Green Ember Series の小説・ストーリー

I saw myself at the edge of nowhere beneath a very odd tree. White leaves were falling from it that gave me an eerie sensation. I was like inside a 90's television. Everything was in black and white. My gaze landed on the guy beside me. At that moment, I realized that I was not alone. Everything has no color except me and him. It felt weird especially when he touched my cheek softly and I felt the warmth of his hand. I was lying on the grass with him, captivated by his peculiar eyes. Those pair of eyes were green as emerald stones, fascinating and deep as if it can pierce through my soul. I can’t take my eyes off him.

Ember is immediately terrified and clings to me. “What the hell was that?” “Yokai!” Ember screams. What the fuck is a Yokai? *Ember* I cling to Damian as I get an overwhelming sense that there's a spirit here. And it is not a happy one. I look around and see the Yokai in the river. It has its arms crossed and looks pissed.

Benjamin remarked as he stepped onto the dried clay of the broad pathway. The sunlight was fading as they approached the house, and she noticed a dim light coming from the porch and windows, not the light of fire or candles but the distinct luminescence of maurium. ‘Maurium.' She looked with some astonishment at the eerie purple glow. ‘I haven't seen any since we left Pyre.' "Maurium, I see,” he said with a look of disappointment. "Well, that's not reassuring, is it?" "It... isn't," she reluctantly agreed.

Smaller cabins scattered around it, each one with glass ceilings for watching the aurora. An artificially heated spring sat at the center of it all, steam curling lazily into the arctic air — imported warmth in a place that had none. Everything pristine and perfect and obscenely intentional. Ember turns to me, eyes bright, and she’s smiling — actually smiling — and I’d burn the whole world down to keep that expression on her face. “You look like a child on Christmas,” I tell her. Ember doesn’t look at me. Still taking it all in, eyes moving slowly across the landscape like she has never seen anything quite like it before.

“It felt magical.” “Well… maybe?” Ember scoffed. “I guess I wouldn’t know what that feels like. I haven’t found my mate. I’m just here, mate-less and hospitalized while you’re out kissing magical boys.” “Oh come on, Ember,” Piper groaned. “I apologized.” “Yes, and I am milking it appropriately.” Ember pouted for two full seconds… then her expression snapped back to serious. “Now. You mentioned the Widow’s Bane.” Piper stiffened.

Rhett coughed out. Aislen shook her head and jumped to grasp the top of the wall and pull herself up. The bricks were warm under her skin, almost enough to burn. Within the courtyard, there was a scorch mark radiating out from a central point, where Ember stood utterly naked, wings spread. The wings were not wings as Samuel’s were, like those of a bat covered in black membrane, rather Ember’s wings were those of fire, the flickering flame generating enough heat to lift the ends of her long red hair.

“It looks so cold and soulless, don’t you think?” Ember didn’t flinch. “I obviously just arrived. I’ll decorate it in my own style in time,” she said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have somewhere to be.” She moved to step past Serene, but Serene wasn’t finished yet. “It’s a good thing you’re young,” she mused, her voice thick with condescension. “You’re too inexperienced for him anyway.” Ember exhaled heavily but didn’t turn around. “I honestly don’t give a rat’s ass about what he likes,” she said flatly. Then, without missing a beat, she added, “And I sure as hell don’t give a fuck about you. You can choke on his dick for all I care.”

The silence between them grew colder. What do you mean, Ezekiel, I can't seem to understand what you're saying.. Ezekiel muttered, “If Velise was Realiks’ daughter… and Ember has her wolf… then…” Gamma’s eyes widened. “Then Ember may be carrying a bloodline connected to” They didn’t say it aloud. It was too much. Ezekiel shook his head. “No. Ember is not like that. I’ve seen her. She’s pure. Kind. Brave.”

POV: Ember Wellesley Nightshade. The sun had barely begun to set behind the hills, casting long golden shadows over the backyard of their modest cottage. Ember sat cross-legged on the grass, her hands stained green from plucking wild herbs her father had taught her to find. She was maybe eight — wild-haired, stubborn, sharp-eyed. Her father knelt beside the little garden box, dirt under his nails, sleeves rolled up. He was a quiet man, the kind who didn’t speak unless he had something worth saying. Tonight, he did.

She didn’t sense that someone was there since there was no scent that lingers in the area. With much confidence, Ember half-transformed. Her claws and fangs elongated, and her eyes turned to gold. She jumped so high as she made her way toward the. Top of the waterfalls. She jumps from one rock to another, forcing her strong limbs to jump high. If the scene down there is so beautiful, the scene on top of the falls was another story. She can see the blaring lights of Bresmont, the modern city dominated by werewolves. From where she stood, she can see how serene Bresmont looks.