Arisen From the Ash
- LECTURAS 63
- Votos 1
- Partes 3
The metallic taste of blood cursed my
mouth as I choked and coughed.
The taunting songs of war cries and bloodshed tainted the air with its merciless words full of hatred and venom.
And I lay on the ground, paralyzed and incapable of doing anything to protect the ones I grew to love.
Then, I saw my comrade fall. A sword plunged through the chest.
And everything went cold as a foolish soldier cackled above my head.
Fool. Nothing would get in my way, now.
I rose shakily to my feet, and roared. They all froze, not from fear, but from the flicker of flames trickling its way upward along their legs.
Nothing will get in my way, now.
Because I am the one arisen from the ash.
---
A tale of a young girl who is faced with tragedies a girl her age should not witness is taken into the gates of the most influential and powerful kingdom of all: The Kingdom of Avem.
Making some friend and foe along the way that take an interest in the red-haired girl with vibrant tips of orange and gold, she is lead into the realms of magic, far more than she has ever dreamt of being, learning of the lore of a mystical deity that bears a strange, uncanny resemblance to the young girl.
She then discovers while cleaning the floors in the Kingdom of Avem that she holds power that she doesn't even know how to control, and could save the Isles of Diason from the creeping darkness that threatens to take over them all.
[C]
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Long ago, when the world was young and humanity struggled against the forces of chaos, the gods intervened. They forged a sword, not as a weapon of destruction, but as a gift of hope. Each god poured a fragment of their essence into it-courage, wisdom, resilience, and strength. It's a sword meant for everything possible. For centuries, the blade lay hidden, waiting for the right moment to be discovered. It wasn't buried in gold or locked away in a grand vault-it rested quietly in the heart of the earth, untouched and unseen, until the time was right. When the first hand grasped the hilt, the sword came alive. Its surface shimmered with an otherworldly glow, a promise of the power within. The one who found it didn't know the gods had shaped it, nor did they understand the weight of what they held. But the sword recognized them. It responded to their strength, their resolve, and their needs. As the blade cut through the darkness for the first time, it wasn't just its edge that brought change. It was the force behind it-the will to fight for survival, for something greater than fear. With every swing, the sword grew brighter, stronger, as if it fed not on blood but on purpose. Though the gods forged the blade, it wasn't theirs anymore. In that moment, it became part of humanity, a bond between the divine and mortal worlds. And for the one who wielded it, the sword was more than steel and magic-it was a companion, a guide, and a silent promise: you are not alone. Thus began the sword's journey, not just as a tool of battle, but as a symbol of what humanity could become. And though its path was just beginning, the gods knew it would go on, far beyond what even they could imagine. (this is my very first novel. I got my inspiration from a nail clipper)
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