Forged in Flame

Arc 1: A Kingdom in Flames

The kingdom of Ysirith, once a land of peace, now trembles under the weight of war. The skies are thick with ash, and the once-green fields lie in ruin. Smoke rises from the horizon, where distant villages burn, and the people's cries echo through the castle walls. All the while, whispers of the dragon's return send a chill through the hearts of every citizen.

Princess Arin Tsunhime, now heir to the throne after the untimely death of her father, stands at the centre of it all, her heart hardened by grief and a fiery resolve. With the kingdom on the brink of collapse, she knows that the only way to save her people is to slay the ancient dragon herself—a beast so fierce and powerful it was once believed to be nothing more than a myth.

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Arin stood before the grand window of her father's war chamber, her reflection barely visible in the stained glass as it cast flickering shades of red and orange across her face. The sun was setting, bathing the land in a fiery glow, almost mocking her. Smoke curled in the distance where the dragon's flames had burned yet another village to the ground.

Her hands clenched into fists at her sides as she looked down at the map spread across the large wooden table behind her. It was marked with pins—too many pins—denoting where battles had been fought, where the enemy had pushed through their defences, and where the dragon had ravaged their lands.

"They speak of peace," she muttered, her voice low and filled with disdain. "But what kind of peace can be found in the belly of a dragon?"

She turned sharply, her armoured boots clanging against the stone floor. General Kael, her father's most trusted military commander, stood at the head of the table, his weathered face drawn into a frown.

"The council does not believe you should leave the kingdom's protection to chase legends," Kael warned, his gruff voice cutting through the tension in the room. "Your duty is here, Princess."

Arin scowled, her pride flaring at the suggestion she remain sheltered. She had been caged in this castle long enough, watching her kingdom fall apart piece by piece.

"They're cowards," she spat, her fingers tightening around the hilt of her sword. "If I stay here and do nothing, I may as well sign my people's death warrant. I will slay the dragon myself."

Kael's brow furrowed as he shifted his weight uncomfortably. "Your father, the late king, also believed he could handle everything alone," he began, his voice quiet but firm. "His pride... it led him to take unnecessary risks, ones that ultimately—"

"Don't," Arin interrupted sharply, her voice cutting through the air like a blade. "Do not speak of him that way."

Kael took a step back, surprised by the intensity in her voice, but he held his ground. He was used to Arin's stubbornness, her sharp tongue that could pierce even the most stoic of hearts, but today, it carried an edge that unsettled him. Her gaze was hard, her fists clenched at her sides.

She wanted to keep her composure. She needed to. But the mention of her father stirred something raw and fragile within her. The wound his mysterious death had left was still fresh, still bleeding, though she had forced herself to bury it beneath layers of duty and responsibility. Yet every time someone brought him up—especially Kael—it felt like they were tearing that wound open again.

"I didn't mean to disrespect him," Kael said softly. "But you know as well as I do that he was reckless. He refused to listen to counsel, to consider—"

"Because no one had his strength," Arin snapped, her voice laced with bitterness. "No one shared his vision for this kingdom. He wasn't reckless; he was brave. He did what no one else would."