Longing Rusted Furnace Daybreak Novels & Stories

I picked up and held the rusty landline to my ear. “Does it work?” Ace asked as he looked at me over his shoulder as his large hands fumbled with the small flint. “Dead, most likely from the storm. We’ll have to wait for it to pass.” I sighed. After a few minutes of Ace struggling and cursing, the spark caught, and soon enough the fire started burning. The scorching fire barely lit the room, and darkness still prevailed. I quickly grabbed the candles and started lighting them two at a time.

Zach sighed. "Jenna, it looks like Bernard really loves you. He's been standing in the rain outside the building for a week." I shook my head and drew the curtains, shutting out the drizzle and Bernard's silhouette. So what if he loved me? It didn't erase what he did. If he'd cared, he wouldn't have crossed that line. It was far too late for apologies. … Later on, Wyatt called and said Bernard had come down with pneumonia after a fever, but he was refusing treatment.

The flickering light registered first. It seemed to come from all corners of the room beyond the door, all directions until it replaced everything in Janice's world with cold fire. The door slammed behind her with a defiant thud, leaving her alone with whatever was causing the prismatic world. Slowly, images began to come to the forefront. An animated demon perched on a mountain, summoning spectral figures from the ground. A man, standing in a busy street, throws a Molotov cocktail into an oncoming car's window.

“The Iron Furnace? Do you really think it’s possible? How could we not have known?” “I don’t know,” Malachai replied bluntly. “The only lead I have is what this wretch here thinks he heard from the Domineers.” Alex glared at Malachai behind his back for continuing to disrespect him. “The furnace is not far from here. We’ll have to search the area to know for sure. Ravennite lives are at stake.” “Then I’m with you!” Zak said proudly. “We will not abandon our people to suffer and die!”

Lucas asked rapidly, as the man wearing the black leather jacket handed the phone he used earlier to the first guy who woke up, the Asian one. The Asian guy put his phone inside his pocket and faced Lucas. "Well, it's almost lunch," he said as he stared at his smartwatch. His voice is calm but rich in tone. The quality of his vocal cords was something to be impressed about. Also, what he got was a nice watch, but Lucas has no clue about popular brands. A poor and orphan man like him has no luxury. "Do we need to exhaust ourselves that much, huh?" he added and walked towards Lucas. "By the way, I'm Maru, a Fire Starter." He ended, offering his hands for a fist bomb.

As if he had seen through Samuel's focus, Lang Yu smiled gently and explained, "These are all illusions, but they are also the characteristics of the 72 branches of our auction house. Sky in the House, haha." Samuel smiled and said, "Sky in the House? It's quite suitable and interesting." "You flatter me, distinguished guest. Allow me to introduce this red pill furnace to you. This red pill furnace in front of you is a huge magma furnace that can withstand the high temperature without melting. As for this black one, it has a background. It is made of Meteorite Metal. With this furnace, it will definitely yield twice the result with half the effort." Samuel nodded and was about to speak when

How he would make love to me slowly and passionately before we started the day. Instead, all I was left with was the lingering notes of woodsmoke that permeated our rooms, an empty bed and a fire to keep at bay the chill at best. It was depressing to say the least, but I was determined to not wallow. Maddison and Alice were back to their usual morning wake up calls, helping me to get dressed for the day and banking the fires in the rooms. They ensured that there was always a good blaze before leaving. The days were getting much shorter and with it the temperatures were starting to plumet.

Prologue II: Pyre, 3113 Pyre Av 5, 3113 Stephan Caliphus, King Everything was on fire the night he finished the book in the back room of a borrowed house. He laid his glasses down on the desk in front of him and rubbed his tired eyes. The crackling of flames could be heard as the city burned all around them. The blood curdling screams of the men in the streets where they died was enough to make the blood of the fiercest warrior run cold, but he was a man of empathy and it hurt him more than it did the others.

Lila I stopped counting after three days. It wasn’t intentional. Just a slow erosion. The lines I’d scratched into the edge of the hearth blurred, smeared by soot, damp sleeves, and the weight of not caring enough to redraw them. My internal clock had dissolved into fragments: sunrises, fire cycles, the brittle ache of hunger crawling like ivy through my ribs. Mornings began gray, like even the air had stopped trying. My breath fogged even inside, near the fire. What wood I could drag in never fully dried, and each time I knelt to strike a spark, the damp bark hissed back at me, reluctant to burn.

The jail cell inside the old ranger station was cold, damp, and reeked of mildew. Rust clung to the barred door, flaking off like scabs of forgotten violence. A chill crept in from the cracked windows above, letting the scent of pine and stormwater seep through. Ethan Lockwood sat slumped against the stone wall, his breath shallow, skin pale beneath the flickering light of a distant fire.