In the heart of Vandar, as dark forces close in, Elyon, a gifted Bladeborn knight, fights for his family's survival in a world on the brink of war. In the beleaguered northlands of Tukor, a servant girl with a mysterious past is forced on the run by a treacherous lord, propelling her on a journey that will change her world forever. From the Shadowfort, an ancient power is unleashed, one that will set into motion a series of events that will bring the world to its knees.

Dragons Riders: The last noble warriors in the realm. Only heroes can embolden the ordinary. For centuries, millennia, the Dragon Riders galvanized generation after generation, adding Riders to their ranks and birthing dragons from their eggs. But there are no more heroes. War with the Andarens is like nothing the Riders, nor the armies of Erador, have ever faced. In the place of heroes, there are only soldiers now. Fodder for the machine of war. This time of twilight is set to be the crowning hour of the dark when the light is losing its grip.

Legend. Myth. Nightfall has long been rumored to be nothing more than whispers on the breeze. If only it were so. In those halls of darkness, where children are taken from the world and given to shadow and dust, Asher is destined for that same fate. He will become the myth. He will become the legend. He will become the whisper of Death itself.

Minalan gave up a promising career as a professional warmage to live the quiet life of a village spellmonger in the remote mountain valley of Boval. It was a peaceful, beautiful little fief, far from the dangerous feudal petty squabbles of the Five Duchies, on the world of Callidore. There were cows. Lots of cows. And cheese. For six months things went well: He found a quaint little shop, he befriended the local lord, the village folk loved him, he found a sharp young apprentice to help out, and, best yet, he met a comely young widow with the prettiest eyes.

Mankind has lorded over the land of Illian for a thousand years, building on the ruins left by the elves, as if it were their birthright. A thousand years is a long time for an immortal race to see the truth of things, a truth that has remained unsaid for a millennium - elves are superior. They are faster, stronger, and connected to the magical realm in a way that man could never grasp. Illian should belong to them.