AshesFallintoLight

In a land fractured by elemental extremes and ancient grudges, five kingdoms stand divided — each shaped by its climate, customs, and uneasy relationship with the monstrous frontier known only as the Wasteland.

For generations, the kingdoms of Solkar, Thal, Nordr, Virellia, and Alzhan have fought among themselves — over borders, trade, and pride — while the Wasteland's creeping horrors press ever closer. From this cursed land come the Oldspawn — beasts of myth and nightmare, whose hearts, when consumed, fuse with one’s own, birthing magic at a terrible cost. Power, after all, is never without sacrifice.

Evelyn — an orphan from a border outpost — is quiet, clever, and far more dangerous than she knows. When she survives a raid on her village and consumes a fractured core-heart, she becomes something new: a bearer of wild magic not bound to any kingdom's laws or customs. Her abilities are raw and unstable, and she draws the attention of those who would shape her into a weapon.
At her side is Torren, her childhood friend — steadfast, brave, and unknowingly the source of her first love. But while Evelyn’s path leads her deeper into the politics and power of the Five Realms, Torren’s takes him elsewhere: to duty, to transformation, and ultimately, to love beyond their bond.

Guiding Evelyn is the enigmatic scholar Vareth, a rogue archivist exiled from Alzhan’s great think-towers. Vareth believes Evelyn’s magic may be the key to ending the Wasteland’s expansion — or the cause of its rebirth. He teaches her the truth of the Oldspawn, of core-magic, and the First Fire, a forgotten power lost to time.

But in the depths of the Wasteland stirs something older than monsters. Once a god-emperor of a fallen sixth kingdom, now corrupted by centuries of core-consumption, the being known as The Hollow King has begun to move again. His twisted children — the Echoed, part-human, part-beast — are spreading across the borderlands.

And he wants Evelyn.

To survive, the kingdoms must unite. But can old enemies find common ground — when power is bonded in blood, bone, and the heartfire of beasts?

Heartfire of the Wastes

The first voice came with the wind—an off-tune melody that sounded like bones grinding inside a pipe. Not words, not music. Something in-between.

Torren noticed too. "You hear it?"

They were two days east of the Embertrail, lost between waymarkers. Even the Echoed had grown sparse, as though afraid to step where no bloodline had dominion. The landscape had become warped—spires of black crystal erupting from the ash, some humming faintly if you placed your ear to them.

They came upon the Singer at twilight.

It wore the shape of a woman—tall, draped in soot-black robes, her face masked by a veil of iron and silk. Cords of beads and bones swayed from her outstretched arms. Her hair, if it was hair, writhed softly like mist-touched flame. She stood atop a circle of carved stone, etched into the base of a broken monument, surrounded by totems of hollowed skulls.

Torren caught her wrist. "What are you doing?"

And said—clearly, though her mouth did not move:

"Evelyn of Fire-Not-Born, Step into the Circle."

The air thickened as Evelyn obeyed.

It was like walking into the heartbeat of a long-dead beast. Still pulsing, somehow. Still aware.

"I seek passage," Evelyn said, unsure why those words came out first.

"And what do you offer?" said the Singer—not aloud, but directly into her thoughts, her blood, her breath.

"Nothing," Evelyn replied, defiant. "I will not trade myself again."

Behind her, Torren moved to draw his blade.

—and the world bent sideways. Torren was flung backward as if by a tide of invisible chains. He rolled, breathless but alive, and shouted something she didn't hear.

"A flame not your own dwells in you.

"Then bleed. And perhaps you will."

Evelyn felt her veins tighten. The core within her chest screamed—but without sound. The pressure built behind her eyes until she thought they'd burst.

"What is it?" Evelyn choked.

"A name of fire. Not meant for you.

"Then walk. And know the price is not paid in full. Not yet."

As they left, Evelyn looked back once.

The Singer was already fading—like smoke retreating into the bones of the earth.

Torren limped beside her. "What did she take?"

She had known it, for one heartbeat.

But it had changed something inside her.

The fire no longer waited to be summoned.

The Hollow-Singer’s Price