Tarnished Embers Book Novels & Stories

“And the one who holds your heart? Would she still hold it… if she saw these pieces?” I do not even hesitate. “She holds the worst of me,” I say. “And loves me still.” The flames die. The Emberroot pulses once, then lifts from the earth, curling into a sealed bud of light, warm and flickering like a heartbeat. “You passed,” Inferno murmurs, voice proud. “That boy at the gates? He’s ash now.”

*Ember* The days dragged on in the suffocating confines of the breeder’s room. My spirit was fading like a dying ember. Weakness gnawed at me, and my body ached with every movement. The dim light of the day barely illuminated the corners of the room, casting elongated shadows that seemed to mirror my own sense of despair. How long had it been since Lukas last came in and forced me to use the last of my strength? I didn’t know. I couldn’t even count the days by how many times he came in to yell at me.

she vowed. Together, they watched the last flickers die—not in darkness, but in the promise of dawn yet to come Epilogue The Ember That Remains The embers pulsed low in the ceremonial brazier, casting soft golden light across the stone walls of the newly built Ember Hall. Around them, shelves filled with reclaimed manuscripts and recovered sigils whispered of ancient wisdom not hoarded, but shared. A circle of chairs stood unoccupied for now, waiting not for secrecy, but for seekers.

The lock clicked, loud in the silence. The shower water burned, a desperate attempt to wash away the night. Ava scrubbed her skin red, but his scent lingered. She stared at her flushed face and wide, scared eyes in the steamy mirror. What did I do? Dressed, she avoided her reflection. The room felt charged, heavy with unspoken words. She couldn't face him yet. She needed time, space. Sunlight, sharp and bright, hit Lucas's face. Ava gasped, a tiny sound. "Damn," she whispered, rushing to the window, fumbling with the heavy drapes. She pulled them shut, making the room dim again.

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.

The air trembled, heat rippling through it like a heartbeat. My eyes snapped open just as the magic ignited. Fire erupted beneath me, racing up the walls, devouring the air. I stumbled up, choking on smoke. Ember stood in the center of the room, framed by the blaze, her silhouette sharp and perfect against the light. Her eyes burned with both colors now—black and gold—and her smile was something beautiful and terrifying. “You should’ve never trusted the flame.”

It shimmered like heat seen through water. “This is a Hearthglass,” she explained, setting it carefully on the ground between them. “It was used in older Ember cultures—pre-Sterling eras—to reflect fire memories. Sometimes, firebinders forgot their most formative burns. This pulls echoes from their cells, blood, voice, even bone.” Emma frowned. “But if Irsi truly destroyed the memory—” “She didn’t,” Sarah cut in. “She twisted it. Muddied the link.” Steve nodded. “Which means the ember inside you still remembers. Even if your mind doesn’t.”

"Gina told me. She's told me of most of the mercenary groups. Of Greenbush, and Hedgeshadow. Of Pondgrass, and Merriway. All powerful, deceptive, and fierce in battle. Yet, none as powerful as the Night Witch." Talks like this made Karl hard, but thanks to the heat of Lexi's cherry, it provided just enough heat to keep him from aching out in pain, and thanks to her tender ministration, and the rhythmic movement of her body against him. Slow and steady. "I like this beautiful feel of you," Karl said. "I am holding back my pleasure." "And you are driving me mad." ***

The Keeper’s Ember pulsed gently at her side. “This fire,” she said softly, “has passed through hands bloodied by war, cracked by grief, and strengthened by love.” She looked from face to face. “But now, it passes into yours.” One by one, she approached the carriers, touching the orb gently to their flames. Each ember grew—not with force, but with resonance, a subtle harmony of light and memory. When she reached the final carrier, a boy no older than twelve from the Southern Caverns, he leaned forward and whispered, “I will remember you.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN – “The Kiss That Burns” The Emberfall garden lay hushed in the night, its roses glowing faintly with emberlight. Moonlight spilled in fractured streams across the stone paths, but even the pale glow of the sky seemed dull compared to the restless shimmer of the fire-roses. Their petals pulsed faintly, ember veins flickering as if they, too, were listening for something.