The ruling council is dying, and the only cure lies in the Oasis of First Light, a place lost for centuries. As the last descendant of the sun-chasers, you alone can read the shifting dunes of the Ashveil Wastes, where all others are swallowed. But the journey is deadly, and time is running out—your sister carries the same wasting plague, and every step you take is closer to her death or yours. Will you risk everything for a myth that may be nothing but a desert legend?
The story begins
The chamber stank of rot and dying breath. The Council of the Dying sat in their high chairs, their skin like old parchment stretched over bone, their eyes milky with the plague's final gift. The eldest, a woman named Orin, raised a trembling hand, and the room fell silent.
"You are the last," she rasped, each word a labor. "The last sun-chaser. The map is incomplete. The Wastes will test you. But you will find the First Light, or your sister's name joins ours on the funeral stones."
Your jaw tightened. Sera's face flashed before you—her cough rattling the thin walls of your hut, her smile still bright despite the wasting. You took the map. The parchment was cold, the ink old, and one line glowed faintly under your touch: The First Light is found by those who chase the sun.
You turned without a word. The door groaned open, and the ash wind hit your face like a slap. Behind you, Orin whispered one last thing, meant for your ears alone.
"Beware the man who walks in your shadow."
You stepped into the Wastes, the dunes shifting like a living thing, and the sun burned overhead—a patient, watching eye.
What happens next is up to you.
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