Grimgar Of Fantasy And Ash Books Novels & Stories

The world didn’t end quietly, it ended with Ash’s roar, a raw, animal sound from a man watching his future disappear in front of him. He forgot the spear in his shoulder, the fire in his ribs, everything except Liora falling, the broken wood in her back a cruel mark of Gregor’s madness. Gregor stood over her, his face twisted with triumph. “Darkness always wins! It claims what it’s owed!” A red haze blurred Ash’s sight, he charged, not with a knife, but with his broken body, tackling Gregor down. His hands grabbed the elder’s throat, driven by one pure instinct: to erase the source of pain.

I forced the transformation, which expelled much of the poison from my body, and leapt at the traitor, digging my teeth into his shoulder and pulled, the taste of blood, flesh and bone invading my mouth. ************ Note: Don't forget to like, comment, and share the book! This really helps it grow on the platform

It was exactly as Joan had seen the last time, but this time Hazel was conscious and there was a book in her hands. "The Grimoire" Joan muttered when she recognized the book. "Ta…take…this" Hazel handed the book to Ash, but he didn't collect it. "How could you Hazel? Dark magic is forbidden… look at what you've done to yourself! Mother was right" Ash knocked the book out of her hands. "I'm…sorry" Hazel struggled to say the word. They could tell that she was in a lot of pain. "I needed to do this. It wouldn't have happened. It was all…my fault" As soon as the last words left Hazel's mouth, she groaned in raw pain.

Glowing magical threads emerged from her ear, twisted around themselves, and formed a small sphere. It was the memory of the dream, and another memory about Zane. The stranger closed his hand around the memory and destroyed it. Lila’s body jerked for a moment, then went still.

“Magister, why do we let garbage through the gates? Let me throw her to the stone giant and save us the paperwork.” I ignored him, but my left hand squeezed into a tight fist. My nails pressed hard into an old, ugly scar that hid my forbidden blood seal. It kept my real, dangerous ash-magic buried deep inside me. In this empire, that kind of magic meant death. It was the same power the lost Ash King used when he nearly burned the whole world a hundred years ago. “Put your hand on the stone,” Vane ordered. I stepped forward. My boots hit the hard ground, and I felt cold eyes burning into the back of my neck.

The Innkeeper, frozen in a silent exclamation, seemed to fade from my vision. It was as if I was no longer in the dusty office, but suspended in a void, surrounded by swirling mists of light and shadow. Then, images began to coalesce within the glow of the parchment. They weren't static pictures, but fleeting, vibrant snippets, like dreams playing out in rapid succession. I saw flashes of familiar faces, though some were older, etched with lines of experience I hadn't seen before. There was Fenrik, his golden eyes blazing with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine, but also a weariness that hadn't been present moments ago.

"I used to imagine all sorts of things. My mother used to tell me that I let my imagination run too wild." It's true, she did. But she never meant it in a hurtful way. A smile tugs at my lips. "I wanted a phoenix for awhile." Professor Starling raises an eyebrow. "Oh?" "But then I decided risking my bonded burning me alive wasn't worth it. Then I wanted a gryphon." "What changed?" she asks. I glance at the direwolves running with their bondeds. I wonder how it feels to have something, anything, that devoted to you. I can't help but feel envious, because I will never have that.

Then, they transformed. Two massive wolves snarled and lunged, brawling in the ashes. Ash and soot clouded the air as the wolves clashed, fangs bared, fury unleashed. They didn’t stop until they were completely spent. Finally, they collapsed apart, panting, scorched and scraped. Jones slumped down, face ashen, despair written in every line on his face.

Darkness swept in like a storm. I stood at the edge of a battlefield—charred earth beneath my feet, thick smoke curling into a sky cracked with thunder. Bodies littered the ground. Wolves. Lycans. Humans. Their eyes stared blankly at the heavens. In the center, rising from a mountain of ash, stood Griffin. A crown of burning gold hovered above his head, and in his hand… the orb. Only it wasn’t glowing with the soft, sacred light I had come to know. It was bleeding.

Esmeralda had seemed as harmless as a dove with her beautiful, lush red hair and green eyes, she had such an innocent baby-looking like face. No one would have thought her to be the person she made out to become. But in Mara's case, it was way more complicated than what they believed. Grimshaw wanted her, and Grimshaw was no recruiter of humans. He despised them and saw them as a lower specie. His favorite recruits were all things sorcery and magic. The man was a freak of evil, ranging from mages to actual sorcerers.