When gods feel the heat of mortal fire, even the immortal must kneel — or burn.
"The gods do not walk among us.
They sit in thrones without names.
And the fire they fear is the one that refuses to be named."
— Ancient Verse of the Emberborn
I.
The sky above the Kingdom of Skarvath cracked like shattered glass.
Thunder rolled, but no rain fell.
From the golden spires of the Silent Throne rose a storm—not of clouds, but of raw divine fury.
At the throne's summit sat the High God Veyr-Haal, cloaked in shifting fire and shadow. His eyes burned like dying stars, cold and merciless.
News had reached him of a man who had stolen the flame.
A man who had shattered silence and named what was meant to be forgotten.
"Reginal J. Ashveil," he intoned, voice echoing through realms,
"You think yourself a king. A myth. A god."
II.
But Reginal did not tremble.
He stood with Ma'karash, wings folded like a storm ready to break.
Kammy's blade sang the lullaby of a thousand battles.
Milo's eyes flickered with the black fire of the Warden.
"I am no god," Reginal said, voice like the clash of steel and flame.
"But I carry a fire even gods fear—the fire of freedom."
III.
Veyr-Haal laughed—a sound like worlds collapsing.
"Freedom is a flame that devours all, including itself.
You will burn, Fangborn, and your empire will be ash."
He summoned the Cinder Wraiths—ghosts of fallen gods and forgotten kings, their forms flickering with eternal flame and despair.
"Burn," he commanded.
IV.
But Reginal lifted Mournshard.
The blade blazed with every story he had claimed, every truth he had sworn to protect.
With a cry that shook the heavens, he struck.
V.
The battle was not of might but of meaning.
Each clash rewrote fate.
Every strike tore away lies and reshaped the past.
The Cinder Wraiths screamed as they faded—not destroyed, but remembered no more.
Veyr-Haal's power faltered, his throne cracking beneath him.
VI.
In the final moment, Reginal faced the High God.
Their eyes met—a storm against a volcano.
"You cannot unmake what has been named," Reginal said.
"I am eternal," Veyr-Haal growled.
"No. You are only forgotten," Reginal replied—and drove Mournshard through the Silent Throne.
VII.
The god's scream shattered the skies.
But as he fell, the throne crumbled.
The gods' grip loosened.
The world shuddered.
And Reginal stood.
VIII.
The war was not over.
But the fire was now in the hands of mortals.
The Emberborn had a king.
And the world had a new legend.
TO BE CONTINUED…
Next: Chapter XX – The Birth of the Ember Empire
The final chapter of Book I. Reginal must rebuild a broken world, face betrayals, and claim his legacy—before the ashes settle and the next war begins.