Burning Cinders Novels & Stories

She said in awe. "Yeah…" I agreed, understanding it better. "You're right." "There we have it!" Cinder appeared holding a big leather book. "Zel didn't destroy the house, thank goodness and I found a book about your artifact, dear Maxine." Cinder took a seat opposite us, setting the large book on the table. Zel scurried closer, sitting on the cushion near the table and I mirrored her. "Why are you still here and not wandering off?" Cinder asked her.

Damien "Only dahlias," I said into the phone, balancing it between my shoulder and cheek while flipping through a file. “Dark red. The kind that looks almost black in certain light. No fillers, no roses, no distractions. Just them.” The florist on the other end hesitated. “Would you like to include a card, Mr. von Adler?” I stared out the floor-to-ceiling window of my office. The skyline was pale today, dipped in soft grey, like the city itself was holding its breath.

Cassius's voice came from inside. "Nothing," I said, watching the flames. "Just some—" "Useless junk." He stepped into the yard. Thick black smoke twisted upward, carrying the acrid scent of burnt fabric. His brow furrowed as his Alpha aura subtly cooled the air. "Must it be burned?" he asked, calm but measured. "Couldn't it just be thrown away?" I didn't turn. "Burning it is cleaner," I said flatly. He said nothing more, narrowing his eyes.

The Great Forge of the Cinder-Pack was not a room; it was the throat of the world. Massive basalt pillars, carved with the history of a thousand forgotten wars, reached toward a ceiling lost in a haze of orange steam and floating embers. In the center, a lake of white-hot magma bubbled, channeled into narrow stone veins that fed the anvils of the Cinder-smiths. The sound was a rhythmic, bone-shaking thrum—the heartbeat of the earth itself, amplified by a hundred hammers striking in perfect unison.

They stared at the burning compound, the sky glowing orange. Cassiel flicked the cigarette to the ground, crushing it beneath his boot. “Let’s go home.”

Sie called, stepping out from behind the oak’s broad trunk. “Indeed,” Cyrus said, slipping an arm around my waist. “Indeed we do.” We made quick work of burning the body. Flames crackled and danced, heat blooming into the cold winter sky. The wilted body turned to ash beneath the blue-gold fire of the driftwood, stirring softly in the breeze. “Have you given it any more thought?” Sierra asked quietly, keeping her gaze fixed on the dying flames. “Hm?” “Our theory. You know.” “Oh.”

Her cries pierced the night sky and the fire spread like a wildfire ensuing on cold harmattan morning. "No... No..." Candice screamed with distraught. She muttered every spell she could commit to memory to stop the flames from spreading but it was all futile. Her eyes glazed beige as the fire licked around her and continued to spread. She wanted to run. She really did but dread engulfed her as the truth settled in. Candice ran at the burning bodies, screeching as the fire singed her hair, skin, and blood. It hurt, it burned but nothing seemed to make sense in Candice's world as she dug her fingers into the hot gummy flesh of the relics she was so close to harvesting.

“It’s time for the demons to overthrow the dragons and claim our rightful place as the most powerful race known to the supernatural world.” “I would venture to say the information you got from your source about a so-called “new flame” isn’t true?” Cinder sat back down on his throne. “Does anyone even know where the flames are merging?” Cinder looked lost in thought as he rested his chin on his palm. “That’s what I thought. The demons are getting worked up over nothing most likely.”

A fire is crackling there, fighting the damp chill of the sea air. I throw the box in. It lands on the logs. The white cardboard begins to brown. The tissue paper curls. Then the lace catches. It doesn't burn like normal fabric. It flares. Green and blue flames lick up the chimney. The smell of burning chemicals fills the room, sharp and acrid, choking out the smell of old books. Ciro coughs, covering his mouth with his arm. I don't move. I watch it burn. I watch the white turn to black ash.

"Their leader—I saw her. A woman, dark-haired, beautiful. She's not here." "Lilith?" "Not Lilith. Someone else. Someone working for her." Caspian's voice was grim. "This feels like a probe. Like they're testing us." Lena's blood ran cold. "Then this is just a distraction." "A distraction from what?" --- The answer came too fast. Fire. Behind them, the camp erupted in flames. Lena spun, her heart stopping. The shelters—the hybrid cabins—the *children*—all of it burning. Orange and red consumed the homes they'd worked so hard to build. Black smoke rose against the darkening sky. And through it all, she could hear screaming.