Feared and revered across the Empire of Solistia, Nyala Nkosi was known as the most powerful sorceress of her time. A prodigy whose magic blazed like the golden sun of the eastern continent, her name was spoken with awe—and, in time, with betrayal.
Her beginnings, however, were far humbler. Born to an outcast mage mother who lived as both a thief and a con artist, Nyala never knew her father—a noble from a ducal family who had long since abandoned them. The streets became her first home, and survival, her first lesson. Under her mother's guidance and the watchful eyes of a local gang, she learned to steal, deceive, and fend for herself. Yet, amid the chaos, her mother was her world.
That world collapsed when illness claimed her mother's life. At eight years old, Nyala could do nothing but watch as the only person she loved withered away. Left alone, she was cast into an orphanage where cruelty ruled. There, the children were treated as little more than laborers, their spirits broken beneath harsh words and harsher hands.
It was within that place of suffering that Nyala's power first stirred. Magic had always run in her blood, dormant and unnoticed—until the night she nearly drowned by the river. Barely clinging to life, she was found by Archmage Mazu Nkosi of Talmerein. Recognizing the raw, untapped potential within her, he did not simply take her in as a student—he adopted her as his daughter.
At first, Nyala resisted. She had lived too long relying only on herself to trust in the kindness of others. She ran. She fought. She denied the magic surging inside her. But magic is not so easily silenced. When she finally embraced it, she poured her soul into the art. By the age of ten, she was casting spells with precision; by fifteen, she had already surpassed many seasoned sorcerers.
But power breeds fear. The Church viewed her talents with growing suspicion, arguing that magic should not be wielded like a weapon. Debates within court and congregation erupted over her training, leading to restrictions and delays. Forced into the shadows, Nyala continued her practice in secret, guided only by the celestial spirit who had become her closest companion.
At eighteen, her fate changed again. As war consumed parts and borderlands of the eastern continent, Mazu petitioned the emperor, claiming that Nyala's abilities could turn the tide. Despite opposition from the priests, the ban on her power was lifted. She was introduced to high society and thrust into a world of politics, ambition, and veiled threats. Nobles sought to control her; enemies cloaked themselves in courtesy.
At nineteen, she was summoned to the imperial palace and officially appointed as the Crown Prince's sorceress, tasked with accompanying him to war. On the blood-soaked fields of Illmouria, Nyala fought beside imperial forces. When victory was secured, she returned a hero—celebrated by the people, envied by her peers. Even among magicians, whispers of resentment spread. Yet she continued to accomplish great feats for the empire, elevating once again the status and significance of magic across Solistia.
By twenty-two, as she prepared to march again with the imperial prince, the empire was torn apart by a sudden coup. Betrayals and shifting loyalties plunged Solistia into chaos, and the civil war that followed lasted eight long, brutal months. Three months after the dust finally settled, the crown prince, Vaelkain Solléonis, ascended the throne.
But for Nyala, there was no triumph—only loss. The Talmerein Magic Chamber had been obliterated. Mazu, her friends, her family—slaughtered. She alone survived, a breathing relic of what once was. With nothing left, she withdrew from the imperial court, accepted the honors and compensation offered to her, and vanished into the wilderness.
Yet peace would not be hers.
Barely a week into her solitude, she was ambushed and captured. Accusations blazed through the empire: she had orchestrated the coup, manipulated the war for her own gain, and—most damning of all—murdered Mazu and her mage kin. The former emperor, enraged, demanded justice. Though Vaelkain Solléonis, his Empress, and the Empress Dowager stood by her innocence, the remaining Magic Chambers—the North, West, and South—united against her. False documents surfaced. Forged testimonies spread like wildfire. Her enemies, hidden in plain sight, feigned innocence while ensuring her downfall.
Branded a traitor and a usurper, Nyala did not resist. Her will had been broken. Her fire, extinguished.
In the cold marble halls of Solléonis Palace, her magic was sealed. And before the eyes of those she had once bled for, Nyala Nkosi—the Golden Ray of Solistia—was hanged and burned, a spectacle for all to see.
But death was not her end.
As the flames consumed her, a steward of the Sun Master descended from the heavens. With divine grace, he offered her a gift—a final chance.
Four hundred years from that moment, she would rise again.
And this time, she would not be history's victim.
She would be its witness.