Francis_9439

Ashes of the First Flame

A novel by [Francis 9439]

For centuries, the world of Elaris has burned under the divine light of the First Flame, a sacred fire worshiped by the tyrannical Solar Dominion — a theocratic empire that claims godhood and unity through conquest. The Empress rules with holy fire and iron will, casting down cities that refuse her light, branding all who resist as heretics and rebels.

But across the shattered lands of the Free Marches, a spark of defiance refuses to die.

Kaelen Virelth, the exiled son of a disgraced noble house, is thrust into leadership after his brother is assassinated. Once a scholar and a pacifist, Kaelen becomes the reluctant face of a rebellion. As war spreads like wildfire, Kaelen must decide whether to become a killer to save the world — or lose everything he loves.

On the other side of the war, Serenya Valir, a devoted priestess of the Flame, begins to question the cost of blind faith. Sent to root out traitors within the Dominion, she uncovers dark secrets buried beneath sacred temples — and a prophecy foretelling a choice that will either redeem the world or end it in ash.

Amid the chaos rise other forces: the exiled Scorched Order, mage-knights blamed for a forgotten catastrophe; the elemental Aetherborn Tribes, whose magic the Dominion fears and hates; and the seductive spies of the Sable Garden, who pull strings behind every throne.

As old gods stir and ancient powers awaken, love blooms between enemies, loyalty crumbles into betrayal, and the line between salvation and damnation blurs. To stop the cycle of fire and ruin, someone must destroy the First Flame — or become its final bearer.

But power never dies quietly.

Ashes of  the First Flame

Kaelen stood at the edge of the stone ridge, still gripping Rien's hand.

But the Severers around her looked confused.

Vel frowned. "Is that one of the Ashsworn? Doesn't ring a bell."

In the Loom's sanctum, the Shaper stood above a page.

With one touch, it began to erase him—not with ink or blade, but with doubt.

"The Emberlight child was a myth," it whispered to the fabric of the world.

"A story she told herself. A fire that never burned."

He saw flashes—his mother's eyes, his father's fire, Rien's hand in his—and each flickered out like candle flames in a collapsing room.

He clutched at the last thing he remembered:

In the overworld, Rien dropped to her knees.

She clawed at her own memory, begging for the echo of Kaelen's name.

"No," she whispered. "You don't get to take him."

The blade was flickering, unsure. Because even it—for a moment—had forgotten Kaelen.

A circle of flame erupted around her.

From it rose scorchscript—ancient glyphs of the Emberlight tongue.

He is the child of the Emberlight and the First Flame.

Kaelen gasped and landed on solid ground—his own two feet, drenched in sweat and smoke, eyes wild with defiance.

"No," she said, smiling through tears. "We did."

Behind her, Vel and Seron looked stunned.

"I remember him now," Vel whispered. "The boy who tamed the Storm Elk."

"The one who survived the Thornsea Fire," Seron added.

"You want to erase me?" he shouted. "Then you'll have to burn the flame itself."

Far away, the Shaper felt resistance harden into something worse:

The Boy Who Was Never Written