In the twilight of Nol, where the skies shimmered with silver constellations and rivers whispered secrets of forgotten gods, a boy named Kael dreamed of power. Not the kind that ruled villages or commanded armies, but the kind that bent destiny itself. Kael was no prince, no chosen heir. He was a wanderer’s son, raised among ruins and shadows. Yet every night, when the wind carried the echo of ancient chants, he felt the realm calling to him. Somewhere beyond the mountains of fire and the forests of glass, a path awaited — a path that would lead him to greatness, or to ruin. And in that same twilight, a girl watched him from afar. Her eyes held both warning and promise, for she knew that Kael’s journey would entwine with hers in ways neither prophecy nor heart could predict.