Throne of Moonfire

Long before time had a name, when the stars still danced and breathed life into the void, the cosmos stirred. Starlight collided with shadow and, from that strange, silent birth, so too came the First Races. The First Races were ancient and the races were wild, and, in those days forgotten by all but gods gone mad, they were full of teeth. They took the world, and, with power, they shaped it, and, in whispers and scar, they wrote their laws.The stars, however, have a funny way of laughing at the laws of mortals.

They fostered a strange gift upon stranger hands, and, from the dust of the fragile mortal coil, they gave rise to something the likes of which no one could have expected: a bloodline not born of beasts or gods but birthed and marked by fire from the twin moons. Moonfire, they called it. It did not play by the old rules, and it frightened those who had been playing the game the longest.Naturally, the First Races did as all old powers do: they hunted the new light. They buried it as deep as they could, buried it beneath lies and beneath blood. Most forgot. Some remembered. Yet nothing that is buried remains beneath the earth, and the light from the moons always returns to dance.Now, a girl wanders the edge of that lost fire. Some say she was chosen, and others say she was built. Either is true, or maybe both. But she carries that which is old and that which is bright and, most of all, that which is dangerous. If, indeed, the thing buried beneath the earth wishes to return to the land of the living, god and king alike should be wary.