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 Emberwings descended in spirals of burning silence—figures of armored flame and shadow, not wholly creatures and not quite constructs. Their wings moved without wind, forged from ember-threaded lattice and etched with runes older than Guildscript. Six in total. Each one bore a different sigil carved into their chestplate, pulsing faintly with internal fire.

The largest hovered before Evelyn, head tilting—not curious, but weighing.

Torren stepped forward, sword half-drawn. "Should I—?"

"No," Evelyn said, her voice raw with flame. "This is mine."

The circle of Embercallers remained still. Reverent. Watching.

Then, in perfect unison, the six beings slammed their spears into the earth, the impact echoing like bells made of bone and bronze. A ring of heat burst outward, etching a perfect circle in the ground around Evelyn. The Cradle itself responded: the old forge-towers trembled, and the sky above dimmed, reducing the stars to pale coals.

A voice—no lips, just flame—spoke within Evelyn's mind.

Her vision blurred. The world narrowed.

Within the circle, time bent. Stone melted into a molten mirror. Reflections of her past flickered across its surface: Isenhold in flames, her mother's fading breath, Torren's bloodied hands, the first time she consumed a core. Every act, every choice.

"Name the fire, or be consumed by it."

The largest Emberwing lifted its hand.

It struck her chest—and Evelyn fell.

She stood again on the Night Dune, alone, holding a heartfire ember in her hand. But now, the ash was speaking. The dunes whispered every name she'd tried to forget. Every promise unkept. Every fear.

You are not a flamebearer.

You stole what you did not earn.

She raised her hand. The heartfire burned steadier now, gold edged in violet.

"I was born in the fire."

The whispers clawed at her. Shadows of past failures rose like ghosts.

She breathed in. Felt the circlet press against her brow, white-hot with truth.

The false voices shrieked and dissolved.

She surged upward—back into her body, back into the trial circle.

The Emberwings stepped back. Silent. Then the lead one bowed.

"You have passed," the flame-voice intoned. "You are the First Remembered."

The circle faded. The heat dulled.

The Emberwings rose again, vanishing into the Hollow Sky one by one.

Above, the Skybrands flared—this time, not in warning.

Trial of the Emberwings