Chapter 1: Ashes in the wind
The wind howled through the blackened pines like a grieving widow. Where once vibrant green blanketed the hills, now only ash remained. Charred earth, broken stones, and smoke curling skyward were all that greeted Kaelen as he dismounted at the edge of the Vale of Orreth. His boots crunched softly on scorched ground.
He stood still for a long while, surveying the devastation. The village of Werrick—his home—was gone. Nothing remained but the skeletons of houses, their beams twisted and blackened by flame. Not even the bodies were left. They had been taken—or burned beyond recognition.
He pulled the thick wolf-cloak tighter around his shoulders. Summer should not have ended so quickly. But the fires had come before the snows, unnaturally, and with them came the whispers of dark things stirring in the east.
Kaelen's fingers brushed the hilt of his sword, Virelion, an old steel blade with ancient runes etched into its fuller. He had not drawn it in over a year, not since the king's last border campaign. But now the flames had followed him home, and he knew peace was gone.
A crow circled above and gave a single caw before vanishing into the smoke. Kaelen turned toward the lone path that led deeper into the highlands. He had to find her.