
by Root_of_Oblivion
We called our home the Half Grave. When the sun sets, humans fall into a death-like sleep—helpless, dreamless, gone. Every single night. For your entire life. Most people accept this. Build walls. Hide behind traditions. Call it holy. I refused. My name is Jalal, and I have purple Resonance—a color that shouldn't exist. I was raised in the frozen Sanctum of the Skaldrak tribe, trained by a father who'd escaped the Southern Empires to hide in the one place the world forgot. But I didn't want to be forgotten. I wanted what every legend has: a story worth remembering. So I left. With my best friend Khasar—who dreamed of conquering empires—and Solongo, who just wanted to see the world's beauty. Three youngsters from a dying tribe, walking toward civilization with nothing but ambition, and the reckless certainty that they'd become something more.
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