Chapter 1: The Crimson Rift
The kingdom of Ashara was a land condemned. Centuries ago, it had been a flourishing realm of green valleys and crystalline rivers, a paradise for those who dwelled there. But paradise had turned to ash. The Fire Priests, in their insatiable thirst for power, had performed the Ritual of the Rift—a forbidden summoning meant to harness the power of the Netherworld. Instead of granting them control, the ritual tore a hole in the fabric of their world, unleashing the Inferna, creatures born of pure chaos and fire.
Now, Ashara was a wasteland of volcanic crags, rivers of molten lava, and skies choked with perpetual twilight. The air itself seemed alive with malice, a heavy weight that crushed hope from the hearts of even the bravest souls. Few dared to live here anymore, and those who did were either too desperate or too broken to leave.
Eira was one of the desperate.
Her boots crunched on the charred ground as she made her way through the ruins of what had once been the village of Eranor. All that remained were blackened timbers and crumbling stone walls, remnants of a town that had been reduced to cinders in a single night. Eira moved quickly, her sharp green eyes scanning the debris for anything salvageable. A shard of metal, a handful of dried herbs—anything that could buy her a few more days of survival.
In her hands, she clutched a relic passed down from her mother: a fiery crystal set into an iron pendant. It pulsed faintly, a dull glow that seemed to synchronize with her heartbeat. The relic was the only thing she had left of her family, a constant reminder of her mother's sins.
Her mother, the infamous Fire Priestess Liora, had been one of the architects of Ashara's doom. Though she had not survived the ritual, her name was cursed throughout the kingdom, and by extension, so was Eira's.
Eira had spent her entire life running from that legacy, but no matter where she went, the past followed her. The Inferna had seen to that.
As if summoned by her thoughts, the ground beneath her feet rumbled. Eira froze, her hand tightening around the hilt of the dagger strapped to her belt. The sound was faint at first, like a distant drumbeat, but it grew louder with each passing second. She spun around, her breath catching as she saw the source of the disturbance.
A pack of Inferna hounds emerged from the shadows, their bodies wreathed in black flames. They moved like living smoke, their molten eyes locked onto her with unrelenting hunger.
"Damn it," Eira muttered under her breath, gripping her dagger tightly.
The hounds lunged as one, their snarls echoing in the ruins. Eira ducked and rolled, her dagger flashing as she slashed at the nearest beast. Her blade met resistance as it sliced through the creature's fiery form, but it wasn't enough to kill it. The hound snarled and turned on her, its claws raking across her arm.
Eira hissed in pain, but she didn't stop moving. She darted between the crumbling walls, using the terrain to her advantage. The hounds followed, relentless in their pursuit.
Her chest burned, her lungs screaming for air as she fought to stay ahead of them. She knew she couldn't keep this up. The hounds were faster, stronger, and there were too many of them.
She stumbled, her foot catching on a loose stone, and fell hard to the ground. The relic slipped from her grasp, its glow brightening as it rolled across the dirt.
The hounds closed in, their molten bodies casting eerie shadows across the ruins. Eira raised her dagger, her hand trembling. She was prepared to fight to the end, but she knew it wouldn't be enough.
Then, out of nowhere, a cold wind swept through the ruins, extinguishing the hounds' flames. Eira's eyes widened as frost spread across the ground, freezing the Inferna in their tracks.
A figure stepped into view, his silhouette framed by the dying embers of the hounds. He was tall, his blackened steel armor glinting faintly in the dim light. A longsword hung at his side, its blade covered in frost.
The man looked down at her, his icy blue eyes piercing through the gloom. "You're either very brave or very foolish to wander these lands alone."
Eira pushed herself to her feet, wincing as she clutched her wounded arm. "And you're either very lucky or very reckless to save someone like me."
The man's lips curved into a faint smirk, though there was no humor in his eyes. "Luck has nothing to do with it. I've been watching you."
Eira's grip on her dagger tightened. "Watching me? Why?"
"Because you have something I need," he said, his gaze flicking to the relic lying on the ground.
Eira stepped in front of it, her voice sharp. "You'll have to fight me for it."
The man raised his hands in a placating gesture. "Easy. I'm not your enemy, and I don't want to hurt you. But that relic… it's the key to ending all of this."
Eira's heart pounded. "Ending it? You mean the Inferna?"
He nodded. "The rift, the Inferna, all of it. That relic can seal the rift for good."
Eira stared at him, torn between hope and suspicion. "Who are you?"
The man hesitated before answering. "My name is Kael. I'm… a survivor."
"Of what?"
He looked away, his jaw tightening. "Of the Iceborne. My clan was destroyed during the rift's creation. I've been hunting the Inferna ever since, trying to make up for the lives I couldn't save."
Eira studied him, her instincts warning her to stay on guard. But there was something in his eyes—something haunted and broken—that made her pause.
"Fine," she said reluctantly. "You saved my life. I'll hear you out. But if you try anything…"
Kael nodded. "Fair enough. But if we're going to do this, we'll need to move quickly. The Inferna aren't the only ones hunting that relic."
Eira glanced at the glowing crystal in her hand, her mind racing. She had spent her whole life running, but maybe—just maybe—this was her chance to fight back.
"Lead the way," she said.
Kael's smirk returned, though it was colder than before. "Stay close. The path ahead isn't for the faint of heart."
Together, they disappeared into the ruins, the weight of Ashara's fate resting on their shoulders.