From The Embers Novels & Stories

A woman’s voice, gentle and raw, whispering as his newborn body burned with unnatural fire: “Ix vel’ara zha. Kai thrak’eth nex ix, ix-lir kharuun.” “I love you… be strong for me, my little warrior.” His mother’s final gift. The Shadow Queen. Her death hadn’t been for nothing. And now, after all this time, he wasn’t the only one marked by that place. Not the only one broken… or built for more. He closed the file gently, rage and clarity thrumming beneath his skin. His flame danced wilder, answering the beast inside him.

Emerald takes my hand in hers and squeezes it, "I know you want revenge, but right now, finish. Tell me what they did. Focus on having your son back and how much you love him. Can tell they aren't dead but paint the picture in your head that they are." 'Throats ripped out. Intestines were all over the ground, and every limp was ripped from their body. Sounds damn good to me.' Blaze is sleazing, foaming at the mouth, ready to do that. But Emerald, that girl could hail a tornado with just her words, her touch, and again those eyes.

The fragment glows, starlight flooding the storm, its black-star chaos weakening, but the reborn world trembles, keepers stirring in the distance. The vale collapses, silver forests twisting, the reborn world destabilizing. Elara’s essence pulses faintly, her whisper soft, Child, my heart fights. The group stands, their auras dim but resolute—Cassia’s fire, Renn’s loyalty, Maddox’s hope, Sylvara’s resolve, Lysara’s redemption, Zorath’s spark, Valthor’s unity, Lirien’s defiance, Theryn’s grief, Kael’s void—a united flame. The reborn world pulses, a new rift forming—The fragments remain. With the void-storm weakened and Elara’s essence tainted, I face a quest that will forge our legacy.

Ashborn crucified in mirrors. Sirelia smiling with no mouth. And the God Below whispering, “Reflection is the first betrayal.” She stumbles back. The vision fades. But her palm still smokes. Later that night, Emberhold holds silence. Not mourning. Listening. Because something in the fire has changed. And not all the dead are resting. Not anymore.

About Ember. The air itself seemed alive with laughter, clinking cups, and the hum of voices weaving together like music. My nose twitched as wave after wave of aromas reached me—roasted meats, fresh bread, honeyed fruits, and spiced wine. Ember stirred within me at once, pressing against my consciousness, her excitement flooding me like sparks dancing along my skin. Meat, she purred, her hunger mixing with mine until I almost laughed aloud.

“She wouldn’t hurt Angelica, would she? I mean, she’s just a child. She can’t possibly understand everything that’s going on.” Ember didn’t answer my question right away. She held out her hand and blew softly into her palm. A small ball of flame sputtered to life, illuminating where we stood in the darkness. The light flickered and waned, dancing as its casted shadows along Ember’s high cheekbones and plump lips.

She scrambled out of bed and frantically turned on the lampshade on her nightstand. “Oh, damn!” Ember winced as she inspected her palm which was almost charred. She remembered the explosion. She was almost hit by the flying debris from the fire. “What happened?” She asked herself. She was still breathing hard and her heart was beating crazy. “That wasn’t a dream.” Ember knew that fire was real and she was there. The creature was real. She looked outside the window and she couldn’t smell any smoke. There’s no fire but why was her palm burned? Where did she get it?

The Keeper’s Ember pulsed gently at her side. “This fire,” she said softly, “has passed through hands bloodied by war, cracked by grief, and strengthened by love.” She looked from face to face. “But now, it passes into yours.” One by one, she approached the carriers, touching the orb gently to their flames. Each ember grew—not with force, but with resonance, a subtle harmony of light and memory. When she reached the final carrier, a boy no older than twelve from the Southern Caverns, he leaned forward and whispered, “I will remember you.”

Alpha Cyrus drew his sword from his sheath. My heart was beating, I couldn't die like this. Not now, not here, I had a whole life in front of me. I crawled backward slowly and the guard held me steady. "I find you, Hope Embers, guilty of treason and I hereby sentence you to death by beheading under the full moon in two days time." My heart fell to the pit of my stomach.

I didn’t care if I got a little burned along the way, I could heal. As I stepped through the fire, I noticed I could feel the heat but the flames wouldn’t touch me. I quickly made my way to Ember. I found her in the courtyard, crumbled to the ground as she cried. I knelt beside her and touched her skin with my hands. I could feel the sparks so I knew she could too. She looked at me and quickly let her energy die down. I wrapped her up in a tight hug as she continued to cry. Her face was soaked in tears. "I wasn't here to save them," she cried.