Episode 1 – The Night of Ruin
Prologue – Before Fire
"Long ago… humans were not the hunters.
They were the hunted."
A claw—massive, scaled, dripping with blood—ripped through a hut of straw and wood. People screamed as fire consumed the night, smoke twisting into the heavens.
"Huge beasts ruled the land. Their roars shook the sky. Their steps shook the ground."
Families huddled in caves, clutching one another, praying to be overlooked. Mothers pressed trembling hands over their children's mouths, whispering, "Stay silent…"—as glowing eyes gleamed in the dark beyond.
"Humans were weak. They made fires. They built walls.
But the monsters always came back."
A river flowed crimson. A lone hunter raised a shaking spear, his shadow dwarfed by the colossal beast before him.
"Every morning began with fear. Every night ended in loss.
This was not living.
It was only surviving.
And yet… humanity did not vanish.
Not because they were strong…
…but because they refused to disappear."
The voice faded, and only the sound of fire remained.
"This was the world before hope.
Before fire itself became a weapon.
This… was the beginning.
The beginning of Flameborn: The Last Ember."
Beneath the shadow of the mountains lay a quiet village.
Orvale.
The river ran clear, its waters gleaming like glass beneath the sun. The fields stretched wide, swaying with grain that promised tomorrow's bread. The forest sang with life—birds trilling, deer darting, rabbits darting through the grass.
Here, the world seemed gentle.
Here, people worked, laughed, and lived as though no darkness could ever touch them.
Men tilled the fields, backs bent beneath the weight of the soil. Women carried water from the streams, their voices mingling in soft laughter. Children chased one another barefoot through the grass, their laughter rising high into the sky.
Fruits gathered. Firewood stacked. Stone walls tended.
Every soul had their part.
Every soul belonged.
And when the day ended, the people gathered by the fire, the warmth of family binding them together.
Orvale was not rich.
It was not mighty.
But it was alive.
Among the laughter of the village was Kaen.
A boy with restless eyes, a grin too wide for his face, and a spirit that always leaned toward adventure.
Beside him was his best friend, Riku—quiet, thoughtful, eyes sharp as if they could catch every secret in the wind. Where Kaen leapt without looking, Riku held him back, keeping trouble just one step further away.
Then there was Lira—her brown hair braided neatly, her voice always carrying laughter. Animals followed her as though they understood her kindness. Rabbits often nibbled fruit from her hands while she hummed.
And lastly, Daren—the loudest, boldest of them all. Tall for his age, broad-shouldered, always boasting. If Kaen claimed the sky, Daren swore he could climb higher. If Kaen dared the river, Daren swore he could swim farther. His teasing never ended, but neither did his loyalty.
The four of them ran together through the fields, chasing dreams as though the world had no teeth.
They laughed. They argued. They dreamed.
And for a time… it felt like forever.
That night, the sky stretched endless and clear. The moon hung high, silver light bathing the fields in calm.
Under the oak at the edge of the village, Kaen and Riku laughed.
Daren teased.
Lira smiled.
The world was still.
Then—
The wind shifted.
Clouds devoured the moon.
Birds shrieked from the forest, bursting into the sky. Deer bolted from the shadows, crashing blindly through the fields. Wolves howled, their voices thick with fear.
And then… the ground moved.
A low vibration, subtle at first, then violent—like the world itself groaning.
Stone walls shivered. Lanterns rattled. Dust fell from the oak's branches.
And then—
A roar.
Low. Endless. The kind of sound that lives in the bones, that claws at the soul.
The children froze.
From the forest, shadows moved.
Huge. Shifting. Crawling closer with every thunderous step.
Scales caught the firelight.
Claws dragged furrows into the earth.
Teeth flashed.
Not one beast. Not two. Dozens.
Dinosaurs.
Predators of a forgotten age, their bodies scarred by endless hunts, their hunger endless.
And leading them—something greater.
A beast larger than any house. His hide was split with old wounds. His skin cracked like stone. His jagged teeth gleamed, dripping with flame.
His eyes burned red. Fire spilled from his jaws, igniting the night.
The villagers gasped. Some whispered his name—an ancient word, carried in old stories. Others could only scream.
The bringer of ruin.
A terror even other beasts feared.
The night of Orvale had ended.
And the nightmare began.
The village fell into madness.
Walls crumbled as claws tore through stone. Roofs collapsed in fire. The air filled with screams, smoke, and the thunder of monstrous steps.
"Run! Everyone, run!"
Kaen's chest pounded. He grabbed Riku's hand, dragging her through the chaos. Daren stumbled behind, his face pale, his shouts trembling.
The children ran.
But death followed.
A dinosaur broke through the smoke, its eyes fixed on them. It charged, claws shredding earth, jaws wide enough to swallow them whole.
Daren fell. His knees struck the dirt.
"Go! Leave me!" he cried.
But Kaen turned back. His hands burned with strain as he pulled Daren up, refusing to let him go.
And then—
A shadow loomed.
The beast towered over them, jaws open, fire gleaming between its teeth.
Kaen froze. His heart seized. His body refused to move.
Death fell—
But a blur cut across the night.
A rider burst forth, mounted on a raptor-like beast that streaked across the battlefield with unnatural speed.
Black armor gleamed beneath the firelight, scarred by battles long past. In the warrior's hands were twin blades—steel so sharp the night itself seemed to split as they moved.
One strike.
One flash.
And the beast's head fell.
Its body crashed to the earth with a sound like thunder.
Kaen's breath caught.
The warrior did not pause. Did not speak. Did not even look at them.
He simply rode on—into the fire, into the chaos—his blades a storm of death.
To Kaen, he seemed less man… more phantom.
For the first time that night, awe eclipsed fear.
Through the din of roars and screams, a voice cut clear:
"Children! To the safe place! Go—don't look back!"
It was Ragna, one of Orvale's defenders. His sword dripped with blood. His eyes burned with resolve.
He charged forward into the beasts without hesitation, his roar louder than theirs.
Kaen's grip tightened on Riku's hand. With Daren at his side, they ran.
Smoke tore at their lungs. Flames licked their heels. The ground split with every monstrous step.
But Kaen thought of only one thing.
Home.
The familiar path came into sight. His chest ached. His legs burned.
They're safe. They have to be safe.
He turned the corner.
And stopped.
His house—
Gone.
Flattened. Splintered beams lay in the ash like broken bones. Fire devoured the rubble, its crackle louder than the screams beyond.
Kaen staggered forward. His throat tightened, words breaking from his lips.
"Mother…? Arlen…? Lyra…? Sera…?"
No answer.
Only the crackle of fire.
Only silence.
The world faded. The chaos around him blurred, swallowed by a silence that pressed like a blade to his heart.
And then—
A cough.
A whisper.
A voice.
Kaen's eyes widened. His heart lurched.
They're alive…
The world snapped back into focus.
The screen faded to black.