Fresh Wind Fresh Fire Novels & Stories

As if to contrast the mental explosion in Tiffany’s mind, booming fireworks had taken the sky in a dazzling, brilliant display, adorning the night with fiery blooms signifying the turn of a new beginning. The fireworks would eventually die. But the beautiful blessings life gives will never end—for they are sempiternal.

I also appreciate honest critics as well. I promise that when I’m back, you’ll have a far more adventurous writing of Fire on Fire Book 2: ELIJAH. Thank you guys so much. Happy holidays!

Whatever that was. Suddenly, the wind picked up from the scorching heat of my my body to icy, sweet coldness. A wave of crisp air that was oddly and refreshingly cool kissed the once hot surface of my round face, and I sighed in relief, thanking the sky above for answering my prayers and subsiding my fire.

Aise zaroori ho mujko tum Jaise hawaayein saanson ko (You are necessary for me like the air for breathing) Aise talaashoon main tumko Jaise ki paer zameeno ko (I keep searching for you like feet search for the ground) Hansna ya rona ho mujhe Paagal sa dhundun main tumhein (Whether I need to laugh or cry. I search for you like someone gone crazy) Kal mujhse mahabbat ho na ho Kal mujhko ijaazaat ho na ho

... A phone call almost got me killed in a fire. I burst out of the flames, clutching a terrified cat. Outside, beside the geared-up firefighters, there were a bunch of familiar faces. They laughed, calling me the ultimate simp. Leading the pack was none other than my childhood friend, Colin Porter. He had called me an hour ago, claiming he was dying in a fire. Now he was unscathed, spotless. I realized this was just another prank of his.

Before going to bed, I took my diary and wrote down a quote from Lise Kiberwa's poetry collection called "Wind", Completely for no reason at all!: >>Like the wind, I don't want to belong anywhere. Just like the wind, I want to be felt but not seen. Like the wind, I want to both strengthen and extinguish the wildfire. Like the wind, I want to stress some poor old lady gently sweeping her compound by bringing all the dirt she's been removing.

The wound closed instantly. "He regenerates!" Wesley exclaimed. The giant laughed. "You cannot kill fire." A wall of flames erupted around us. The heat became unbearable. My wolf stirred within me. "Moonfire," she whispered. "Use the Moonfire." I raised the Sword of Eclipse. Silver flames ignited along its blade. Unlike ordinary fire, the Moonfire felt cool and serene. I swung the sword. A crescent of silver fire tore through the blazing inferno. The General of Ash staggered backward as the Moonfire burned across his armor.

Fire said. The Fire Element slipped through the small hole in the wind prison, which closed soon after. There was a sudden blinding flash of blue light as blue fire engulfed and burnt all the black mist. As soon as the God’s Fire touched the wind prison's wall it disappeared. The Fire and Air Element departed as soon as Jamie thanked them. “Noooo! How is it possible? You have no Fire or Air Elemental users that strong!” Nervinda screamed. She turned to Jamie before saying, “It is you isn’t it? You little slut! Who are you?

The clearing still smoldered, as if the forest itself hadn’t quite decided whether to breathe again. There was death as far as she could stare. And she was the one who took life out of this forest. Ash clung to the air in pale, ghostly swirls, rising from the charred earth around her like reluctant spirits. Freya pushed herself up with arms that trembled like wind-warped branches, the bark at her back still warm, too warm from the fire she’d unleashed. Her own fire. Untamed. Furious. Alive.

Being able to turn it into that wide and flaming gyre… Man, but that had been cool. And it had felt good and right, singing through my body. After all, that’s how I had been able to move it around. A little wind ripples through the little square clearing now as I remember what it had been like when the fire danced along with me, moving as I moved. The wind moves towards the fire, which seems to reach for it, eager for the fresh oxygen that it brings. I smile when the wind plays with the tendrils of fire, letting them grow a little, pulling it towards the sky.