Reputation Embersofapril Novels & Stories

"I'm sorry, Ember. I didn't mean to be a part of your private conversation, but Ash was just so nervous. My name is Layla. I'm Larminiel's daughter." "Well shit, Ash. Way to keep a sister informed. It's nice to meet you, Layla. Meet Dex." She said and I heard some fumbling and light arguing before Dex's voice came through. "Hello Layla. Hey, Ash. Sorry she made me." He chuckled. Seems Ember and I were both nervous to talk to one another. "We're mate less, but not alone." I whispered, but she heard me. "I didn't think of that. Ash I hope you know that if I ever run into that mate again I may beat her to pulp and I'll need you to make sure I don't get killed in an elf war. Okay?" She joked.

Saavi had put her full body weight on Dhruv who held her like he was protecting her. "Dhruv," Saavi called him running her index finger on his bicep. "Yes, love." "Why do you call me Ember To My Flame?" she asked remembering when she was about to commit suicide Dhruv stopped her and confessed Saavi was The Ember to his Flame. "Interesting Question, love." Dhruv smiled before asking, "Do you know what Ember is?" Saavi raised her head from his chest and nodded vigorously. She answered her husband as she said, "Yes, a piece of wood or coal that is not burning, but is still red and hot after a fire has died."

The student body went into applause. “Any question?” Chloe asked “What was behind the name Empire?” Cami was the person to ask the question. Yes Cami was still in school, she was still a grade away from graduating high school. “That is a great question. Empire was the name of my late Godmother; I owe her a lot so I named everything I own after her.” Chloe replied with a smile

The ones others called dangerous or cursed. Ariya made them powerful. She made them believe. Ember had stood at her side, not just as protector but as twin flame, tied by something deeper than blood. A bond older than their names, older than their fear. They were everything to each other. And then, they lost everything. - Ember’s steps slowed as she reached a clearing where stones jutted from the earth like old bones. She knelt, brushing frost away from a mark half buried in dirt, a crescent moon with a slash of lightning.

Their silver-blue ember glowed in the central brazier, a promise that truth and love endure beyond every trial. Author’s Note Eternal Embers was inspired by my fascination with hidden societies, the power of choice, and the alchemy of art. I hope Isabelle’s sketches and Alexander’s courage encourage you to discover then rekindle the embers within your own story. .

Apollo exhaled through his nose, the sound sharp with contempt. So, they had survived. Of course they did. The Emberborn were never fools. Traitors, yes. Arrogant enough to believe they could twist fate to their advantage, to crown themselves through deceit instead of dominion. When their conspiracy was uncovered, Hell had burned them out with ruthless thoroughness. Not justice, not mercy—a cleansing, like fire through a plague-ridden chapel. But thorough was not the same as complete.

“I applaud you and your team when you found another missing body. Sincerely, I am proud of you. But the mayor... he wants us to focus on our duty as peacekeepers of Pinephil. Let the big shazam be solved by the Shazam.” Ember furrowed her brows, hand crumpling the folder containing the evidence. Fathima Mae December alias Ember — her mother tends to refer to her by her second name — stands between five feet and eleven inches tall. Ember's short, messy hair is rolled into a small, low bun, allowing the thin strands of her brown hair to blend in with her black hair, making her look like a dark chocolate peanut butter cup. She parted her lips, a light shade of nude lipstick brushed on it. She w

“That explains why it doesn’t spread like normal contagions. It doesn’t need to. The moment it makes contact, it doesn’t multiply—it replicates a state. It reprograms whatever it touches to behave like itself. Cold begets cold.” Emma added, “And warmth is the only counter-command.” Sarah snapped her fingers. “That’s why you can resist it. Your Ember isn’t just heat—it's a counter-rhythm. A living pulse. The virus wants stillness. The Ember is movement.” Steve groaned. “Can you two finish your science poetry after I stop seeing stars?” Emma smiled faintly, and her hands flared a bit brighter. “Hang on,” she whispered. “Just a little more.” ---

He turned the tower’s energy against itself, the shadows eating the emerald light from the inside out. The Matriarch—the thing that looked like my mother—let out a digital shriek. Her form began to melt, the blue dress turning into a pile of green sludge. "You... ungrateful... defect..." she hissed. "I'm not a defect," I said, standing over her as the tower began to crumble. "I'm the **Rewrite**." --- ### The Great Unplugging The Emerald Tower didn't just fall; it evaporated. The Grey Flame and the Shadow merged into a massive EMP—an Electro-Magnetic Pulse of pure soul-energy. It shot out from the tower, rippling across the Intersection, hitting the five Reaper ships in the sky.

He was beautiful in the way only the spoiled and arrogant can be—untouchable, expensive, dangerous. My breath caught in my throat. Heat flooded my cheeks, my neck, lower. I should have turned away. I should have closed the door and pretended I’d seen nothing. Instead I stood frozen, the steam kissing my skin, carrying the scent of his body wash—something woody and expensive that made my pulse throb between my legs before I could stop it. His eyes snapped open. Emerald green, sharp as broken glass. A slow, wicked smile curved his mouth.