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.

Beneath the city that had been un-erased, a narrow passage of blackened marble descended deep into the earth. The deeper they walked, the less sound followed them.


But the absence of the possibility of sound.


And in the center — a pool of water so still, it didn't ripple when Davin touched it.


Then words appeared, not spoken, but inscribed in thought, across each of their minds:


"You have come to the well of forgetting.


Drink, and know what the world chose to lose."


She knelt, cupped her hands, and drank.


A world of quiet sky, of stone that sang when struck, of people without fire — but full of light.


In the center of it all were three figures.


One chose to speak truth. One chose to hide truth. One chose to unmake it.


They governed a world without flame, without death — where memory flowed like water and was shared freely.


Or perhaps it was born from within the world.


The Silent Triune could not abide contradiction.


They decided — together — that truth must be chosen.


Because fire, unlike memory, does not forget.


Let history begin anew — a world with flame, with war, with gods…


Lira fell backwards from the vision, choking on air.


"They didn't die — they chose to let the world forget them!"


"Because the truth wasn't clean enough," Lira whispered.


"Because history refused to be obedient."


The pool of forgetting cracked — and from it, three voices echoed at once:


"But now that you have… you must choose."


In the darkness beyond the stone walls, three shapes began to stir.


And the world that had forgotten them… would now be asked to remember.


Chapter 32 - The Birth of Silence