Ember Of Love

In the shadow of the Crater City of Selvarin, nestled beneath blackened cliffs and wind-swept towers, the Royal Cartographer’s Guild had fallen into silence. Once, it had been a place of booming knowledge charts drawn by flame-light and lore whispered between marble shelves. Now, the scent of old ink and ash clung to the air like rot.

Kaelen Ardros sat hunched at a crooked desk, his fingers smudged with charcoal and dried wax. His once-blue tunic was now dulled with soot and sweat. He was not meant for adventure, not bred for sword or sky. But the map he was restoring… it pulsed beneath his fingertips. Literally.

Each time he blinked, a new route etched itself into the parchment, veering from the ones he had carefully traced hours earlier. Mountains shifted. Rivers bent. A city that did not exist yesterday now blinked into place half-submerged, its spires bent like iron reeds.

He should have taken it to the High Guild. Should have handed it over. But something in him some ember from childhood tales, told him this was no ordinary relic. This map… it was alive.

A soft knock broke his trance.