BLOG Series #1: Origins of a Novel
Before college, my writing was predictable. If you read my previous blog, you know I translated games I played with my cousin into their own stories. While these stories were fun, I struggled to give them a life beyond the stories we created. After those days of playing make-believe ended, I practiced writing by imitating the stories I loved, trying to capture the worlds and magic I had always wanted to create but was too afraid to achieve on my own. Two main projects dominated my early years, they were:
1. A secret world of elemental magic where a fifth, hidden element has been wiped from history: Chaos. This world was inspired by my favorite parts of Avatar: The Last Airbender, with the touch of secrecy that the wizarding world has in Harry Potter. I imagined an island, hidden by magic, where those gifted with the ability to bend these elements were sent to train. The great evil was not about a desire to rule or bend the will of others, but rather a study of the corruption when the greater balance is thrown off.
2. A political fantasy laced with morally grey gods. My first attempt at writing “adult” fantasy was inspired by Game of Thrones. At this time, all that meant was bigger action sequences, darker magic, and strange gods. I was still too shy to let my characters swear or kiss without fading to black.
Looking back, I learned so much from writing in this way, but there was still so much room to grow. One of the best things I’ve learned as a writer is to let go of those darlings. No matter how precious they may be, sometimes they are better left forgotten (or belonging to the narratives from which they originated) so that new stories and fresh characters have space to breathe.
From the wreckage of these worlds rose something much more exciting: Midar. The setting and home of my novel, The Last Celestial. While I did have to grapple with killing those darlings, I took away the important lessons and applied them to my new project. I still wanted to push the boundaries of what “good versus evil” looked like (if there was any distinction between them at all), but I also needed to find my own voice. The Last Celestial became that place. With 200,000+ words of epic, dark fantasy interwoven with the romantic and narrative twists I had always craved, my novel came together like a dream.
Session Zero: Building a World
When I finally decided to pursue an English major and Writing minor, I gained tools I didn’t even know I needed—research methods, the ability to define, review, and refine my own voice, and the confidence to write consistently. Instead of copying what I loved, I learned how to comment on it, learn from it, and create my own arguments. With the threads of a story, I began to craft a world, and before I even got to writing my characters, I was planning histories. Over the last five years, I invented magic systems, pantheons, trade routes, political factions, and even dabbled with the beginnings of creating a fantasy language.
As a longtime Dungeons and Dragons fan, I started my worldbuilding—like any good Dungeon Master does—with a session zero. This gathering before the campaign can be used for many things: setting expectations, creating characters, establishing dynamics, and, generally, setting the stage. Before diving into the writing, I let myself breathe. I sank my feet into the Midarian soil and filled my lungs with the air of a fantasy world fully at my disposal. The maps, factions, and myths soon started rolling out as if it were a history I was capturing rather than creating.
And so, from scribbled timelines, doodled maps, anthologies of a made-up history, and compendiums of various flora and fauna, Midar became a living place.
The Betrayal of the Celestials
Like many epics, Midar begins with gods—though here they are known as Celestials. Five descended upon Midar to shape it to their will, but before a balance could be attained, Sovereign carried out a deceit of the highest order.
The eldest of the Celestials, Sovereign, feared the power of Void—the Celestial of the shadows, dreams, and death. It was during their descent that Sovereign imprisoned the youngest Celestial within himself, thereby taking Void’s powers and blocking him from enacting any part of his will. The empty western lands Void was meant to shape became a sore reminder of Sovereign’s betrayal of his Celestial family. The land was scarred by their brief battle and cursed for the foreseeable future.
Yet Sovereign’s hunger did not end there. With a taste of what did not belong to him, he sought to wield the power of the other Celestials as well. Star—Celestial of the skies, storms, and life—became Sovereign’s accomplice and, together, they forged a blade out of steel and magic that could keep Void trapped without harming Sovereign himself. From their experiments came the First Artificers—humans fused to living metal and gems, able to attune to the power of the Celestials.
It was the dawn of magic in Midar. But it came with a terrible price.
The Great Silence
For a time, Midar prospered with magic. The Circle of Artificers rose, each pledging themselves to the different Celestials, and all was well. Until there was war. Sovereign’s schemes led to his and Star’s downfall, and the world paid the cost. The stars dimmed, the humans waged war, and, eventually, the rest of the Celestials withdrew. The magic of the artificers faded without them, and so too did the sky, until all of Midar was covered in a perpetual, black cloud that left the world in quiet and dark.
This age became known as The Great Silence. Generations passed. The myth of the Celestials and Artificers was lost.
Three thousand years later, the sky is still dark, and no one even remembers what the silence belonged to.
A Hero’s Call
Here is where The Last Celestial begins. The story follows Ciaran, a boy coming of age in the forgotten corners of Midar. When soldiers from the Northern Kingdom recognize his unusual golden eyes, they mistake him for the Sovereign of legends and bedtime stories. The answers he’s sought about the death of his parents spiral into a quest for a truth far greater than he could have imagined.
Together with his sister, Cellyn, and two friends, Ciaran is called to an adventure that turns the stuff of myths into gruesome deceptions and violent battles for truth. The Celestials may be silent, but remnants of them still linger in Midar. And when the Darksky persists, someone must be the one to bring back the Celestials.
What Lies Ahead?
This is just the beginning. The Last Celestial might be complete, but the road to getting it published is long, and with 200,000+ words, it could use a trim. It’s dense, but rich, and some of its story could (and will) be saved for potential sequels and spin-offs as the world of Midar continues to grow every day. Still, while I go on this journey, I am excited to share more with you all!
Midar is too vast to be told in one book (or blog) alone. The first installment only plants seeds. In the coming weeks, I’ll be expanding this blog series with exclusive insights into the Celestials (including some that were not covered here), the Artificers, and the many histories that shaped this world. For now, consider this your invitation to join me on my quest to bring Midar to your shelf!
Gallery
Below is very early concept art and plans I had for the series.
An EARLY map of Midar with a cutout for easy tracing and changing as the story evolves.
My ideas for an artificer’s gauntlet. This one belongs to a specific character.
The gems slotted into an artificer’s gauntlet for attunement. You might notice that the names of each Celestial are different. Soul is now Star, and Lost Blood is Void.
Concept art of what the Celestial Moon looks like.*
Concept art of what the Celestial Sun looks like.**
Ideas for sigils/symbols of each of the groups of artificers (dependent upon the Celestial they get their power from).
* Celestial refers to the physical being, although they are also connected to the celestial body in the sky.
** See above.
