Blood And Ash And Flesh And Fire Reading Order の小説・ストーリー

And yet instead of being comforted, coldness crept up and down her body. She shook her head and opened the paper bag. Her hand raised a black bonnet, in which she placed on her head until only a pair of cold blue eyes gleamed under the moon. She picked a lighter out from her pocket and lit the the paper bag on fire. A plastic scent filled her nose, but it was quickly replaced by the smell of smoke and the scattered ashes. She blew on the lighter, and the flame went out, then she looked back up to the sky and glared.

Seraphina’s POV The flames were dying. Ash curled upward in the suffocating dark of the library, thin spirals of smoke clinging to the vaulted ceiling like desperate prayers that refused to rise. The last of the glowing pages fell into cinders on the stone floor, and the light it had given us—the fragile, blessed shield—dissolved into nothing. Beyond that circle of dying fire, the monsters closed in, shadows weaving between bookshelves, claws dragging over wood and stone, eyes like fragments of the abyss.

Ash was thrown backward, his body hitting the ice floor with a heavy thud. "Ash!" Rhea shrieked, struggling against the invisible weight pinning her to the altar. "Are you okay? Talk to me!" Ash scrambled to his feet, his breath coming in ragged, whistling gasps. He held his hands out in front of him. The skin from his fingertips to his wrists was gone, replaced by a raw, blackened char that shimmered with violet embers. The "cold-fire" had eaten through his flesh down to the bone in a matter of seconds.

And once I found it, wounded and weak, its eyes already changing colours and life almost draining out of it, my heart had clenched. And so I crouched low to its level, brushed my fingers over it and with much gentleness, I carried it to my hands like it were some child before I walked over to a low pavement I could climb. I laid him down gently and then sat beside it before I opened the book in my hands to read. It was titled, “SPELLS AND CHANTS.” As one of my best books, I never stopped reading it and to my younger self, it felt very useful, although many thought of it as fiction.

His screams were short lived as his body collapses like a bag of rocks as if suddenly remembering it was always just flesh. He hits the floor with a dull sound, my eyes fixating on his still beating heart as his form fractures lying still on the ground. But he dosen’t even bleed, Not when my foxfire runs into his blood. Instead he turns into bright golden ash. Spilling across the floor like the dirty scum of the earth that he was! And I just stand there. Watching, breathing steadily and easing the storm still raging in my chest. Claws still extended with his heart still in my hand with Foxfire still burning.

The ash burned my palm, but I didn't care. "You have to," he said, looking at me one last time with golden eyes that were slowly fading into gray. "For them. For us." The airships opened fire again. A rain of silver bullets chewed up the ground around us. Riven roared, his body exploding into a massive cloud of sentient ash. He flew into the sky, a dark storm hitting the first airship head-on. The metal groaned and snapped as the ash clogged its engines, sending the massive ship spiraling into the cliffs.

Her face was pale, her eyes red. "Bentley!" she shouted, pointing straight at me, her voice shaking. "You killed my father!"

The clone fought it, scratched and clawed and fought, its black-silver blood boiling where the flames touched it, the smell of burning wrongness filling every inch of air. But it wasn’t enough. “You are formidable,” Asher said, his voice quiet now, almost gentle. His grip didn’t loosen. “But you are not the real thing.” The body crumbled. The head followed. The fire ate what was left until even the ashes were gone, and Asher was standing in the centre of the wreckage, adjusting his cuffs.