Long ago, when the breath of the world was still warm and young, a force descended from the sky. Neither fire nor shadow, neither god nor man—it landed silently in a meadow of living green. It hummed with the weight of ages, cloaked in the glow of both sun and moon.
No one saw it fall. The world slept through its arrival, wrapped in winters that bled into summers, and summers that faded into dust.
The meadow grew wild around it. Generations turned into legends. Legends into whispers. Then nothing.
But the force waited still. For the one who would wake it—not with flame, not with glory, but with the absence of all things the world worships the " Void Cultivator".
The one who was never supposed to matter.
Author's Note:
Hi there, dear reader 💫
Thank you so much for reading "The One Without Flame." This is my very first story being shared online, and every comment, vote, and little heart means the world to me.
If you enjoyed this blurb or upcoming chapters (or even if protagonist made you want to throw something 😂), please:
✅ VOTE if you're feeling the fire (or the lack of it 😉)💬LEAVE A COMMENT— your thoughts, reactions, or even questions help me grow and fuel the next chapters🔖 ADD TO YOUR LIBRARY so you won't miss the next twist
I'm just starting out, but I promise to pour my soul into every word. Your support helps me more than you know. Thank you for being here with me from the beginning. 💖
— With gratitude,
Rina_Pearl