The crackle of firewood echoed softly in the cottage.
Outside, the wind howled gently through the trees, brushing against the wooden walls like whispers from another world. Inside, warm candlelight painted gold across the ceiling beams.
Jasmine held me close in a rocking chair, swaying gently. I couldn't speak, not in this tiny body — but my mind was as sharp as it ever was.
"Do you want a story, little one?" she whispered, brushing a lock of black hair from my forehead. I blinked slowly in response. It was the closest I could get to please.
Three months had passed since my arrival and my new parents had begun telling me bedtime stories. Right now, they were my only way to learn of the history of this world.
She smiled. "Alright then. Let me tell you the story my mother once told me… about the world you've been born into."
She shifted slightly, voice lowering, softening like falling snow.
"Long, long ago, before the first kings and crowns… before the Great Cities and the High Orders… there was only Cairn."
Cairn. That was the name of this world. Or at least the name of the continent I was now on.
"A single, vast continent — wrapped in mountains, forests, and endless seas. Wild, untamed… and full of magic."
My tiny fingers gripped her shirt gently.
"In those days," she continued, "magic flowed freely through the land like wind and water. It wasn't studied or measured — it lived. And the four Great Races each claimed a piece of Cairn for themselves…"
She raised one hand, fingers ticking upward with each name.
"Humans carved cities into stone and plains, quick to grow and quick to fight."
"Elves bound themselves to the deepwoods and the moonlight, speaking with spirits and beasts alike."
"Ogres ruled the highlands and mountain passes, earthbornes with a knack for crafting, born with strength like walking storms."
"…And the Demons took the darklands. Shadowed lands where the sky never quite clears. They mastered forbidden flames and secrets that should've stayed buried."
That got my attention.
Even as a baby, I recognized tension in her tone. Hesitation.
She rocked us gently, then continued.
"At first, the four races lived… not peacefully, but separately. They had their own territories, their own ways. And though they fought at times, it wasn't until the First Flame War that everything changed."
I watched the fire crackle in the hearth.
She leaned in, eyes soft with memory and warning.
"It began when the Demon King — Vael'Zareth — tried to tear open the Veil Between Worlds. He believed there were powers hidden beyond Cairn, far older than the gods themselves."
"But the ritual failed. Or maybe… it worked too well."
I felt the weight in her voice now. A hush, like the story itself feared being told.
"The sky split. Fire fell. And something wrong came through. Not mana, but something similar. An energy source. They called it the Starborn Calamity — a wound in the world that couldn't heal."
I remembered the white light that consumed me before reincarnation. A coincidence… or something else?
"Cairn was nearly destroyed. But the Four Races did something they'd never done before."
"They stood together."
Her tone warmed again, like the flame beside us.
"The High Elves cast a binding over the skies. The human Archknights rode into the burning lands on dragons born of ash. The ogres crafted devices to seal the breach. And the demons — what few survived — gave up their King to close the wound they had opened."
I blinked slowly. So demons weren't just villains — not always.
"In the end, Cairn won. The Calamity was patched. But what couldn't be fixed, was trust."
Jasmine's eyes glimmered in the firelight.
"The world didn't go back to the way it was. The Demon lands were shattered and scattered. The elves returned to their forests, their hearts turned inward. The ogres began to fade from the world. And the humans… well, we built."
"We always build."
Her gaze grew distant.
"Now, Cairn is divided into five nations."
She tapped her fingers against my blanket, counting again.
"Velan — the kingdom of humans, built on ambition and coin."
"Sylvarra — the elven homeland, cloaked in silverwood and moonlight."
"Drakarim — the broken ogre highlands, home to tribes and trials."
"Rexor — the demon frontier, where survivors now live under shattered skies."
"And Kaelridge — the neutral central lands. A haven. Or a powder keg."
That last name lingered.
Kaelridge.
A nation born from peace, yet always close to war.
"It's been two-hundred years since the First Flame War," she whispered, tracing circles against my chest.
"But no peace lasts forever."
She smiled again, gentler now, and planted a kiss on my brow.
"One day, you'll learn the names of kings and killers. You'll ride the rivers of power and fate. But for now, little Ajax…"
She laid me in the crib and tucked in the blanket.
"For now, just sleep. Dream of mountains and stars, and know you're loved."
⸻
She blew out the candle.
But my eyes stayed open.
Because I wasn't dreaming of stars.
I was dreaming of the Calamity.
Of ancient wars.
Of fire that fell from heaven.
And of a world — Cairn — still healing from wounds time had not yet closed.