Prologue: Before Fire
"Long ago… humans were not the hunters.
They were the hunted."
The words echoed like a prayer through empty skies, heavy with the weight of truth.
The world was not kind. It was raw, brutal, merciless.
Mountains towered like teeth from the earth, rivers roared with untamed violence, and the forests whispered with predators that thrived in shadow. But even those dangers were nothing compared to the beasts—the rulers of the land.
Their claws tore through wood and stone as if they were parchment. Their roars drowned thunder, shaking the skies themselves. Every step they took made the ground tremble, as though the earth bowed beneath their weight.
In those days, humanity lived in fear.
Huts of straw and clay could not withstand the fury of talons that raked through walls. Spears shattered against scales as thick as iron. Fire—once thought to be mankind's greatest discovery—was nothing more than a flickering candle in the face of creatures that breathed flame from their own lungs.
Villages vanished overnight, reduced to rubble and bone.
Screams of families became the nightly chorus, mothers muffling the cries of children as monstrous shadows prowled outside their caves. Fathers stood with shaking hands, clutching crude spears, knowing they would not see dawn.
A hunter once raised his weapon toward the beast that slaughtered his kin. His shadow, trembling in the light of burning huts, was swallowed whole by the colossal silhouette of a creature whose teeth glistened with fresh blood.
That night, he died without leaving a mark.
And yet… humanity did not vanish.
Not because they were strong.
Not because they were cunning.
But because they refused to disappear.
Day after day, they endured. They rebuilt. They lit fires anew even when smoke still lingered from the last. Every morning began with fear. Every night ended in loss.
But still—they survived.
It was not living.
It was only enduring.
And from that endurance… came defiance.
Whispers spread among the broken villages. Of fire that could be wielded, not only for warmth, but as a weapon. Of sparks that could grow into flames strong enough to scar even the monsters.
Whispers became stories.
Stories became legends.
And legends… became the beginning of something more.
The crackling of fire was the only sound left as the voice fell silent.
"This was the world before hope.
Before fire itself became a weapon.
This… was the beginning.
The beginning of Flameborn: The Last Ember."
---
Orvale: The Quiet Before
At the foot of the Greyfang Mountains, wrapped in forest and river, lay a quiet village.
Orvale.
The sun poured golden light across fields of swaying wheat. The river shimmered like silver glass, carrying the playful laughter of children who splashed along the banks. Birds darted between trees, their songs blending with the hum of cicadas.
Orvale was not mighty. It was not rich. But here, life was simple.
Men tilled the fields, their brows damp with sweat, hands strong and calloused from years of toil. Women carried buckets of water from the stream, their voices rising in chatter and song. Children raced barefoot through grass, their shrieks of joy echoing across the hills.
At dusk, families gathered around the great firepit in the village center. Flames flickered warmly on smiling faces as bread and stews were shared, along with tales older than the mountains themselves.
Every soul had their place.
Every soul belonged.
And for a time, Orvale lived untouched.
---
The Children of Orvale
Among the noise of laughter and life were four inseparable figures.
Kaen was first—wild energy in human form. His dark hair always fell untamed over his forehead, his amber eyes forever searching the horizon as if the world beyond Orvale called to him. Mischief followed him like a shadow. His grin, too wide and too daring, often led to scoldings… or worse, adventures.
Beside him walked Riku—his balance, his tether. Quiet and composed, Riku's sharp eyes missed nothing. She listened more than she spoke, her words rare but steady, carrying weight far beyond her age. Where Kaen burned like fire, Riku steadied like stone.
Then there was Lira—gentle-hearted, her brown hair often tied into neat braids. Animals followed her as if enchanted. Birds perched near when she sang; stray dogs curled against her feet when she sat by the hearth. Her laughter was soft, light, carrying a warmth that eased even the harshest days.
Lastly, Daren—the loud one, the bold one. Taller than the others, his booming voice carried across fields as he puffed his chest with pride. If Kaen dared leap a fence, Daren swore he could leap two. If Kaen waded into the river, Daren plunged deeper. His boasting never ended, yet his loyalty was as fierce as his pride.
The four of them were bound like threads woven into a single fabric.
They raced through the fields until their legs burned.
They stole apples from the orchard, laughing breathlessly as the orchard keeper gave chase.
They lay on the grass at night, gazing at stars, whispering dreams they swore they'd one day chase together.
In those moments, it felt like forever.
---
The Oak Tree
That night, the moon bathed the world in silver. The oak tree at Orvale's edge stretched tall, its branches whispering secrets to the stars.
Beneath its shade, laughter echoed.
Kaen swung from a low branch, legs kicking wildly as Riku sighed.
"You'll fall and break your neck," she muttered, arms crossed.
Kaen grinned down at her. "Not if I land like a hero."
"Heroes don't dangle like monkeys," Riku replied flatly.
Daren's laugh boomed as he pounded a fist against his chest. "I bet I could climb twice as high!" He began scrambling up the trunk, grunting with effort.
"You'll break the tree, more than yourself," Lira said through her giggles, brushing dust from her dress.
The boys bickered, the girls laughed, and for a time, the world was still.
---
The First Tremor
Then—
The wind shifted. Cold and sharp. Clouds devoured the moon, swallowing its silver glow.
The forest stirred unnaturally. Birds shrieked as they burst into the night sky. Deer crashed through the underbrush, fleeing blindly into the fields. Wolves howled—a sound not of hunger, but of fear.
And then, the ground trembled.
At first, faint. A whisper beneath the soil.
Then stronger. A pulse, deep and heavy, rumbling through their bones.
The children froze.
The oak's branches shuddered. The lantern hanging at its trunk swayed.
Then—
A roar.
It clawed at the sky, endless and ancient. A sound that did not belong to the world of men. It tore through marrow, froze the heart, shattered the soul.
The children's laughter died.
Their wide eyes turned to the forest.
From the shadows emerged silhouettes—massive, shifting, wrong.
Scales glistened.
Claws gouged trenches into the dirt.
Teeth gleamed like daggers, dripping with hunger.
Dinosaurs.
Predators of a forgotten age, their hides scarred by countless hunts.
And leading them—something greater.
The ground split beneath each step. Its colossal frame towered over houses, skin cracked and jagged like stone split by fire. Old wounds marred its hide, scars glowing faintly as though embers still burned inside.
Its eyes glowed, molten amber. Flames licked from its jaws, spilling fire with every breath.
The Bringer of Ruin.
The nightmare had come.
---
Chaos: The Bringer of Ruin
Orvale erupted.
The village that only hours ago was filled with laughter and warmth now drowned in fire and screams.
Walls crumbled beneath claws that shredded wood and stone as if they were paper. Straw rooftops caught flame in an instant, fire racing across them like lightning, embers scattering into the night. Smoke billowed skyward, choking the stars.
Screams tore through the air. Mothers clutched children to their chests, fathers shouted for them to run, elders collapsed in despair as monstrous shadows towered over them.
"Run! Everyone, run!"
Kaen's heart hammered in his chest. His hand clamped tight around Riku's as he dragged her through the chaos. Daren stumbled behind them, his usual bravado silenced by sheer terror. Lira clutched her skirt, her breaths trembling and uneven.
The world was fire.
The world was ruin.
---
The Chase
The ground split as a beast broke through the smoke—a hulking predator with a gaping maw lined with jagged teeth, its eyes glowing like coals. It roared, and the force of the sound knocked lanterns from their posts, shattering them in sparks.
Its gaze fell on the children.
It lunged.
Daren tripped. His knees slammed into the dirt. His wide eyes stared at death itself.
"Go! Leave me!" he cried, voice breaking.
But Kaen's legs locked. His chest burned. Every part of him screamed to flee—yet he spun back.
"No!"
His small hands grasped Daren's arm, pulling with all his strength. His teeth clenched, his body straining as he tried to lift his friend to his feet.
The beast's shadow swallowed them whole. Its breath seared against their skin.
Kaen's strength faltered. His mind blanked. This was the end.
And then—
---
The Phantom Warrior
A blur.
Something shot past them—swift, sharp, unstoppable.
A rider appeared, mounted on a beast of his own. A raptor-like creature darted through fire and chaos, its scales gleaming black, its claws striking the dirt with terrifying precision.
Atop it sat a warrior clad in blackened armor etched with scars of countless battles. His twin blades flashed in his hands, silver arcs slicing through the night.
One strike.
One flash.
The monster's head fell.
Its body crashed into the earth, blood spraying across the dirt. The ground shook beneath its fall.
Kaen's breath caught. His wide eyes reflected the warrior's figure—a shadow against firelight, a phantom cloaked in steel.
The warrior did not pause. Did not look at them. Did not speak.
He rode onward—into fire, into chaos, his blades carving death with each sweep. Monsters fell in his wake.
To Kaen, he was not a man.
He was something more.
Something impossible.
For the first time that night, awe eclipsed fear.
---
The Defender's Cry
"Children! To the safe place! Go—don't look back!"
The voice cut through the chaos.
Ragna. One of Orvale's defenders. His blade dripped with blood as he planted himself between the beasts and the fleeing villagers. His eyes blazed with fury, his voice unyielding.
He swung his sword with a roar that rivaled the monsters, cleaving into the nearest beast's leg. It screamed, collapsing into the dirt, thrashing wildly.
Kaen's grip on Riku tightened. His lungs burned as he ran, dragging her with him. Daren stumbled to his feet, stumbling after them. Lira followed, tears streaming down her soot-stained cheeks.
Smoke clawed their lungs. Fire licked at their heels. Every step felt like running on broken glass.
But still, they ran.
---
The Fall of Orvale
The children darted through the streets, but Orvale was no longer a village—it was a battlefield.
Corpses littered the dirt paths, their faces frozen in terror. Flames devoured homes, swallowing cherished memories in smoke and ash. The air reeked of burning flesh and blood.
Monsters prowled through the chaos, their roars mixing with the shrieks of the dying.
Kaen's chest heaved. His vision blurred from the smoke. Yet he thought of only one thing.
Home.
If they could reach their houses—if his family was alive—they could escape together.
He pushed harder, dragging Riku even as she coughed, even as Lira stumbled, even as Daren cursed under his breath.
His mind clung to hope like a drowning man to driftwood.
They had to be alive.
---
The Bringer of Ruin
The ground shook harder now. Each tremor rattled Kaen's teeth, made his bones shudder.
And then—he saw it.
From the fire and smoke, it emerged.
The Bringer of Ruin.
It dwarfed the other beasts, towering like a mountain wrapped in living flesh. Its cracked hide glowed faintly, embers spilling from jagged scars that ran across its colossal body. With every breath, flames spilled between its teeth, painting the night with fire.
Its eyes locked onto the village below—molten amber, burning, merciless.
The roar it unleashed shattered the sky. Windows burst, ears rang, hearts stilled.
Kaen's body froze. His knees threatened to buckle. His very soul screamed at him to collapse.
But Riku's trembling hand gripped his. Lira's sob shook beside him. Daren's ragged breathing echoed in his ears.
And Kaen forced himself to move.
"Run!" he choked out, his voice breaking.
Behind them, Orvale burned.
---
Ashes and the Phantom Warrior
The village of Orvale was no longer Orvale.
It was a furnace. A graveyard. A nightmare.
The Bringer of Ruin's roar still echoed in Kaen's bones as he ran, dragging Riku's hand with his own. Smoke blurred the world into shifting shadows and orange flame. Daren stumbled, cursing under his breath, his legs barely keeping pace. Lira clutched her dress as tears streamed down her soot-streaked cheeks.
The night air was thick with burning—burning wood, burning flesh, burning lives. Each breath clawed at their lungs like smoke made of glass. The once-familiar streets were choked with rubble. Lanterns lay shattered, wagons overturned, walls split open like broken bones.
---
The Predator's Shadow
A sudden roar ripped through the haze.
Kaen spun—too late.
A beast lunged from the smoke, its claws tearing grooves in the dirt as it charged. Its breath reeked of blood, saliva spraying from jagged teeth.
Lira screamed. Daren froze, wide-eyed.
Kaen's body locked. His mind screamed at him to run, but his legs wouldn't obey.
The monster's shadow fell over them—
And then a flash.
Steel sang through the night.
Blood sprayed.
The beast collapsed, its throat slit wide.
Standing over it was a figure Kaen could hardly comprehend.
The Phantom Warrior.
He was mounted still on his raptor-beast, twin blades dripping red. The firelight caught the jagged scars carved into his blackened armor. His helm obscured his face, but his presence was undeniable—like a storm wrapped in flesh and steel.
He didn't look at them. Didn't speak.
He spurred his mount forward, weaving through fire and smoke with inhuman speed. Beasts lunged. His blades answered. One after another, monsters fell in his wake, their bodies shaking the ground as they crashed into the earth.
Kaen's eyes widened.
"He's… unstoppable…"
For a heartbeat, hope flickered in his chest.
But then the Bringer of Ruin roared again, and hope died beneath its weight.
---
The Defender's Last Stand
"Children!"
Kaen turned. Ragna, one of the village defenders, staggered toward them. His armor was torn, his sword chipped and bloodied, but his eyes burned with defiance.
"To the safe place!" he roared. "Go! Now!"
Another beast lunged for them, jaws wide.
Ragna met it head-on, his blade flashing. The steel sank deep into the monster's shoulder, and both man and beast tumbled into the dirt.
Kaen froze. His chest ached.
Ragna shouted without looking back:
"Run!"
Kaen clenched his jaw, dragging Riku again. Daren and Lira followed, sobbing and stumbling, as the world collapsed around them.
---
The Search for Home
They turned the corner into Kaen's street. His chest pounded, his lungs burned, but his mind screamed only one thought:
Home. I have to get home.
His legs pumped harder. His feet slammed into the dirt.
They rounded the bend—
And Kaen froze.
His house—gone.
Flattened.
Shattered beams jutted from the ground like broken bones. Flames devoured what remained, sparks dancing in the black smoke. The doorway where his mother once stood, calling him in for supper, was nothing but ash.
Kaen's breath hitched. His knees wavered.
"No…"
His lips trembled as he stumbled forward.
"Mother…? Arlen…? Lyra…? Sera…?"
He called their names into the fire.
No answer.
Only the crackle of flames.
Only silence.
The world dimmed. Sound dulled. Smoke blurred into haze.
Kaen's chest collapsed inward, like something had reached inside him and torn out his heart. His legs buckled. His swordless hands trembled in the glow of burning ruin.
---
A Faint Whisper
And then—
A sound.
Not fire. Not screams. Not beasts.
A cough.
Weak. Fragile. Human.
Kaen's eyes widened. His heart lurched.
They're alive…
The haze shattered. The flames roared back into focus. His body moved before his mind did. He scrambled forward, clawing through smoking debris with his bare hands. Splinters bit into his palms. Ash stung his eyes. Heat seared his skin.
"Hold on!" Kaen screamed, voice cracking. "I'm here! Don't give up!"
Behind him, Riku shouted, "Kaen, wait! It's not safe!"
But Kaen didn't hear. Couldn't hear.
There was only that cough. That voice. That desperate hope.
The ground trembled again, heavy as thunder. The Bringer of Ruin's shadow stretched across the ruins.
Kaen's breath caught.
The world teetered on the edge of death once more.
---
The Last Ember
Kaen clawed at the wreckage, splinters cutting deep into his palms. Smoke bit at his lungs, flames singed his skin, but none of it mattered. Beneath the rubble, someone was alive—he had heard them, he was sure of it.
"Please… hold on!" he cried, voice raw.
Riku knelt beside him, trying to pull back beams with her smaller hands. "Kaen, it's too heavy!" she shouted, coughing as smoke swirled around her face.
Daren stood back, fists trembling, torn between running and helping. "The whole place is coming down!" he bellowed. But even he, for all his fear, moved forward, gripping a burning plank and heaving it aside. His arms shook, but he refused to let go.
Lira clasped her hands together, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Please, please be alive…" she whispered, almost like a prayer.
The cough came again. Faint. Weak. But real.
Kaen's heart surged with hope. He reached deeper, hands blistering, smoke stinging his eyes until tears mixed with ash on his cheeks. He pulled and pulled, teeth clenched, body trembling.
And then—
---
The Shadow Above
The ground shook.
Not the trembling of collapsing homes or stampeding beasts.
This was heavier. Deeper. Ancient.
Kaen froze. His chest tightened. He didn't need to look. He already knew.
The Bringer of Ruin was here.
Its shadow stretched over the ruins, blotting out firelight and moonlight alike. Its breath washed over them, hot and sulfurous, carrying embers with every exhale.
Kaen forced himself to turn.
It towered above them—colossal, monstrous, its cracked skin glowing faintly like molten stone. Its eyes locked onto Kaen with a hunger that felt older than the mountains themselves.
The world stilled. The flames hushed. The children could hear only the pounding of their own hearts.
The Bringer opened its maw.
Inside was fire. Endless, blinding fire.
---
The Desperate Stand
Kaen's body locked. Every instinct screamed at him to flee, but his hands refused to let go of the rubble. His family was there. He had heard them. He could not—would not—run.
Riku clutched his arm, tears streaming. "Kaen! We have to go!"
"No!" he shouted, voice breaking. "They're alive—I can't leave them!"
The Bringer's throat rumbled. Fire gathered between its jaws.
Lira screamed, covering her head. Daren grabbed Kaen's shoulder, yanking with all his strength. "You'll die here, idiot!"
Kaen thrashed, refusing to move. His heart burned hotter than the flames gathering before him.
And then—
A blur cut through the night.
---
The Phantom Returns
The Phantom Warrior.
His raptor mount darted across the burning ruins, claws tearing through the dirt as if the earth itself bent to its speed. His twin blades gleamed in the firelight as he leapt forward.
One sword slammed into the Bringer's jaw with a deafening clash, forcing its head to the side. Fire erupted skyward instead of into the children, searing the night with blinding light.
The ground shook as embers rained down.
Kaen's eyes widened in awe. The warrior had stood against the Bringer itself.
But the Bringer did not fall.
It roared, the sound so loud the children clamped their hands over their ears. The Phantom's mount staggered under the force, but the warrior steadied it, raising his blades once more.
For a heartbeat, Kaen swore he saw the impossible—steel standing against fire, a single soul daring to defy a god of ruin.
---
The Safe Place
"Children!"
The voice cut through the chaos again—Ragna, bloodied and broken, but still standing. His armor was in tatters, his sword bent, but his eyes blazed with unyielding resolve.
"Go! To the caverns! Now!"
He limped toward them, swinging his battered sword at another beast that lunged through the fire. He was slowing, faltering, but he did not stop.
Kaen's heart tore in two. His family beneath the rubble. Riku, Lira, Daren at his side. Ragna fighting with the last of his strength. The Phantom Warrior dueling a monster that should not exist.
He couldn't move. He couldn't choose.
Riku's trembling voice broke the silence: "Kaen… if you die here, no one will remember them. No one will carry them forward. Please."
Her words cut deeper than any blade.
Kaen's chest heaved. His fists clenched. His heart screamed.
But he let go.
---
The Last Glimpse
Daren grabbed him, dragging him back. Lira sobbed, clutching his sleeve. Together, the four stumbled toward the path that led to the caverns.
Kaen looked back—one last time.
The Bringer loomed, its jaws glowing with another firestorm. The Phantom Warrior darted like a shadow, his blades flashing silver against molten scales. Ragna stood between villagers and death, his voice hoarse as he roared defiance into the night.
And beyond the smoke and fire, Kaen thought he saw it—movement in the rubble of his home. A faint outline. A hand.
His heart shattered.
The firestorm fell.
---
The Cliffhanger
The children dove into the shadows of the forest path as a wave of fire swallowed Orvale whole.
The night sky blazed red. Smoke devoured the stars. The roar of the Bringer drowned out every sound.
Kaen's body hit the dirt. His lungs burned. His vision swam. But even as tears blurred his eyes, even as fire scorched the world behind him, one thought seared into his mind:
This isn't the end.
Not for him.
Not for Orvale.
Not for his family.
Somewhere in that ruin, a spark still lived.
And Kaen swore—swore with every shred of his soul—that he would find it.
Even if he had to walk through fire.
Even if he had to fight the Bringer itself.
Because this was not the end.
This was only the beginning.
The beginning of the Flameborn.