Ruin of the Cinder City

Prologue

The city wasn’t always fallen.

No.

Once, it had been a bustling metropolis.

Once, it had bowed to no one.

The City of Cinala was a place where people from all around the world would visit… Would want to visit.

It was a halfway house in the midst of their travels. A known refuge between the City of Velaviere and Ralenthia.

A safe haven.

A comfort.

Unconcerned with the politics of the world, where everyone was welcome.

The travellers would come from far and wide to get a taste of the famous street food or to buy rare jewels from the countless merchants who would walk the streets unapologetically, and more importantly, unafraid.

Or they’d come for the hand-woven clothes, the embroidered pieces, the stylish hats and accessories, sprawled out in the shop windows on display to draw customers in.

Some would come just because they could. And that was okay.

…Until he came.

The King of Darkness.

The war didn’t last long. Not with his kind of power. It was almost as if he had just strolled in and taken the city, infected it with his own poison.

That’s what he did.

He was a living, breathing disease, feeding on all that was good in the world, until there was none of it left.

No one knew where he came from.

Someone with such immense power had never been seen on this side of the world. Theories abounded, but none could be proven.

Some believed he was the spawn of the devil. Others thought he was the devil himself.

He built a wall of shadows around Cinala, its darkness so thick that it would consume you if you tried to leave. He tore down buildings and streets, setting the city ablaze with his own twisted sorcery.

The people didn’t fight back.

Not really.

They didn’t have time.

Cinala was there one moment, and gone the next. Where buildings once stood, ash and rubble now resided. And so a new city was born…

The City of Cinders.

The City That Fell.