Novelas y relatos de City Of Ember

The night went still again. Ember stood there for a long moment,cold and shaking, feeling all the rises from her skin, she pressed her hand against the window glass. Recalling the words again “He’s not gone”. The words echoed in her head over and over until her pulse began to hit painfully against her ribs. When she finally lay herself down, she didn’t realize she was crying until she tasted salt from her middle lips. Darius’s POV

Ember's POV When I woke, the world was wet stone and cold iron. My arms were stretched above my head, chains biting into my wrists until my skin burned. The air shimmered faint blue, alive with whispers that hummed against my bones. Every breath I took tasted like metal and ash. My disguise was gone....no bandages, no cloak, no voice to hide behind. Just me. Ember. And the truth I’d spent months burying.

I wondered if she could see my fear or maybe she just didn’t care. Finally, she said, “Then follow.” They led us deeper into the city. Emberdeep was no ruin. Its streets were paved with black obsidian, worn smooth by centuries of passage. Heat radiated from the walls, not suffocating, but constant like walking inside a forge. Shadows moved behind molten glass windows. Children, elders, warriors. A hidden people, sustained by flame and secrecy. We passed beneath vast archways carved with fire-language, the old tongue. I caught pieces—warnings, prayers, fragments of ancient prophecy.

“Oh, I don’t think so. See, strangers passing through my city? That costs extra.” Ember bristled beside me. “Your city? Looks more like a graveyard.” Kade’s gaze flicked to her again, amusement dancing in his eyes. “And what are you, little phoenix? The one lighting the way?” The air grew heavier, the tension coiling tighter. “Enough,” I said, stepping in front of Ember. “We’re just passing through. Take what you want, and we’ll be gone.” Kade’s smile faded, replaced by something colder.

I found it highly interesting, almost amusing, that Ember’s city best friend was sharing the exact same name as the broken factory worker I had left behind in the dirt. Before I could even formulate a response or change into a fresh shirt, Ember was already moving. She grabbed my wrist with a fierce, unyielding grip, her golden eyes flashing with pure excitement as she began pulling me down the long, carpeted hallway of the residential wing, taking me directly toward Amaris’s room. When we finally got to Amaris’s door, Ember didn't hesitate. She knocked sharply against the heavy mahogany wood, calling out into the quiet space. “Ama! Open up, I have someone you need to meet right now!”

The more she learned, the worse it seemed. “It is elegant,” she admitted one night. “Whoever created this knew exactly what they were doing. They wanted to erase us without killing us.” Three months later, half a million people were infected. Then Ember caught the plague. She woke one morning confused and frightened. “Who am I?” she asked the attendants. “You are Ember. Leader of Sanctuary.” “I do not remember that.” The attendants tried explaining her life, her achievements, her beliefs. But Ember looked at them with suspicion.

Smaller cabins scattered around it, each one with glass ceilings for watching the aurora. An artificially heated spring sat at the center of it all, steam curling lazily into the arctic air — imported warmth in a place that had none. Everything pristine and perfect and obscenely intentional. Ember turns to me, eyes bright, and she’s smiling — actually smiling — and I’d burn the whole world down to keep that expression on her face. “You look like a child on Christmas,” I tell her. Ember doesn’t look at me. Still taking it all in, eyes moving slowly across the landscape like she has never seen anything quite like it before.

Leo asked. I thought about the fire that had broken through my binding, the ancient fury that had opened its eyes inside me and refused to be extinguished. I thought about Marcus, out there somewhere, still burning with whatever twisted rage drove him, and about how different that kind of fire was from what I wanted to build here. "Ember House," I said slowly, testing the words. "Because an ember isn't the destructive part of a fire. It's what's left after everything burns down — small, but still warm. Still alive. Still capable of starting something new if you're patient with it."

2000's Trigger Warning: Graphic Sexual Content Looking out the window of our new Dodge Neon, I notice all the little details as the world drifts by, I see little kids playing soccer at the local park. of course, they are playing with empty soda cans marking the goal lines. This doesn’t bother them. it's how it always has been. As kids growing up in poverty, we used what we have.

The thumping of hooves soon announced they had returned and Karl and his men stood from their campfires. A mercenary rode straight to Karl, dismounted, and handed him his report. Karl read the report with the glow of the fire, and he smiled. He expected all enemies of Strongfall to close their gates. The notorious private army called the Night Witch was in the south. It was enough to spark fear. "Let's go into the city," Karl ordered. Men mounted their horses, and others moved to put out the campfires. The gates opened to them, and they rode into the city.