Romans & histoires Rise Up From The Ashes

Guilt filled hers, turning into tears that rolled down her cheeks. Sophie spotted me too, high above them all. She screamed, "Anna, I'll kill you! I'll kill you! Why do I get to live again but still lose to you? I should be the one who wins! It should have been Niles who united all humans. Why is this different from last time? Why?!" It was too bad that she would never understand. Relying on men, especially those who saw us as food, would never work. Logan and Niles were dead.

Sarah assured him. “After 500 years of our existence we can ascend, so to say… find some secluded place, make an altar, lay on it, and let our own fire consume us and take us from one life to another. After 9 days, we are born again from the ashes just like the legend says.” “And the secluded place is necessary because of the fire and all?” Sarah tried to imagine the scene in her head and indeed it was scary, like nothing she heard about the supernatural world before.

Fire settled into my bones, steady as a crown needing no metal. “Raise your heads,” I said. They did. And in the silence that followed, their howls rose again—free, unbroken, ours. Ash drifted. The hall burned clean. The Luna’s Lie was ash. The Ash Queen had risen. And no one would ever put her back in fire’s cage.

Sighing softly, I threw my head back, letting the cool breeze waft against the damp blotches against my skin. 'Give me one reason, just one fucking reason to live if you loved me for at least once, mom and Dad' I stare up to the sky, maybe from somewhere far they are looking at me.Maybe they care.Maybe. … I woke up with a massive headache and sore muscles, blinding light seeped through my closed eyelids as I squinted them to adjust to the bright sun rays.I forced my sore limbs to move and stepped inside the Hall before making my way to the room I am staying in.

Xavier raises an eyebrow before responding, “did your brother not saying anything to you about coming here?” I begin to think back to the moments leading up to waking up in the opulent bedroom. That’s when it hits me. I begin to get flashbacks of the attack. Suddenly I find breathing to be difficult. My head begins to spin. I feel so dirty. I want to rid myself of the clothes on my body and burn them. I want to shower until the water runs cold, in hopes that the water can cleanse my skin. I begin to see stars, and collapse onto the ground in hysterics.

he cried. I stopped walking and looked at the man who had once been the untouchable prince of Saphira's elite circle. Now, he was nothing more than a mad beggar without an ounce of his former dignity. I felt neither sympathy nor satisfaction at his downfall. The only thing left was a sense of peace, as I had completely let go of the past. I said, "Live well, Wayne. Carry the debt you owe me and spend a long life in the damning swamp you've created for yourself."

She blew on the lighter, and the flame went out, then she looked back up to the sky and glared. DUSK CAME and Adeline looked away from the window, unable to face the rising moon. Idaliah finally calmed down and was crouched in a corner, rocking herself to sleep. "Don't blame yourself," Adeline said comfortingly. "You have done your part, and..." She sighed. "We are but extras to fate's will." And yet even she couldn't hold on to her words. She knew how Idaliah felt. The guilt, the helplessness, the uselessness—she understood them all.

There was a loud crash, which scared everyone there. My ashes scattered everywhere. Jasper still felt angry. He laughed disdainfully and stepped on my ashes, grinding them with the sole of his shoe. The staff members' jaws had dropped in shock. They hadn't even had time to stop him. Jasper kicked my ashes and sent them flying. "Tell Amara that she came up with a very innovative trick this time round, but it's lame. I'm not going to waver at all, no matter whether she's dead or alive!

Outside, Lagos rearranged itself—ruin and beginning, ash and ember. Ashes are not endings. Embers remember. And from embers, whole cities rise again—burning brighter, unafraid.

Above her, the sky opens, stormlight shifting, clouds folding back as if to watch. She doesn’t shout. She speaks. And the world leans in. “We are not the forgotten,” she says. “We are not the obedient. We are not what they left behind.” The runes pulse. The blade glows brighter. “We are what comes next. We are what rises from ruin. We are the children of flame and sorrow. And we are Ashborn.” The courtyard explodes in sound. In voice. In fury turned sacred. The Blade of Caladris lights like a second sun.