In a world fractured by ancient wars and shattered skybound cities, Orin—an ordinary young man from the quiet village of Ervenholt—discovers he is the last of a long-lost line of Skyborn, a group of powerful beings tied to the anchors that once held the heavens in place.

When a mysterious force known as the Hollow Star begins to stir, threatening to unmake reality itself, Orin’s life is thrown into chaos. Along with the enigmatic scholar Kaelen and the fierce warrior Mira, he embarks on a journey to uncover forgotten truths, face ancient enemies, and repair the broken anchors that could hold the sky together—or tear it apart forever.

Their journey takes them through forgotten realms, across the deadly Black Waste, and into the heart of the floating city of Nahl’Karai, a place where the laws of time and memory have unraveled. Along the way, Orin must confront his own past, which is intertwined with the very destruction they’re trying to prevent.

But the Hollow Star is not the only power they must contend with. The Order of the Veil, a mysterious faction seeking to control the fate of the world, is hunting them, intent on using Orin’s power to shape the future for their own purposes.

In a race against time, Orin must choose whether to restore the anchors and face the Hollow Star—or destroy it once and for all, risking the unraveling of everything. As secrets from the past resurface, Orin’s true name, his true purpose, and the fate of the forgotten sky will be revealed.

Not from beasts or hunger or even the Blight—but from smoke.


The scent reached Kaelen first. "Scorchers," he said. "They've found the village."


Orin turned, looking west. A black column of smoke curled up into the sky, too fast, too straight to be a natural fire.


Mira's voice cracked. "They burned it?"


Kaelen didn't answer. He didn't have to.


They pushed deeper into the Withered Grove, winding between roots like pale bones. Orin still felt the echo of the vision—the chained sky, the voice, the terrible war—but had no words for it.


"Why are they hunting us?" he finally asked.


Kaelen's pace didn't slow. "The Order of the Veil seeks control, not truth. They know a Skyborn has awakened. You."


Kaelen glanced back. "Marked by the stars. Tied to the anchors. Born not of this era, but of the sky before it shattered."


Orin blinked. "I was born in Ervenholt."


Kaelen gave a thin smile. "Your body, perhaps."


They reached a clearing, at the center of which stood a long-dead monolith—stone etched with symbols half-swallowed by the earth.


Kaelen placed a hand against it. "This was once a waypoint of the Celestial Path. A memory gate. We can't use it—it's dormant—but there may be something beneath."


They turned to see shadows moving through the trees—figures in scorched red armor, faces hidden behind cracked masks. Each one held a torch that burned with green flame.


Mira drew a dagger—useless against fire, but she gripped it anyway.


One Scorcher raised a hand, and the flame extended outward—not like fire, but like a whip—slashing across the clearing.


Orin didn't think. He raised his hand—


Hung in the air. Quivered. Then shattered into light.


Kaelen stared at Orin, eyes wide. "You shouldn't be able to do that yet."


Orin stepped back. "I didn't mean to—"


And a voice rose from the earth, deeper than thunder and older than time:


> "Skyborn recognized. Anchorpath restored. Sequence initiating."


Chapter 4 - Chapter 4: Scorchers on the Wind