Long Forgotten Flame Novels & Stories

"These flowers are for you, Grandaunt Cassie and Aunt Rosie." When I saw how happy Mom looked, I regretted not bringing her home earlier. She'd been subjected to insults and mockery with Dad, but at home, she was Grandpa and Grandma's pride and joy. We had a lively meal. Uncle Brad turned on the TV to watch the news. Just then, a breaking news report came on. "A villa belonging to the Gray family accidentally caught fire. Gray Corporation's CEO and Shaw Group's heir are burned after trying to put out the fire."

It was a tender breeze that cradled the echoes of long-forgotten lives, each gust whispering secrets of those who once walked this hallowed ground. Her fingers lingered over a new sigil etched into her palm, its sharp lines and intricate curves stark against her skin. This mark had been born from the fierce blaze she had summoned weeks earlier—a unique flame that felt alive with potential. It wasn’t soul-fire, devoid of warmth or purpose, nor was it Hollow, a shadow of existence. No, this was something far rarer; she had chosen to call it the Silver Flame, though its true nature remained shrouded in mystery. Yet, as she took each step on this sacred soil, she felt the gentle hum resonating f

It was my turn to share mine and I got nervous. “Hi, I’m Altalune Mizuki.” I started “Uhm I have an older brother, to be honest, I envy y’all.” I laughed “How do you feel when you make your brothers and sisters your support?” I looked at everyone “Because my brother, he left us. there was a bad misunderstanding in our house, he just left the house suddenly and never came back. I was 13 years old at that time, I am 18 now. We haven't seen each other for 8 years and I feel like he has no plans to return. When I was a child we were happy, I don't know if the world was punishing me.” I couldn’t help but the tears are falling into my eyes “I hope we meet again, before I get tired of him. That’s a

Malia Placing the flowers on Sebastion's tombstone I sat down from across after laying a blanket on the grass and began holding my necklace. "Hey bash, I'm sorry for not coming by sooner I was supposed to come a couple of weeks ago but you know me, I was so tired I mistakenly slept all day" I chuckled "I ended up going to the club that same night and ended up leaving with someone, I couldn't tell you who he was because I don't even know but I do remember him having a tattoo on his chest. It was pretty cool actually; it was an angel with burning wings falling. But anyway, my last day at Firehouse 12 was the other day, I start at the new station tomorrow as the head paramedic, apparently, I wa

From hunger. The soul he was about to trade had never been his to begin with. He pressed the edge of his claw to his tongue. Bit. Bled again. “Lael ith os murn. I am the last flame. I am the spine of the beast. I give. Take me.” The ground groaned. The altar split down the middle. And from the wound in the earth came not fire—but breath. Old breath. The kind that smelled like burnt roots and forgotten names. The kind of breath that remembered the First Pact and had waited too long to be worshipped again.

I didn’t sleep Too many whispers in the wind Too many eyes in the fire And too many truths waiting to break through skin and breath By dawn, Ewen had returned from patrol, but something was wrong His hands were trembling His mouth wouldn’t open Soren moved to him first, but Ewen raised one hand—don’t touch me I stepped forward The mark on my wrist flared before I could speak And from Ewen’s lips— Not his voice But hers The First Flame Not fully Just her echo “You thought you burned me,” she whispered. “But even ash remembers the shape of its flame.” Lucian lunged forward, but Soren stopped him. “It’s not full possession. It’s residual.” “I told you I wasn’t the only one buried,” I said, step

“The world dies no matter what we do. I only want to rebuild it from the ashes.” The bond between us pulsed again, stronger, hungrier. I could feel the tug deep in my chest, like a string being pulled tighter and tighter. My own fire reacted instinctively, flaring bright against the darkness. Aaron lifted his hand. Shadows curled around his wrist like living tendrils. “You can’t fight it forever. The fire doesn’t belong to you alone. It remembers me.” “Then let it remember,” I said, summoning the flame within me. It erupted in a blaze of gold and crimson, swirling around me like wings. “Because I’m not her. I’m not the first flame—and I won’t make her mistake.”

Aurelian did not respond. “You allowed interference.” Silence. Then the Archangel’s gaze shifted. To Kaelith. “You are the cause.” Kaelith placed a hand lightly over his chest. “Wow. Straight to blame. I like it.” The Archangel raised its hand. The realm responded. From nothing, a weapon formed. A whip. Not physical. Not entirely. It burned with a flame that did not flicker, did not spread, but consumed everything it touched. Its edges dissolved into mist, trailing something that did not belong to any known element.

"Owen, where are you going? Today is our wedding night. Can't you stay with me for tonight?" Her silk robe slipped slightly off her shoulder as she spoke, revealing smooth, fair skin. But he didn't spare her a glance. He tightened his grip on Luca's hand and strode past her. "Sorry, Vivian. Our agreement is over. It's time for me to get my memory back." He left without hesitation. Her face drained of color, but she could not stop him. Arriving at my villa, Owen excitedly said, "Shannon, I remember everything now! Luca and I are home!" However, only silence answered him.

Lying in a hospital bed, I brought up divorce to Benedict Langley. Rubbing his temples in exhaustion, he sounded impatient. "I was up all night dealing with the fire in Norham and just lay down to rest, yet you drag me here for this? Is this some kind of joke?"