Brave Frontier Joy To Ashes Novels & Stories

My breath caught as the shard’s pulse merged with my own heartbeat, binding me tighter to the vision that unfolded. I stood on soil not of Dark Hollow, but of an older land where banners dripped in crimson firelight. Before me stretched a kingdom built on stone and blood, its high towers collapsing under waves of flame. Soldiers screamed as their armor melted, and at the center of the inferno stood a woman with my face—Ashara—her eyes molten gold, her hands drenched in fire and blood. I staggered back, heart hammering, yet the vision pulled me closer, commanding me to watch.

Clad in a plain black shirt as he walks through the door way. I walk to the dj set, and ask him to turn it doesn't. He does as I grab the mic and tap on it before speaking into it, catching everyone attention. “Hello~ lovely ladies and gentlemen” I catch a glimpse of Zion moving along with the crowd. “I know you are enjoying but do you know what's this bash for?” I ask, eyeing Zion who finally makes it in the front. “Tonight's Bash is for my amazing brother Zion” I drag the word ‘amazing’ in a slow silly way before adding,

Andrew's vision blurred at first, then gradually sharpened into focus. He saw beneath the bleak earth a world of devastation and raging war, fires blazing across the landscape. Black castles crumbled, consumed by flames. Villages burned one after another, and towering Highland Tribe warriors clutched their wives and children, leaping desperately to escape. Yet, they could not outrun the collapsing ravines that opened beneath them, swallowing them whole into eternal darkness. On the distant plains, two mighty beings fought to the death.

Chapter Thirteen: Sister of Ash The sky had turned a deep, smoky gray, as though the heavens themselves mourned what was awakening beneath the soil. Seren stood at the edge of the crater, surrounded by the wreckage of her birthright and the screams of the cursed tree that once marked Black Hollow’s sacred heart. Her robes—dark blue with silver embroidery—fluttered with energy. She hadn’t aged past her early twenties, her presence defying time, her expression carved from stone.

Right after posting it, while I was still reading comments mocking me for putting on a tough front, I saw Immortal Ashes Team’s official account tag me in a post, openly standing by my side. "The crowd follows the herd. The strong walk alone. Those who don’t know how to cherish what they have will lose it. Ash Mercer, we stand with you. IA will always be your strongest backing."

As if she had already chosen the world she wanted to live in. I rose. My knees left prints in the mud, half filled by the river’s edge. When I stood, the cold air pulled me back into myself. The moon trembled across the surface, broken by current. The ash began to move downstream, slow and gleaming, as if the river itself was carrying the dead toward whatever waited for them. I turned away and followed the sound of fire rising in the distance. Kael (POV) The ash came first.

Captive V Third Person’s POV The cobblestone path that appeared is gleaming like the emerald green jade, and the water reflected on it beautifully like the depths of the seas. Asha’s mood lifted up at the sight of this familiar scenery. The joyful and carefree memories of her childhood flashed in her mind accompanied by the ringing laughter in her ears. Such an illusion feels so real and uplifting, and Asha’s smiled curved up the corner of her eyes like small crescents which completely captured Samel’s hearts. “It’s great to always smile.”

she rasped. Liora’s tears hit the dirt. “I know.” Ashen tried to smile. “Too late now.” Suddenly the ground around them opened not into cracks or fire, but into narratives, Half-told stories flooded out like rivers: A soldier who never returned from war, finally finding peace, A wolf spirit who had loved a human girl but never said the words.

Mae stood at a crossroads, two branching paths. One, filled with ash and ruin. Everyone she’d come to care about, dead. She stood alone. Eternally alive. The last heartbeat in a dead cosmos. The other, bright and raw and filled with conflict, but also hope. Rebuilding. Healing. Love. In that path, Ashar stood beside her, worn but whole, protective, hers. So did Riven, half smirking, half undone, holding a small child who laughed like a sun reborn.

My chest felt heavy, like every heartbeat was dragging me closer to a choice I didn’t want to make. Then Knox stepped forward. “We can’t wait. They’re laughing at us and we won't have that.” His gaze slid to me. “Unless someone here wants to talk peace.” I met his eyes. “I want to think before I bury another brother.” “Thinking doesn’t stop bullets,” he shot back. “You gonna write them a letter, Ash? Ask them nicely not to kill us?” A few brothers snickered, uneasy laughter mixing with anger. Griff slammed his fist down. “Enough! Ash, you in or out?”