Solgrave
The sun is dead. A black wound festers in the sky where it once burned. But even in death, the Coffin Sun bleeds—shedding searing fragments that fall through the stratosphere like divine shrapnel. When they strike earth, they rewrite the laws of flesh, mind, and memory. Touch one, and you're no longer yourself. You’re possessed by the light.
Sixteen-year-old Tharin Wraec touched one. It didn’t kill him. It unmade him, then forged something worse.
Now, his shadow walks beside him—alive, radiant, wrathful. A spectral twin of golden fire that moves when he doesn’t, speaks when he won’t, kills when he can’t. Together, they are hunted by zealots, dissected in dreams by suns that scream, and worshipped by the broken as a messiah of ash.
Every step they take peels away another layer of the world. Time warps. Cities melt into myth. The old sun whispers behind reality’s veil, and it wants him back.
His body is failing. His mind frays at the seams. But Tharin doesn’t want a cure. He wants vengeance.
Because when the light touched him, it made a mistake.
It left him alive.
