Novel & Cerita Fantasy Of Grimgar And Ash

The fae realm. Or what’s left of it. Fire stretches across the horizon, devouring structures that look like they were never meant to fall, twisting towers of stone and magic collapsing in on themselves as the sky above fractures with something unnatural, something violent, something that doesn’t belong in any world meant to survive. Screams echo. Not human. Not wolf. Something older. Something powerful. Something dying. My chest tightens as I turn, trying to take it in, trying to understand what I’m seeing, but there’s too much—

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.

“We were the last to speak her name. The last to keep balance.” Her chest tightened. The air trembled around her, carrying the weight of countless echoes. It wasn’t madness. It was memory, woven into the stone itself. She closed her eyes and let the voices come. Visions flickered behind her lids: monks kneeling in the courtyard, their faces lifted toward the dawn as silver light poured from the sigil. A hand, her hand or perhaps Equinox’s, reaching out to still the flames. Then screams, steel, the sound of chains breaking.

It was then my eyes flickered to Kai's shoulders, wrapped heavily with bandages or clothes I couldn't see but showed like a shoulder pad inside his clothes. “Go!” I instructed, once he did. I only staggered backwards, I knew my chamber seat was just a few inches apart from me and I wanted to reach it as I trembled but I was too weak. Too weak to reach it that I tripped over the floor, my lips almost touching the cold floor. I knew who.. or maybe I thought too far. It could just be coincidence, I had tried to help myself but my mind still stood on the same thought. In this village, there were only two. A grandfather and his grandson who worked evil magic.

Then, abruptly, the trees fell away. They stepped out onto a wide shelf of black stone at the base of the spire. Up close it was even larger than it had seemed from the ridge — a jagged tower erupting from the earth, its surface veined with glowing sigils that writhed slowly like living script. The silver-veined forest ended at its edge as if cut with a knife. Ava’s breath caught. “This is it.” The token flared against her ribs, a steady burn that was almost pain. The whisper filled her head, clearer than ever: Daughter of ash. Come.

Glowing magical threads emerged from her ear, twisted around themselves, and formed a small sphere. It was the memory of the dream, and another memory about Zane. The stranger closed his hand around the memory and destroyed it. Lila’s body jerked for a moment, then went still.

Familiar in the way a half-remembered nightmare is familiar. “Something’s here,” I say. “Or it was. Recently.” Cain’s attention snaps to full focus, silver eyes sharpening. “You’re sure.” “Unfortunately,” I reply. “It feels like old ash. Like magic that should’ve burned out—and just… didn’t.” Ashton’s wolf stirs, uneasy, pushing against his skin. “That doesn’t exist.” I look at him flatly. “I do.” Silence slams down hard enough to echo.

"I used to imagine all sorts of things. My mother used to tell me that I let my imagination run too wild." It's true, she did. But she never meant it in a hurtful way. A smile tugs at my lips. "I wanted a phoenix for awhile." Professor Starling raises an eyebrow. "Oh?" "But then I decided risking my bonded burning me alive wasn't worth it. Then I wanted a gryphon." "What changed?" she asks. I glance at the direwolves running with their bondeds. I wonder how it feels to have something, anything, that devoted to you. I can't help but feel envious, because I will never have that.