Soul Flame Novels & Stories

My subconscious mind started replying to me. "This is all your fault!" I yelled at stars making an angry face while wiping out my tears with my hands. "Now why are you blaming them?" My subconscious mind asked me for which I started throwing daggers at sky. "Because they are the reason for my current situation!" I exclaimed while angry tears are oozing out from my eyes. "Huh! Now stop behaving like a silly and crazy kid. Explain clearly." My subconscious mind said. "I asked the stars to align properly and send my THE ONE to me ASAP. But now I think, they got misaligned, making the wrong one enter my life instead of my THE ONE!!!" I cried out loud.

A flash of crimson lightening split the sky and a rush of fiery rain hammered the ground with force enough to crack it further. It lasted last than a minute, but the scalding heat was enough to calm him, his skin immune to the boiling fluid. It glistened on his body, steam trickling away like small spirits. The burn was sharp, stinging, eve though it left no mark, thrilling in its own way. "Come back, my dear hounds," he murmured "Thou art the flame I thrust down upon them. A flame deadly to body and soul, to word and shade. I, Master of the fire, prevail over thee, as you pierce their spirit and draw their end."

Back then, Cheryl hid inside the Cleansing Vase to avoid the Undead Queen’s soul sense. “Are you guys going? You keep droning on and on!” King Sandros was waiting impatiently. “Let’s go. What’s your hurry?” Whoosh! Worry-free, Blaze immediately jumped into the volcanic crater. After that, the crowd entered one after another. The truth was not far from what Blaze had said. His peculiar flame carried a certain law and attribute that did not belong to this world. As long as he enveloped himself with the flame, the starving ghosts and evil spirits wandering in the Hell Tower would hide far away from him.

A fox man releases thy soul of the red flame royalties, a lone man releases thy soul of the black flame royalty and the green flame royalty releases thy soul of the once beholder of thy flames. Niffa was confused, furrowed, and felt a little longing to seek more. The book’s context was perplexing and too old from the way it was written and the way the writer tells. Rico was confused as well, he knew that the green flame holder was Niffa, but what about the once beholder that the book is talking about? They continued reading the next page, it says,

Victor wanted to reluctantly argue, blinded by what was really happening but the next second his breath hitched in utter disbelief at the sudden occurrence flashing before him. “No… No!... im... impossible! It must be the drug… you must have released the fumes in here… yes! That has to be it… this was all part of your plan… have the others distract me… while you were secretly waiting to take me out…” The agitated man reasoned; clearly in denial as he stumbled backwards pressing on the wall behind him for support, his eyes intently glued to the scene of the glitching figure several steps ahead. “I… can assure you… this is no drug… and I am… Mike Rayburn… a soul with a vengeance.”

From hunger. The soul he was about to trade had never been his to begin with. He pressed the edge of his claw to his tongue. Bit. Bled again. “Lael ith os murn. I am the last flame. I am the spine of the beast. I give. Take me.” The ground groaned. The altar split down the middle. And from the wound in the earth came not fire—but breath. Old breath. The kind that smelled like burnt roots and forgotten names. The kind of breath that remembered the First Pact and had waited too long to be worshipped again.

THE NAME THAT BURNS “A forgotten name burns worse than any flame.” The Flame Forgets Her. Elara stood in the center of the flame circle. The silver fire rose around her in slow spirals, as if trying to recognize her. It didn’t breathe with her. It didn’t sing her name anymore, because it didn’t remember it. “Elara,” Lyra said softly from behind her, hesitant. “It’s like it’s trying to match your soul… and finding nothing.”

The fire erupted. It burst through her skin black and wild, devouring. Trees splintered like bones cracking under an unseen hand. Small creatures shrieked and vanished into ash. The familiar they had conjured together — that luminous, impossible creation — screamed as it was wrenched into the world unbidden. Its twin followed, both howling, their light torn ragged by the black tide. Sierra fell to her knees. The storm inside her chest became the storm outside. She screamed, but it wasn’t a human sound anymore.

Then he closed them… and bent. Five powers, ancient, feared and legendary, lowered themselves. Not broken but simply acknowledging. I raised my hand. Or rather...Inferno did. The air thickened around my palm. Golden fire unfurled, not burning, or consuming. Just a light that seemed too old to be called flame. Astral fire. Soul-fire. It did not illuminate the room. It rewrote the shadows. “This is not domination,” he said. “It is awareness.” The flame separated into five threads, each one pulsing softly like a heartbeat made of stars. They moved slowly…deliberately…And touched each of them between the brows.

“It must be buried inside the Temple. The First Flame wasn’t just a power—it was a prison.” “For what?” Kael asked. Rowan was quiet. Maelyra answered instead. “For Azthera’s last soul.” The room went cold. “You’re saying… the Flame God’s soul still exists?” Selene asked. Maelyra nodded. “Fragmented. Sealed. And the prophecy said: ‘the child who burns must open the way.’” Kael exhaled slowly. “Theron.” --- But Theron was just a boy. A boy who loved the taste of roasted berries, who collected sharp stones, who asked questions no child should know how to form.