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

It gnawed at Evelyn's exposed skin as she trudged through the brittle sands of the outer cusp, the place the villagers once called Hollow's Wake. The sky above was no longer the pale ochre of dust, but a churning coil of stormlight, pulsing faintly in rhythm with her heartbeat. Or perhaps… not her own.

Each step stirred ash and memory, loose bone and blistered stone. Torren walked beside her in strained silence, his limp more pronounced now, the bandage at his thigh soaked anew. She'd tried to seal the wound with tinctured salve and woven cloth, but the venom from the beast they had barely escaped had slowed him. Each hour, his breathing grew tighter. Each hour, she shouldered more of the burden.

She had heard it since the Vault of Murmurs—since she'd touched the ancient rootstone and seen fire bloom like veins under the world. A voice, crackling and indistinct, just beyond language. At first, she'd thought it was memory. Then fever. Then madness.

The voice was not within her mind. It was within the core. And the core was within her.

They reached the edge of a fallen spire, carved long ago with names that had once rung with glory. Now the stone was sundered, scorched black where Echoed blood had boiled into it. Evelyn touched the edge gently and felt the hum.

Not her name spoken aloud, but something deeper. The sound wasn't a voice. It was a recognition. A flame speaking to its bearer.

She drew in a sharp breath and closed her eyes.

She stood within it, not burning but listening. Countless embers drifted like stars around her, and from every ember came a note. Not music, not speech, but something between them. Like the forgotten echo of a lullaby or a spell half-sung. She stepped forward—and the flames parted.

There, waiting at the center, was the outline of a figure made entirely of living flame. A woman, taller than Evelyn, cloaked in flickering light and crowned with braids of ember-coals.

"You have carried the hollow spark."

"The Flame That Heard Its Name."

"And now… so shall you."

Pain shot through her spine. The core behind her heart ignited with sudden brilliance. She fell to her knees in the dreamfire, but the figure touched her forehead, and the pain became song.

When Evelyn opened her eyes, she was back in the ruin. The storm above had calmed.

Torren had fallen to his knees, staring at her as though seeing her for the first time.

She reached up—and her skin glowed faintly beneath her touch. Not fire. Not light. But a pulse, like a second soul just beneath the surface.

Evelyn stood slowly, and the ash bowed away from her.

The Flame That Hears Its Name