Romans & histoires Burning Ashes

“Ashen is a name. Not a fire.” I clenched my fists. “I don’t need fire to be me.” The flames roared. “Then why do you burn?” My heart jumped. “Because you’re part of me.” Ateron tilted his head, flames bending with him. “Part. But not whole.” “No,” I said. “I’m the whole. You’re a piece.” The flames surged— not attacking— reacting. Grayson shouted, “ASHEN, DO NOT STEP BACK!” I didn’t.

There was a loud crash, which scared everyone there. My ashes scattered everywhere. Jasper still felt angry. He laughed disdainfully and stepped on my ashes, grinding them with the sole of his shoe. The staff members' jaws had dropped in shock. They hadn't even had time to stop him. Jasper kicked my ashes and sent them flying. "Tell Amara that she came up with a very innovative trick this time round, but it's lame. I'm not going to waver at all, no matter whether she's dead or alive!

Simon had used the company's Facebook account to publicly post a photo of the blue fireworks display, tagging her. "Happy fifth anniversary, my love. I will love you forever." Within less than a minute, the post garnered over a thousand comments. "I'm so envious! I was wondering why Lake City had an hour-long blue fireworks show tonight. It was Mr. Fulmer's surprise for Mrs. Fulmer after all!" "Five years of marriage and Mr. Fulmer's declarations of love are still this grand."

She had done everything she came to do. And then she had stood at the window looking out at the Brooklyn rooftop and she had felt — not grief, exactly. Not guilt, which she had already addressed and which had been received with a generosity she had not deserved and which she tried to honor by not revisiting it unnecessarily. Something smaller than grief and larger than nostalgia. The specific feeling of standing at the edge of something that is entirely right and recognizing that you are glad it is right, and that the gladness costs something you are willing to pay.

He let his mind drift through old memories. The next day, dressed in nothing but a white dress shirt and black slacks, Cole was finally discovered by the cemetery's security staff. His face had gone dark from the cold, but there was a faint smile at the corner of his lips. Snow drifted down from the sky in thin, scattered flakes. Cole had frozen to death. He'd died at the side of the grave marked, "In loving memory of Isabel Cavendish, my beloved wife."

The clubhouse was behind him… burning. My breath caught and my world instantly tilt. Then another message followed: “You chose wrong.” For a second, everything inside me froze. Then adrenaline rushed through me. I was scared and angry. “Noah…” I whispered. “What?” he asked, frowning. But I didn’t answer, I was already running. By the time I got to the compound, flames were tearing through the roof. The sky glowed orange, thick with smoke. Sirens wailed in the distance, echoing off the concrete walls. Brothers shouted, coughing, dragging bodies out into the yard.

“Not you.” I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t move, I couldn’t think. Cameras flashed as whispers exploded. Miranda made a choked sound and grabbed her purse. Zane never looked away from me. And just like that, in front of the entire room, he burned every bridge behind us and set the world on fire.

gamma Nash said. I clenched my teeth. It was then I understood why Zeve burned the bodies of ultimas to ashes and not buried them. I let out an exasperated sigh, shutting my eyes. Those flames. I looked at Zeve’s wavering silhouette as the flames danced beyond it. Let those flames set your heart in vengeance, Zeve. Let it burn your soul until you turn your enemy into ashes. Let everything you are feeling right now imbibe in your deepest and darkest corners. Let the pain make you stronger.

By dusk, we had finished the arrangements for the funeral procession. Surrounded by a ring of massive stones, Caspian set the remains ablaze, murmuring an ancient dirge to honor the fallen. I joined him, our voices low as we watched the fire reduce the bodies to ash. Not a single man had been left whole; they were torn to shreds, ripped apart like paper.

He throws it on top of the ashes, lights a match, and throws it down. This one doesn’t reduce to ashes, though. It continues to burn and I’m not sure what we can do to make this process faster. “Kendric, what are we going to do? We can’t stay here too long.” He tosses me a glance over his shoulder, then moves the ashes and the body into the water. I watch as the burned body floats down the stream and the ashes dissolve on impact. Then, the body sinks, and the flames go out. Several seconds pass before I realize the body is floating down the calm stream under water.