Son of the Desert

Prologue

"Power doesn't always fall with thunder. Sometimes, it dissolves in silence... like sand slipping through your fingers."

For a thousand years, the Six Kingdoms held to a fragile balance, ruling over the Fringe-a vast and merciless stretch of desert that split the continent in two. At its heart, rising above the dunes, stood the kingdom of Lûmar-the jewel of the sands, cradle of wisdom and might. Its king, Elandor, was feared and revered. His word could seal treaties, spark wars, or end them with a glance.

But every jewel invites greed.
And all power, betrayal.

On a moonless night, the palace burned in silence. Shadows moved faster than torchlight. Banners were torn down. Gates opened from within. Blood spilled where peace once echoed. The coup was swift, silent, and absolute.

The king fell without raising his sword.
And with him, the legacy of a dynasty.

Only his son, Kael, managed to flee-covered in ash, terror, and disbelief. His face was stained. His name, cursed. The crown was empty, and yet he was hunted like a criminal.

No allies.
No army.
No path.

The desert is no refuge. It is an open grave. And yet it was there he fell. Where he abandoned his name. Where the prince was swallowed by the sand... and Ashan was born.

A royal child among thieves.
An heir hidden among the forgotten.
A destiny suspended between dust... and fire.