Tag: Draven of Terra

  • Emberhelm: A Night of Brotherhood and Secrets

    Emberhelm: A Night of Brotherhood and Secrets


    By the fire at Emberhelm, the night before the ley lines awakened

    We drank not for glory,
    but for breath.
    For blood that still ran,
    and brothers not yet turned to ash.

    No crown weighed our heads that night.
    No blade hung between us.
    Only silence,
    and the crackle of wood older than war.

    Lore sat still
    eyes on the shadow that never left his side.
    Drax, hands calloused,
    held the storm like a sleeping child.
    Draven, scar-bound, leaned on root and stone.
    Rayne, half-light, watched the stars as if to ask
    if they would wait for him to rise.

    And I,
    I ….
    who had been all things and nothing
    looked at them not as soldiers,
    but as home.

    We did not speak of battles.
    We did not weep for lost years.
    We passed the bread.
    We tore the fish.
    We shared warmth not made of fire.

    And before the parting,
    we carved no words.
    For there are some truths
    that can’t be spoken
    without breaking.

    Thank you for reading

    Futher Reading

    The Prophecies and Tales of Taranis Unfolded

    The Chronicles of Drax

    Chronicles of Draven

    Join the Adventure in Tales of Rayne’s Universe

    Ancient Magic and Myth of the Stormborne

  • The Houses of Caernath Part 7

    The Houses of Caernath Part 7

    The Fifth Flame

    The stone circle of Emberhelm stood silent under the pale light of morning., five cairnstones glowing faintly in their ancient places. The air shimmered with a stillness that only came before something eternal was spoken.

    Taranis Stormborne, cloaked in black and silver. stepped ahead to the first cairn the one carved with roots and mountains, circled in white ochre. He turned to face the gathered warriors, wolves, and wanderers.

    “Before the dragons flew,” he said, “before the wolves howled, there were five lines of fire. We knew only three. But today, we remember them all.”

    He turned to Draven, who stepped ahead slowly, still favouring his side.

    “Brother you bled for us. You survived what none should have. You guarded the line even when no one knew it was there.”

    Taranis drew a shard of stone from the cairn itself. Then handed it to Draven, and placed a firm hand on his shoulder.

    “By the weight of the earth and the strength of the mountain, I name you Lord of Terra.”

    A cheer rose from the crowd, led by the wolves, then echoed by the dragons above. Draven bowed not to Taranis, but to the people.

    Taranis turned then, slowly, toward the fifth cairn the one none had touched in generations. It bore a sunmark, and a spiral, and a cut across its base. where an old flame once split the stone.

    Beside it stood Rayne, straight-backed now, though his eyes still bore the shadow of the collar. And beside him stood Tirena, a woman of stone and flame, silent and radiant. With one hand resting lightly on the hilt of her sun-marked blade.

    Taranis paused before speaking not as a warlord, but as a brother.

    “Rayne. We lost you once. You were chained, beaten, turned into a whisper. But you came back. And with you came fire not born of wrath, but of forgiveness.”

    “Yet even flame must have form. And no one guards the flame better than the one who sees in silence.”

    He turned to Tirena.

    “Knight of Lumen, daughter of the dawn do you stand beside him of your own will?”

    Tirena gave a single nod, her voice soft and fierce.

    “I do. Not for crown. For cause.”

    Taranis placed his hand on Rayne’s shoulder, and raised his other toward the sun.

    “Then by the fire that remembers and the light that does not burn. I name you Rayne of Lumen, Lord of the Fifth House.”

    The crowd was still for a heartbeat.

    Then a pulse rolled through the cairns. A faint hum, like the deep breath of the land itself, stirred the hair of every person there.

    The ley lines had awakened.

    Five fires, once lost, now stood again.

    Taranis looked out across the gathered faces his brothers. His people, the wolves, the dragons, the flame keepers and shadow walkers who had followed him through storm and silence.

    His voice dropped low, just above a whisper, but the wind carried it to every ear.

    “I know I wasn’t there for you. I’ll always regret that. Father exiled me… and maybe I would’ve run anyway. But that exile taught me many things.”

    He looked to each brother in turn Lore, cloaked in dusk and silence. Drax, ever the storm, hands calloused from war. Draven, grounded like stone. And Rayne, flame rekindled beside the steel gaze of Tirena.

    Taranis smiled, but it was not the smile of a warlord. It was that of a boy who had once been cast out. Now stood at the heart of everything he loved.

    Just then, Draven stepped ahead again, his voice steady.

    “Brother… you were exiled at eight,” he said. “We not protect you then. But we can stand with you now.”

    Taranis’s gaze faltered for the briefest moment not from shame, but from the sudden weight of grace.

    “And I will never walk alone again,” he answered, his voice thick with feeling.

    Around them, the wind stirred the banners of each House. The cairns pulsed faintly, glowing at their roots. Overhead, the wings of dragons cast long shadows across the circle. And for the first time in generations, all five ley lines were whole.

    Thank you for reading

    © StormborneLore. Written by Emma for StormborneLore. Not for reproduction. All rights reserved.

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    Further Reading

    The Prophecies and Tales of Taranis Unfolded

    The Chronicles of Drax

    Join the Adventure in Tales of Rayne’s Universe

    Ancient Magic and Myth of the Stormborne