brightly and fade. Others smolder quietly for a lifetime.

But a rare few, rare beyond reason ignite with such intensity that the world bends to them. These are not gods. Not yet.

These are the Tyrants.
And their aura is not a gift.
It is a weight a burden.

In this world, aura is everything.

It is the breath behind a sword strike, the pressure behind a command, the silent will that can crush or inspire. Most are born with it. Few master it.

But only one…
only one in an age
awakens the Tyrant’s Spirit

…the aura that dominates not by force, but by presence alone.

Ashes Of The First Tyrant

The moon hung low over Tempest Hold, casting a pale glow across the courtyard stones where Thalen trained alone long after nightfall. His new sword a Rare-class blade laced with crimson veins rested against his shoulder as he moved through slow, deliberate strikes. Each swing sent a ripple through the air, trailing faint wisps of aura.

Sweat poured from his brow. His muscles trembled, not just from exhaustion, but from the slow integration of the Tyrant Spirit into his body. Arkan's words echoed in his mind: Until your body can endure both forces, your own power will crush you.

Thalen exhaled and struck again, shattering a practice dummy into splinters. The Blade Aura danced around him like silver flames, coiling tighter every time he moved. The Tyrant Spirit pulsed underneath it, quiet but present, like a heartbeat beneath his own.

"Still training at this hour?" a voice called.

Whispers of the quite flame