Hey there, backers!

We funded so quickly, you had me in a scramble trying to come up with something really cool, haha!!

First, though, a little preview of our process~

We're currently hard at work putting the finishing touches on the book. Lettering will be post campaign, but there's lots of little bits and bobs that go into making a book ready for publication. Right now, we're working on the title logo!



These are some rough drafts our graphic designer has been working on! Choosing a font - or making one - can prove so difficult! Because you want something that looks just right and then BAM! You've been staring at the word 'legacy' so long, you're all but certain you've spelled it wrong. Haha.


This is the final that we've just settled on! Colors aren't final, of course, and there's some other minor edits that will be made before the logo is finalized and ready to be slapped on the cover of the book. But I'm stoked with how it's come together!

Oh, I did note stretch goal in the title, didn't I? :D

A funny story first.

I was putting the final touches on this campaign when the creator of Nezbrael's Legacy emails me and says he likes the cover we commissioned for the book, but wants to know what's wrong with the one he commissioned. Excuse me, sir! (we said) You didn't provide a cover. (The poor thing was hiding out in his drafts folder and never made it to us.) 

This weird accident resulted in exclusive art for the hardcover edition! But the cover art is really, really good and I felt it needed to be celebrated a little bit more.




This heckin' chonk of a pin is 3" tall, hard enamel with screen printing.

The cover art pin will be unlocked and available as an add-on if we hit $1,555 in funding.

Need a reason to switch to the all-in tier? Because it'll be added to that tier for free once it's unlocked!

You step into the glowing pool

You stand at the edge of the glowing pool, the light reflecting off of sand-dusted stone. Even this far beneath the arid landscape above, the air feels dry, heavy with heat and history. The water shimmers like liquid glass, its glow soft but steady. Beckoning. Every instinct - every fiber of your being - warns you to stop, but the ruins hum with quiet expectation. After coming this far, you can't bring yourself to turn away.

You breathe deep and take a step.

The water accepts you without resistance. It's warm - warmer than it should be - and carries the scene of dust after rain. As you wade deeper, the light climbs around your body in slow waves of gold and white until the air itself seems to bend and breathe. Your muscles ache from the long journey, but that ache soon fades and is replaced with a weightless calm.

The hum in the air blossoms into a chorus of voices - layered and distant.

"The Keeper returns not to the world, but to the memory beneath it."

Images form in the light. You see the desert as it was ages ago: not barren but rife with life and song. Towers of stone rise from the sand as great pillars - marble gleaming in the sun. You see The Guardians standing around the very pool you now occupy. Their now-faceless forms shine radiantly, guarding the pool. In the center, in the pool, kneels a mortal figure cradling a familiar sphere of light.

You recognize the figure!

Like looking in a mirror, you recognize yourself in this memory. If not yourself, then someone you once were. In another life perhaps.

"You were the last Keeper," the voices whisper. "The one who sealed away what could not be destroyed. Each offering was a memory once yours, forgotten in the long silence. Now, all returns."

Warmth floods your chest, bright and endless. You see flashes of memories - the desert before it turned to wasteland, the fall of the city founded there, the creation of The Guardians, their promise to watch until the sands forgot their names. You realize now: the ruin was never built to hold treasure. It was built to house memory itself.

The pool brightens, light spilling up the walls like dawn breaking across the dunes. The hum deepens, then it fades into something quieter - an exhale. A release. You close your eyes as the light washes over you, and you sink below the surface. There is no fear, no sound. Only stillness. And the deep, slow rhythm of the earth remembering itself. 

When the light fades, the chamber lies silent. The pool is calm again, glowing softly beneath layers of ancient stone. The obelisk hums once, like a heartbeat, and goes still. 

Above, the desert is quiet. Wind whispers across the dunes, smoothing away the last traces of your treasure hunting expedition. A single beam of sunlight breaks through the clouds, striking the sand where the ruins sleep. 

Deep below, in the heart of the oasis-that-wasn't, you rest within the glowing water. You're no longer lost. No longer searching. You have become the memory, watching over what was buried and what will someday be found again. 

Fin.

You approach the narrow stream where it trickles past the dais, the water gleaming faintly in the last of the runes' light. It winds into a crack in the wall, the gap just wide enough for a person to slip through. The air that drifts from it is cool and damp, carrying the scent of rain and stone long buried.

You duck low and crawl into the crack, the tunnel twisting downward. The sound of running water grows louder - steadier - until it becomes a constant whisper in the dark. Soon, the rough passage widens into a natural corridor - part cavern, part carved stone. Strange moss glows along the walls, pale green and trembling with movement, lighting the way forward.

As you walk, the silence of the ruin above fades entirely. Here, there's a pulse - a rhythm that matches the beating of your own heart. The water flows beside you in a shallow channel, perfectly smooth. Perfectly clear. You glance down into it and catch brief glimpses of faces - flickering and translucent. Familiar yet... not.

The Guardians. Watching. And perhaps guiding.

The passage slopes deeper. The glow grows stronger. Eventually, the tunnel opens into a vase underground basin. The ceiling disappears into shadow, supported by immense stone pillars carved with spiraling runes. In the center of the cavern lies a pool of luminous water, its surface perfectly still. The stream feeds into it with a quiet sigh, sending ripples across the light.

You step closer. All of your senses feel sharpened. The pool radiates warmth. Not physical heat. Something deeper, like standing at the edge of a dream. The runes carved into the floor circle it in intricate loops. Each loop pulsing in a slow rhythm.

At the edge of the water, stands an obelisk - a shard of the same dark metal as the hatch above. Its surface bears the same inscription: "Open, and remember."

You stand beside it, tracing the carved letters. The moment your fingertips graze the metal, the pool responds. Light surges upward, wrapping around your body in ribbons of gold. The water begins to move with an unknown purpose, spiraling inward toward the obelisk.

A voice fills the cavern - not the one from before. Instead you hear hundreds of voices layered together, echoing in harmony:  "Memory restored. Passage renewed. The Keeper may choose their path."

The ground beneath your feet shifts. Across the far wall, a second tunnel opens, framed in glowing runes that pulse like a heartbeat. Beyond it, you glimpse daylight - real daylight - filtering down through cracks in the stone.

The water continues to flow beside you, now glowing like molten silver, pouring into the open passage. The air smells of the world above, but also of something new, as if the ruin itself is breathing again after centuries of stillness.

You look down into the glowing pool one more time. Your reflection stares back, but it's not quite what you remember.

Your eyes shimmer faintly with the same light as the Guardians'.

- - -

BONUS CONTENT

Cover reveal!

You take a slow, steady breath. The sphere's light pulses softly in your hands, warm and rhythmic - like a living thing. Around you, the chamber hums - a low, resonant sound that feels almost like a heartbeat deep within the stone. Dust trickles from the ceiling as the statues shift in place, their faceless heads tilted down toward you at the center of the room.

The obsidian statue, The One Who Guarded, stands nearest. Its black surface glistens faintly in the sphere's glow, polished and impossibly smooth. Its outstretched hands remain steady, patient. You step forward, your soft boots silent upon the stone floor.

As you approach, the light within the sphere brightens, and the hum becomes a layered chord - five tones in harmony, one coming from each guardian. You feel something unfurl in your chest - a mix of dread and peace, as if a decision made long, long ago is finally being completed through you.

You pause only a moment longer before lifting the sphere high, whispering "This, I think, belongs to you."

The moment the sphere touches the obsidian palms, the world changes.

Light bursts outward, flooding the chamber in gold and silver. The air feels heavy, and you stagger backwards as the statue straightens, no longer rigid stone but a towering being of shadow. Its form wavers, flickering between human and something older - armor and memory.

The voice that follows isn't heard so much as felt: "The Keeper restores what was lost. The seal endures."

The other statues awaken in turn. The marble figure bows. The bronze sings a single resonant note. The basalt strikes the stone floor with its fist. The glass-like guardian tils its head toward you, the faint crack on its cheek glowing brightly before sealing - healing - itself shut.

A sources gust of wins rushes through the chamber - it carries the scent of clean air, rain, and something bittersweet, like the last breath of a forgotten song.

The sphere dissolves into light, drawn into the obsidian statue. The runes along the floor and walls dim, their tasks complete. One by one, the guardian statues return to stillness. Their faces remain featureless, but you sense something watching - a silent gratitude. 

The hum fades. The silence that follows is soft, peaceful. As the light recedes, you see that the chest as turned to dust. The water that once flowed backward now trickles calmly toward a newly opened passage behind the dais.

You step toward the dais, heart hammering in your chest. The treasure's glow spills across the chamber in soft rhythmic pulses - almost as if it were breathing. Each step closer to your goal makes the air denser, the hum in the walls louder, until it feels as if the entire ruin is listening for what you'll do next.

You kneel beside the chest. The light within isn't as harsh as you'd thought before. Instead it's... strangely inviting - its warmth wrapping around each of your fingers before you each touch it. The silvery cloth inside ripples faintly, stirred by an unseen current. For a long moment, you simply sit and watch the glow, half expecting the glowing treasure to move on its own.

You gather yourself and reach in.

Your fingers brush the fabric - it's neither metal no silk, but something altogether different. Cool and pliant, with the faint sensation of a heartbeat under the surface. The cloth unravels at your tough, folding away into mist and revealing what waits beneath.

Nestled inside is a sphere the size of a clenched fist, forged from that same metal as the hatch above and just as mirrored as the walls of the corridor. Inside the sphere's glassy core, lights swirl - tiny galaxies caught in a storm. You lift the orb, examining it. At your touch, a faint voice hums to life, gentle and distant:

"Memory reclaimed. Guardian restored."

The chamber responds immediately. The runes along the floor blaze to life in concentric circles, expanding outward from the chest. The statues flare back to life, each turning their faceless heads toward you. The obsidian statue takes a step toward you, it's arms extending - palms open in a gesture that's both reverent and pleading.

It wants the orb.

You hesitate, clutching it close to your breast. The light pulses once - soft, almost like a heartbeat matching your own. A wave of understanding washes over you: images of the ruin in its prime, the guardians standing watch - complete and features not yet worn away by the passage of time - the sphere resting in this very chamber, sealing something beneath it.

The voice returns. It's quieter this time, almost as if it's coming from within.

"The Keeper must choose - return what was taken, or carry it forward."

The ground trembles beneath your boots. Cracks spiderweb across the dais. The air grows hot and metallic, shimmering with power.

You stand in the center of the ruin, glowing sphere cradled in your hands, guardians watching you in expectant silence.

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Vote for what happens next in the attached poll! Next story update is this Monday :D

Also check out my current project while you're here :)