Flames Novel Novels & Stories

The Flame was gone, but its whisper lingered, soft and cold, a single word: Again. The world was theirs. But the fire was not done. And from the horizon, a new light rose, not gold, not white, but red, pulsing with a hunger that knew their names, their choices, their everything.

Just a charcoal-gray folder, cracked and frayed. I opened it slowly. Inside were pages written by hand. No type. No digital print. And at the top, a familiar signature: Selene Reyes. Journal Entry – The Night I Chose Flame. > _“They said the Flame is too wild to live. That the Matron bond makes us dangerous. But I know the truth now. The bond is not madness. It is mourning. It is the scream of our wolves denied their song. I chose the fire not because I was broken. But because I refused to burn alone.

Scales shimmered down his arms, his teeth lengthened, and fire licked between his lips. Someone yelled. Someone else cheered. And then the globe burst in flames. The fire roared toward me like a live thing, gold and scarlet, filling my eyes. Heat surged into me with furious forceI threw my arms up, braced for anguish, for my flesh to blister and burn. But the ache never arrived. I opened my eyes. The flames curled about me, dancing down my arms, my hair, my body… yet not scorching. Not even aching. It seemed like the flames knew me, sliding over my skin like liquid light, warm but secure.

The luxurious, pristine white manor was now shrouded in thick smoke as it was engulfed by flames. I threw away the key, tore off the necklace around my neck, and threw it into the fire. Then, listening to the roaring flames behind me, I left the villa where I had grown up. I thought, 'Atlas, let's never meet again.'

It hasn’t rained in at least a week, the forest is very dry. For a moment the flames dance in a way that makes me think they are trying to tell a story. I shake my head but the flames continue to form the shape of people. Suddenly the people begin the run from a darkness that makes the flames disappear for a moment. What is going on? The smoke fills my lungs and I begin to gasp for air. I look up, the smoke in the sky is black and thick. The smell of burnt pine is making it hard to breathe.

Ember is dressed in fire-forged armor, standing over my chained body. “You were always too soft, Bastion.” She says. “Too foolish and self-centered to see what I really needed.” The same man stands behind her, arms folded, looking like a muscle-bound god. “You want me to kill him, Flame?” She smiles “No. let him rot. He was never worth my time.” The vision faded and I screamed, not out loud, my dry throat couldn’t handle it. But inside, where it counts. Where she wants it to hurt.

A fox man releases thy soul of the red flame royalties, a lone man releases thy soul of the black flame royalty and the green flame royalty releases thy soul of the once beholder of thy flames. Niffa was confused, furrowed, and felt a little longing to seek more. The book’s context was perplexing and too old from the way it was written and the way the writer tells. Rico was confused as well, he knew that the green flame holder was Niffa, but what about the once beholder that the book is talking about? They continued reading the next page, it says,

When they finally crawled ashore, Owen looked at me pitifully and asked if I remembered anything. When I shook my head, disappointment filled his eyes. Still, he said, "It's okay. I'll keep trying to help you remember." He brought me roses every day, saying that they were my favorite flowers. But I didn't care. The sight of that bright red color only made me feel disgusted. He also brought me an embroidered wedding dress, saying that it was a gift from my mentor. Apparently, I had worn it for him once before, and he had been completely captivated.

Her breath trembled as something inside her cracked—not with breaking, but with release. She closed her eyes, drawing the wildfire closer, not to crush it, not to run—but to face it. The whispers tore at her, but she pushed back with her own voice, raw and burning: “I am not your kindling. I am not your ruin. I am flame, and flame is mine to carry.” The wildfire shuddered, sparks bursting outward like a thousand tiny stars. The dark edges burned away, leaving only fierce, golden light that wrapped around her like a mantle.

Flame said and looked at Cisco. She smiled sadly. "This look on your face.. That's what I was so scared of seeing. What now? You're going to hate me just like everyone hates Amour huh? You're gonna judge me too? All my whole life the only thing I was thought was how to kill, how am I supposed to act like all girls do? How am I supposed to love you like other girls will do when I don't even know how to love myself" Flame spoke as tears poured down her cheek. "How-"