Necklace Urns For Human Ashes Novels & Stories

He stuck the lantern into the ground and drove the shovel into the earth, one stroke at a time. Moonlight fell across his face. His expression was a tangled mess of shock, fear, and guilt. The soil came up layer by layer. He dug for a long time. Finally, the shovel struck something solid. Edmund tossed it aside, dropped to his knees, and clawed the loose dirt away with his bare hands. The coffin came into view. He took a deep breath and shoved the lid open. Inside was nothing but a single white porcelain urn. Edmund lifted the urn out and removed the lid. Inside were pale gray ashes, still faintly warm from the burning. His hands began to tremble.

I challenged, gritting my teeth in anger as I took a few steps away from him. He heaved a sigh, putting his hands in his pockets before pulling out a necklace that had a green see-through love pendant. He took a few steps towards me, covering the space between us until his lips almost met my forehead. “I came to give you this,” he paused, revealing the beautiful necklace to me. I scoffed in refusal. There was no way he would buy my forgiveness with a fucking necklace. “I don't want to go into details, but I filled it with your parents’ ashes. I know what it means to you. There are no sand particles, just a bit of the ashes I could lay my hands on so you won't feel alone anymore.”

They had won the world back, but the cost lay scattered as dark ash at the centre. Ashiel hadn’t moved, he sat cross-legged before his brother’s remains, head bowed. The rising sun gleamed off his neglected sword, Liora wanted to comfort him, but the silence around him was a wall. Some griefs are too big for words, instead, she found a task. With Elara’s help, she carefully gathered Kael’s ashes into a simple clay urn from their supplies. It was a small, fragile thing to hold a life so big and complicated. As she sealed the lid, her fingers brushed the journal at her belt, it felt different.

He didn’t have to suffer anymore, and now she had nothing left to hold her here. She bought a small but beautiful plot of land and built a cenotaph for him, afraid Nick might suspect something or that her brother’s spirit would have nowhere to rest. She spent a full day and night sitting by the grave, holding the urn in her arms, talking softly about their childhood and all the things she had never said. When dawn came, Lisa left the cemetery with the urn in her arms. Back at the house, she heard muffled, breathless sounds from inside. Her hand froze on the doorknob. After a few seconds, she entered the code and walked in.

I hadn’t even noticed her dusting the other side of the room. ‘No, sorry, Belinda. I was actually talking to myself.’ ‘They say talking to oneself is the first sign of madness.’ I laugh. ‘Aren’t we all a little mad in some way?’ ‘Probably,’ she smiles. Walking upstairs, I go into my wardrobe, pick up their cardboard box and carry it downstairs. Belinda is tidying the next room. I pick up the urn that has Mum engraved on it and place it on the shelf near the piano. The second urn with Dad engraved on it, I place next to Mum. I step back and stare at the urns for a few moments.

And it was a battlefield. Elena stood behind me, her hands moving with practiced, gentle precision. She fastened the final clasp of the necklace around my neck. It was a piece from the deepest part of the family vault. A heavy chain made of silver that had been mined three hundred years ago, holding a single pendant shaped like a phoenix rising from flames. It was encrusted with brilliant cut diamonds and dark black sapphires that caught the light and seemed to glow from within. It had belonged to the very first woman to lead the Ashford family alone. A woman who had fought wars, survived betrayal, and built the foundation of everything we had.

The urn immediately began to corrode. To prevent my mother's ashes from being damaged, I endured the agony of the silver powder's corrosion and wiped it off the urn. My hands were even burned by the silver powder until the white bone showed through. But I still held the damaged urn in my arms like it was a precious treasure. Sera suddenly walked closer to me. I watched her warily. She curved her lips in a meaningful smile.

After hanging up, Helen clung to Daniel and wailed. The hatred in my heart crumbled little by little. My transparent body gently hugged them. I didn't know what to say. I only knew that in that moment, my heart felt warm. So they did have me in their hearts. After my bones were cremated, Daniel wanted to buy me a thirty-thousand-dollar urn. Helen refused. She ordered a necklace with a small vial and placed my ashes inside, wearing it around her neck. She said, "I owe Miles too much. I want to keep him with me."

“Yes, we took the liberty of turning her remains in ourselves. Mr. Blackwood said you would prefer that.” I slowly took out the small ceramic urn that had a small nook in the centre. It weighed just as much as Yvette did, and had her name etched on one side of the vase with angel wings framing it. I pressed the urn to my chest as my heart tightened, completely forgetting the people around me. “Sorry.” I apologized as I sniffled. The mortician gave me a small smile. “I’ve seen more displays of grief in this office than you can ever imagine