Qibli Wings Of Fire Novels & Stories

Faster and faster, the wall of fire swirled and built until finally the entire courtyard had been consumed in a fiery kiss. If another human had been present for the phenomenon, they would have compared it to the pits of hell. Wanting ever more power to be gained and harnessed and un- leashed, Oliver stretched out his hands as if being crucified and called the flames back to him. As the destruction compacted and convulsed angrily, he flung his hands to the heavens. The swirling, convulsing maelstrom of fire obeyed him in totality

They flare on either side of me and when I stand, the points arch to encompass a wide scope of the ground, causing the others to back away in shock. Because I have wings. Wings of fire.

You cannot… It didn’t finish, because the fire moved from us. The white blaze poured outward, sculpting itself into form. Wings, yes, but not of flame alone. They carried weight, shape, bone made of light, feathers cut from fire. They unfurled behind us, vast enough to brush the hollow walls, each beat scattering roots like brittle twigs. The girl gasped, her voice a ragged prayer. “Saints… you’re… ” But she couldn’t name it, neither could I.

When I was almost upon it, the creature's face turned, twisted, that awful smile lighting up its molten features, and it rose almost to its feet, its wings opening up fully, the golden hue of its feathers dazzling my eyes. I blinked away the glaring light, but refused to stop, holding out my arms. Beneath my skin the blue veins were glowing, growing brighter with each step closer that I took, and then when the Power was just a few metres away, it burned the brightest of all, the heat erupting from my hands. The fireball hit the Angel's wings with so much force that it was flung backwards where it rolled, desperately trying to extinguish the flames. These were no ordinary flames though and I

’ Her wings, filled with golden silk intertwined with the feathers, had me watching in awe. “I’m going to transport us,” I whispered, holding her close. “Let me know if you get too hot.” Uriel came close, her wings quivering at the sudden wind surrounding us. Smoke encircled us as bursts of flames came around like a tornado. The lighting flashed inside, finally engulfing us until it faded away.

“Impossible-” Wings of fire unfurled from Freya’s back, vast and radiant, their feathers forged from golden embers. Her hair streamed upward in currents of molten sunlight. Her eyes burned, not mortal, not borrowed, but as twin cores of dawn. Every line of her body blazed with raw sovereignty, not given, not inherited, claimed. Freya lifted the Sword, her voice rising steady and final above the storm. It was not a scream. It was a vow. “This flame was never yours. It was waiting for me.”

Soaring beside the terrifying dragon was a winged figure of such staggering majesty and grandeur that would make one’s soul tremble in awe. This was no mere beast or entity - this was an elemental force of nature imbued with a searing, blazing radiance that eclipsed the fiercest wildfires. The figure's wings were an impossible, burning crimson that seemed to blaze with an internal luminescence as if forged from the heart of a supernova itself. Each immense wing spanned farther than eyes could track, their leading edges glowing hot like the birth of a newborn star. They beat in slow, inexorable downstrokes that stirred the very air into frenzied cyclones.

You thought you could erase me? Watch me etch my name in every breath you take. I am not soft. I am not sweet. I am not yours. I am fire. And fire never begs to be seen.

I will try it every month if that's what it takes. “Primordial mother, I summon you. Tiamat, I summon you.” During this rite, we will be passing through stages of astral Draconthropy to become as Tiamat, to become a dragon - powerful, wise, decisive, standing in our power where we will harness 'melammu,' the black flame and spark of creation that resides within us, to be our own gods and stand in our power. We are going to use Leviathan, the dragon god of the subconscious, to aid us. And our quarter calls will begin in the west, following counter-clockwise, as it will be opposite to the sun, and we will be calling in The Four Winds, used in some Mesopotamian magic. I chose to do this as they

He would drown his guilt in fire. --- The skies over Qombinia turned crimson at dawn. What began as a whisper in the outer cities quickly became a thunderous truth — the borderlands were under siege. In the eastern reaches, dark-winged shadows blotted out the morning sun. Vampire banners fluttered in the wind — crimson eyes gleaming beneath blackened armor, their fangs glinting like daggers. From the west, green fire scorched the forests, as witches on sky-brooms and shadow beasts hurled curses that split the air like thunder.