Cinders Ashes Novels & Stories

If I was Mira, I would be strong. I held the remaining bandage in my hands and walked down the hallway. Like they say, bad news is the first to spread like wildfire. In no less than an hour, the maids already start to whisper, guards started to murmur, eyes scanning the area as they peeped to see if anyone out of their checks could hear them. But I walked silently past them. Like I hadn't heard anything, as if I was just a fly. The missing golds, the ships and now Alpha Darius’ empire was about to be doubted?

And the names that had burned across the world Bianca Ashford, Ash were gone, presumed dead. Yet the ashes never lie. From a crumbling rooftop, a figure descended with unnatural grace. Charred black coat clinging to her, hair tangled, eyes molten gold, she moved like a shadow. Bianca. She paused at the edge of the cathedral ruin, surveying the wreckage with the cold precision of a strategist. The ground was littered with twisted steel and glass. Her gloved hand brushed against a piece of melted obsidian, the mark of Ash, scorched into its surface.

Something deliberate. I leaned forward. “And the general?” The soldier trembled. “Ashes , Your Majesty.” A hush swept the hall. Burned wasn’t unusual. But he didn’t stop there. “And his ashes… were taken.” The hall’s silence transformed into shock. Even I felt my body go still. Ashes taken? Wolves do not touch vampire ashes. They hate us, yes. They kill us when they can—yes. But they leave the ashes untouched. Because they know what vampire ashes mean. They only move ashes when they're trying to cover up the scene for the pathetic humans.

I snapped, pushing past her to open the window wider. “Asphyxia. That's the medical term that covers the entire…concept of suffocation. Just so you know, you know. But it's not like I was trying to kill you, or me. We're too young, and I'm incapable of murder, you know that. I've only ever killed geckos since I was born…” She rambled, trailing off when she saw my death stare. I admit, I was more pissed at the fact that her charred whatever woke me up from my dream. I wished I heard everything my father had to say, but unfortunately, I got woken up abruptly.

to me. A salty breeze drifted in through the half-open window, carrying the scent of the sea. In this unfamiliar city, the past slowly blurred, fading into the distance. It turns out, even the deepest love and the fiercest hatred will eventually be worn down by time into nothing but a sigh. But some sighs come far too late. Outside the window, snowflakes fell in silence, like shattered stardust scattered by fate, lighting the road that led me to my new life. The End

“Now we quit letting them write the story for us.” Lucien nods. “We get it all down. The fire. The church. Gideon's part. Elias cleaning up after.” “And the silver?” Ruby asks. I shake my head. “Not yet. They'll twist it into ghost stories or crazy talk.” “Strategic delay advised,” the silver agrees. Outside, Hallowpine starts waking up. Engines cough. Doors bang. Same winter morning routine. They have no idea the mirror's already cracked. They have no idea the thing they were afraid of isn't here to punish anybody.

Each pulse of her footsteps sent a shimmer of life through them, and some of them glowed faintly as she passed. When she finally emerged into a chamber, it was not what she expected. The Cradle of Cinders was not a place of rage or fury. It was a nursery. Warm. Silent. Sacred. A great sphere of fire floated at the center, beating like a heart. Around it, hundreds of small figures slept in embryonic shells of molten crystal—spirits, or perhaps ancestors, not yet reborn. And beside the fire stood a figure cloaked in obsidian robes, their face hidden.

she confessed, still crying and shaking with fear, and I could feel she was telling the truth. "What can you tell us about the ash?" I asked her, and she bowed her head. "At first, it was meant to cover the atmosphere, but we later found it was feeding off the life of the earth and every living thing. Now they have released new ash that, if inhaled for too long, the victims will turn into those things. It is not only wolves that the Fire and Ash coven is killing, witches too," she said. I stepped away from her and left her crying and shaking on the floor. I looked at Desiree to see if she believed her. Desiree nodded that the girl was being sincere, and I pinched the bridge of my nose out of