Kael was born without aetheric circuits. In an empire that measures a man's worth by his Aether, that makes him defective. Conscripted peasant. Cannon fodder. Nobody expects him to survive his first month. But Thornwood has horrors of its own. A creeping purple miasma crystallizes the lungs of ordinary soldiers from the inside out, while extreme temperatures freeze men in their boots. Yet the blight doesn't touch Kael, and the cold doesn't make him shiver. Slowly, the officers are starting to notice him. In a military run by noble sorcerers, being noticed is the last thing Kael wants. Because they won't protect him. They'll cut him open. Armed with a rusted rifle and a dead right hand, Kael is running out of time. He must survive before the very system that sent him to die realizes this defective peasant could shatter the empire.