The Last Ember

Chapter 1: The Boy Who Found the Fire The rain had not stopped for forty days. The village of Ashmoor lay buried beneath gray skies, where people no longer remembered the warmth of sunlight. Children grew up believing that fire was only a story their grandparents told before bed. Seventeen-year-old Kael didn't believe those stories. Until the day he found the ember. It happened deep inside Blackroot Forest, where twisted trees blocked out what little light remained. Kael had gone searching for herbs to sell, but instead discovered an ancient stone altar hidden beneath vines. At its center rested a tiny glowing ember. It should have been impossible. Fire had vanished from the world a thousand years ago. As Kael reached toward it, the ember floated into the air and settled into his hand. Instead of burning him, it filled him with warmth unlike anything he had ever felt. Then the forest trembled. A deafening roar echoed through the trees. Massive creatures of living shadow emerged from the darkness, their glowing eyes fixed on Kael. "The Ember has awakened," one hissed. "Kill the bearer." Kael ran. Branches snapped behind him as the monsters closed in. Just as one leaped to strike, the ember burst into brilliant flames. A ring of golden fire exploded outward. The shadows screamed and vanished. For the first time in a thousand years... Fire had returned. Far away, in the black towers of the Fallen King, ancient bells began to ring. "He has found it," whispered the king, opening eyes that had remained closed for centuries. "Bring me the boy." And so began the greatest hunt the world had ever known. End of Chapter 1