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

Even as they made camp beneath the half-toppled pillar of boneglass, his eyes lingered on her—not with fear, but with something stranger. Reverence, maybe. Or dread threaded through loyalty. Evelyn didn't blame him. She could still feel the warmth in her skin, just beneath the surface—like the flame hadn't left, only settled deeper.

The night wind tugged at the edges of her cloak as she knelt and touched her fingers to the dirt. Not sand. Not true earth. Ash. All of it. The ruined plains of the Wastes stretched endless to the north, gray on gray on ruin.

It was here, in this forgotten pocket of silence, that Evelyn felt the moment break.

But a stillness that pressed down like a hand on the soul.

Then—voice, barely a whisper in the dark.

Evelyn stiffened. Across the camp, Torren stirred in his sleep, brow twitching, a dream unspoken on his lips. She stood, heart hammering. The voice was not dream. Not memory.

No reply. Only the rustle of dust through bone reeds.

She turned toward the crumbled statue nearby—a woman's shape, armless and half-buried in ruin. Once, this had been a shrine. The symbols were mostly worn away, but the base still bore a phrase scorched into its stone:

"We burn to bind. We bind to live. We live to remember."

The dust swirled around her, pulled toward her chest, toward the core flaring behind her heart.

She saw it now, fully: the heartfire was not just power. It was memory, oath, and name. And it had chosen her long ago.

Ash lifted in a spiral around her. Her cloak rose, crackling at the edges. Glyphs she could not read blazed faintly around her wrists. Somewhere, beneath the world, something ancient listened.

Torren awoke to the scent of cinders and the sound of Evelyn's voice in a tongue he did not know.

She stood now, eyes closed, hands outstretched, flame dancing above her palms.

When she finally opened her eyes, her voice was calm, final.

"I made the oath," she said. "Now I carry it."

And far away, at the edge of hearing, something howled in recognition.

Ash-Bound Oath