The Ashes Of His Name Novels & Stories

And now I knew she was alive. Or at least, she had been. Her name was Dahlia Renner. She was somewhere in Ashford Hollow. “She’s alive.” The words came out barely above a whisper. I looked at Teo. “She’s alive. Ashford Hollow. My father knew where she was all this time.” Teo went still. “Ashford Hollow,” he repeated. He said it slowly, as if the name itself meant something. “Elias, listen to me.” I waited. “If your father wrote that name down nineteen years ago and never went after her himself, there was a reason. It wasn’t only because he was afraid of leading someone to her.”

Pulling me deeper. My breath hitches when I see him. Asher. He stands beneath a crooked tree, one hand clutching his side. Blood stains his shirt, soaking into his fingers. I freeze. “Asher?” I whisper. He looks up at me, eyes glassy and full of pain. “You weren’t there when I needed you.” “No,” I breathe, stumbling forward. “That’s not true—I didn’t know—” But he’s already sinking to his knees, blood pooling beneath him. His body crumples, still and silent.

It had changed him, in the end. “Use the shadows to travel, they’ll take you both where you need to go.” I assured them, turning my face to the moon. Cold, churning power swirled in the air. Through every pine needle and fallen leaf, carried on the frigid breeze that rustled the branches and made the forest groan. The sliver of silver in the sky, bathing the world in silver light and endless energy, it stoked the icy rage that came whenever I pictured her face. Her gemstone eyes were wide and fearful, but they still held that fire—it was the first thing for which I had searched. “If you find him, you know where to meet. His name is Ash, and he’s a bartender at Obsidian.” “May the best man wi

“It suits you. Maybe that was your name ! You don’t like it?” I hesitated, staring at the blackened wood I would just pull from the hearth. “I don’t know,” I muttered. “Maybe. Maybe it fits because I feel like something burned down… and all that is left is smoke.” She looked up then, really looked at me. “Sometimes,” she said gently, “ashes are what we rise from.” The words stayed with me long after she left the room. But no name…Ash, Paul, or any other…could fill the void inside me. My head was still a mess of fragments. Whispers in the dark. Screams. A girl crying out. A hand reaching for mine before the fall.

Ash was thrown backward, his body hitting the ice floor with a heavy thud. "Ash!" Rhea shrieked, struggling against the invisible weight pinning her to the altar. "Are you okay? Talk to me!" Ash scrambled to his feet, his breath coming in ragged, whistling gasps. He held his hands out in front of him. The skin from his fingertips to his wrists was gone, replaced by a raw, blackened char that shimmered with violet embers. The "cold-fire" had eaten through his flesh down to the bone in a matter of seconds.

Just then Queen Morgan clutched his head with her fingers. His body turned to ash, scattering on the blood-soaked ground. Raven’s cry was inhuman. Ara, her wolf, howled through her… it was a sound of raw, soul-deep rage. “Brother!” I heard Asher scream, his voice hoarse with disbelief and heartbreak. But I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t even breathe. I stood frozen in the middle of battle, staring at the ashes where Ansel had once been. My brother.. even with his flaws, even though he had lost his path ..but still my blood.. and now he was gone.

“You weren’t authorized.” The man grins. “I never am.” I recognize him before he speaks again. Not by face—by weight. By the way the city pulls away from him like it doesn’t want to be noticed. “Name’s Ash,” he says. “Protagonist, depending who you ask.” Jonas’s voice goes flat. “You’re supposed to be off-grid.” “Yeah,” Ash replies. “So are ghosts.” He looks at me then. Really looks. No reverence. No calculation. Just recognition.

As if the moon goddess was ignoring them. As if the moon goddess turned her back. “Lady Adeline!” A crisp sound of something tearing woke her senses, and yet as soon as she looked up, droplets of fresh blood splattered on her face, numbing her mind. Her irises narrowed as she stared blankly at the clouded eyes of the head of who had once baked the cookies she would sneak in her room at night. Her hands shook and her heart trembled, and despite the haywire in his mind, all she could ever utter out was the name of someone who was no more:

He calls out but I don't stop until he jogged up to me and blocked my way with his tall six feet frame. Shorter than Zion. Wait..what did he said his name was? Draz West.So he is the youngest son of Late Luna Christine.No wonder she was concerned for him. "You're Draz?" I said, frowning when I catch the irritation in his eyes. "Drax.Do I spell it for you?" His tone clipped with sheer annoyance. C'mon not my fault that he has a unique name and I only heard it once.Why get so mad? "Weird that you are mad about mispronunciation of your name rather than the accident I caused"

His eyes were a dull amber as he looked at me with concern. "She is not weak merely tired and when she's rested she will lash out and avenge her..." My head spun again. This time he didn't try to hold me. Good. I do not need to be that weak Maggie anymore. "Fine. Well...my name is Asher and you're?" I looked over my shoulder at him. "Dead. I am dead." No sooner had I said that before my feet gave way under me and I slumped helplessly to the ground.