From Sand And Ash Novels & Stories

The sky darkens as if ash had found it too. Below, his laughter climbs—ruptured, furious, exultant. The pulse hammers through it, reminding even him: freedom is not a rule. --- POV: Ashmouth The world shakes. Chains lie in glowing shards, sinking into ash. My body is ruin—torn, bleeding, luminous. My laughter is ragged but alive. I lift my head. Shadows climb with me. Skulls orbit. Solara quakes; bells toll without hands. I grin through blood and ash.

Ash ponders, his fingers crawling over Alex neck. "I mean, we could try-" There's sudden laughter in the distance, but close enough to hear, and they turn to see where it's coming from. There's a group of people, still far away enough to stay undetected, but coming closer. Ash sighs disappointedly, and pushes Alex back to sit up. "Guess we won't find out today." Not that it really matters, and finding sand inside his shorts even now, makes him think whatever Alex read might very well be true. It's not a pleasant feeling, and his whole backside is covered in sand, too.

Astrapi was shouting something at her, but she could not hear him over the sound of the sandstorm. Her ears were filled with the shifting, sighing sand that felt as if it coated every inch of her. Beneath her scarf she licked her lips and her tongue came away coated with it. So far, Menos was more like the City of Sand than the City of Earth. Astrapi was still shouting and she turned her head, to see him, irritated as the tiniest exposed parts of her skin were strafed. He was holding up his arm and pointing at it.

When she finally broke through the dirt, heaving for breath, the cool mountain air seared her lungs as she coughed out dirt. Kira sat there for several long minutes, half in and half out of a grave, no one else in sight, the forest surrounding her impossible to see in the dark. “Fuck,” Kira coughed, tiredly shoving at the dirt covering her legs, trying to free them. She brushed dirty fingers against the tear in her neck, wincing at the sting. It was probably a mess of infection right now, but oh well. It would heal. Probably. Kira crawled out of her grave and lay down beside it, staring up at what she could see of the sky through the inky tree branches blotting out most of it.

The rest of the group follows as we make our way closer to the fire. She reaches for an a piece of ember bark that sits in a bowl near the fire. Lyra takes a deep breath, and throws the ember bark into the fire. "I'm afraid I will never be enough." she says so softly I almost don't hear her. The ember bark burns so brightly I have to look away. My gaze collides with Callan who has a blonde sitting comfortably on his lap. Something ugly burns in my stomach. I force myself to look away, and direct my attention back to the fire. My thoughts begin to spin as I try to settle on what fear I'm going to give up.

Cassian replied him and then moved his eyes to look at Maximus who stared at Julianne like he wanted something from her. “Who is she?” Maximus asked and Julianne looked at him. Not they? She thought and looked behind her to be sure if Marianne was still with her. She moved her eyes back to Cassian and heard him say; “Ash. She’s a newbie.” “It’s Julianne,” she made herself clear and got a grin from Cassian. “Or could be Jules,” the other one said. Funny! Julianne rolled her eyes at the back of her mind. Marianne tugged at Julianne’s cloth again and Julianne asked Cassian, “Where is it?”

She went to stand at the railing and look at the thing she was waiting for. They spent the day at the beach, which was both simple and complete — the way good days were simple and complete, the sequence of it not requiring planning or management. Lyra's sand project was elaborate and technically interesting and involved a drainage system she had designed based on principles she described to her father with the vocabulary she had absorbed from a year of watching him talk about structures. He engaged with it as a genuine problem, not as a child's play, which was the quality she required from him and that he had understood how to provide.

After all, they had seen Gordon in action—he was a walking nightmare in combat. As they turned to leave, Aspen's eyes instinctively swept across the ground one last time. Then, she noticed a patch of mud—dark, slick, and oddly rotted. The putrid smell hit her nostrils a second later, making her stomach churn. The mud looked more like decomposing flesh than ordinary soil. Her gaze locked on a small object sticking out of the foul mess. It glinted faintly under the dim light. Aspen crouched, swallowing the bile rising in her throat, and picked it up. It was a jagged piece of metal. The second it touched her palm, the locator in her pocket beeped frantically.

he said, and after a while, I heard him calling Conrad. "What is it, buddy?" Conrad asked enthusiastically, eager to hear what Asher had to say. "Did you know that sand can exhibit interesting phenomena, like 'singing sand' or 'booming dunes'? Certain types of sand produce sounds when grains rub against each other or when the wind passes through the dunes," Asher shared, leaving Conrad momentarily speechless. I covered my mouth to stifle my laughter. Conrad glanced at me, his eyebrows furrowed. "Did he start reading encyclopedias at one year old?" he asked, his forehead creased.

I don't know what I've done to deserve to stand here right now. Xavier grabs my hand, pulling me behind him, as he begins to walk through the forest. We come across a clearing, and a moment later, I find myself walking out onto a secluded white sand beach. The water is a clear aqua colour, and in the distance I can see the mountains. This must've been the view that I saw from my window. Little did I know that there was a private beach nearby. Instinctively I take my shoes off, running my feet through the sand. It feels warm and soft beneath my feet. Carrying my shoes, I walk towards the water, stepping in up to my calves. The water is warm, though still cool. It's nice and relaxing on such a