How I Build My Fantasy Worlds: Thios and Beyond

Ceara Nobles
Dec 15, 2025
5 min read

Worldbuilding is one of those things that sounds very serious. Very official. Very I definitely have a leather-bound notebook filled with maps and runes.

The truth is… sometimes worldbuilding starts with a single ✨vibe✨ and spirals wildly from there.

For me, worlds aren’t built all at once. They grow. They change. They argue with me. They refuse to behave. And occasionally they show up fully formed at 2 a.m. when I absolutely should be asleep.

Today, I want to pull back the curtain on how I build my worlds. I’m going to focus mainly on Faery and Thios, the city at the heart of the Rising Elements series, but you’ll also get a small, mysterious peek at what’s coming next (hello, Rainlands 👀).

If you’re a fellow writer, reader, or curious soul who loves sinking into fictional places, welcome. Grab a coffee. Or a map. Or both.

Step One: Start With a Feeling, Not a Floor Plan

I never start with geography.

I know, I know. Somewhere, a fantasy cartographer just gasped.

But for me, a world always begins with a feeling.

For Faery, that feeling was green.

Trees everywhere—trees that are looming, larger than life, and ancient
moss-covered everything
a dark, cozy (or, depending on the events in the story, stifling) atmosphere
in a word, fantastical

The city of Thios itself needed to feel equal parts homey and constrictive, depending on Everly’s frame of mind. When she first travels there, her eyes are opened to a new world, but she quickly realizes that everything isn’t as it seems—that the Fae who live there are oppressed, literally lower-class, and that rebellion is just waiting to ignite into an inferno.

Once I understood the emotional weight of the world, then I could start asking practical questions, like who rules over these Fae? How does their geographical location affect the characters and the world itself? What kinds of customs and ideologies might stem from that oppression?

The answers to those questions shaped everything else.

Meet Thios: A City That Refuses to Fall

Thios isn’t just a setting — it’s a character.

It’s a wondrous city built by magic and blessed by a goddess. Even though Everly finds it downtrodden and oppressed, it’s rich in history and character.

When I’m building a city like Thios, I think about:

What does this city fear?
What is it protecting?
What would it look like if it stopped fighting?

For Thios, the answer to that last one is simple: it wouldn’t exist anymore. Not in the way it’s meant to—free.

That pressure bleeds into every aspect of the city — from how people move through it to how they speak, how they interact with Everly and other characters, and how leadership operates.

Maps Are Useful… But Vibes Come First

Yes, I use maps.

No, they are not pretty at first.

Most of my early maps look like something scribbled on a napkin by someone who had one idea and no spatial awareness. But maps help me answer important questions, like:

How long does it take to get from the Great Tree to Aki’s house?
Where would an air ship have space to land?
If there was a rebellion forming, where would the rebels meet in secret?

Only later do details like markets, homes, and gathering spaces soften the edges — because people still have to live here, even if they’re oppressed.

Mythology: The Invisible Architecture

One of my favorite parts of worldbuilding is mythology — the beliefs that shape a place even when they aren’t actively on the page.

For Thios, mythology answers questions like:

Why do people fear certain powers?
Who do they pray to when things go wrong?
What stories do children grow up hearing before bed?

Even if readers never see every myth spelled out, they feel them. Belief systems influence decisions, traditions, and how characters justify their actions — especially in times of crisis.

And let’s be honest: mythology is also where I get to be dramatic.

Sensory Details: Make It Lived-In

If there’s one thing I obsess over, it’s sensory detail.

I want readers to feel like they’re walking into the world alongside my characters. To be able to envision every shutter, every cozy glowing window.

For Thios, that means:

laughter and the sound of wheels on cobblestone
the slight dampness that covers every surface
the way sunlight filters through the tree canopy high above, spotlighting emerald green

When I write a scene, I often ask myself:

What would this moment sound like if you closed your eyes?

If I can answer that, the world feels real.

Let Characters Shape the World (and Vice Versa)

Everly’s relationship with Thios is complicated. She didn’t grow up there, but she somehow ends up responsible for it and the Fae who live there.

That matters.

A character’s history with a place shapes how they see it. Thios feels different through Everly’s eyes than it would through someone who has lived there their entire life.

Worldbuilding gets stronger when:

the city challenges the character
the character challenges the city
neither comes out unchanged

By the end of the Rising Elements series, Thios is not the same city it was at the beginning — and neither is Everly.

Worldbuilding Is About Limits, Not Just Possibilities

It’s tempting to make worlds limitless. Endless magic. Endless power. Endless solutions.

But limits are what make worlds interesting.

Thios has limits, especially later in the series:

limited resources
limited time
limited options

Those constraints force hard choices — and hard choices create story.

Whenever I feel stuck while worldbuilding, I ask:

What can’t this world do?

The answer usually unlocks everything else.

Beyond Thios: A Glimpse of What’s Coming

Now… let’s talk just a little about what lies beyond Thios.

I won’t say much (because I like mystery and also I’m not ready to spill everything yet), but I will say this:

Where Thios is full of life, hope, and a future dripping with promise…

Drosmere is weather, myth, and remnants of old magic that abandoned humankind.

It’s grittier. Wetter. Wilder. Less controlled. Less contained.

If Thios is a city where magic promises a bright future, Drosmere is a land cursed by the very magic that created it.

That’s all you’re getting for now. 😉

The Big Secret of Worldbuilding

Here’s the truth I wish someone had told me earlier:

Worldbuilding isn’t about having everything figured out.

It’s about building enough of the world that the story can move—and trusting yourself to fill in the rest as you go.

Some details emerge naturally. Some evolve. Some get rewritten three times because the world decided it wanted something different.

And that’s okay.

Thios didn’t appear fully formed. It grew alongside the characters, the stakes, and the story itself. And honestly? That’s my favorite way to build a world—messy, organic, and deeply alive.