Novel & Cerita Up From The Ashes

she asked nervously, scared that he would say no. Matteo’s lips curved, slow and certain. "Sure we are friends now so we would definitely hang out together " . . . . . . . . . Across the city, Aubrey wiped her forehead with the back of her hand as she straightened the bed sheets in one of the mansion’s many rooms. Her new job wasn’t easy, but it paid better than anything she’d ever had before. The mansion’s owner, a sophisticated businesswoman, barely made appearances, and the work mostly involved keeping the estate spotless.

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!

killed me? Fuck this. I cannot allow myself to sit here and spiral into a dark hole of self pity. I sit up and swing my legs over the bed in one swoop. I pad over to my wardrobe and grab my running gear that I was so graciously gifted to me from this shit ass school. A black sports bra with matching black leggings. Simple, yet effective.

I wonder if he's been keeping them sedated. A few moments later, and my mom has managed to make it up. I reach down and grab her hand, to help pull her up. Just as she manages to make it, another explosion takes place. The ceiling above us begins to crash to the floor. Timber and flames rain down on us.

"Please, Ryan, don't do this. He's your son! Please, don't take this from me!" But Ryan's mind was filled with anger and betrayal. He opened the urn and began to pour the ashes onto the ground. "No!" Sophia wailed, her cries echoing through the cemetery. She lunged forward, her hands clawing at the ashes as they scattered. The gray powder clung to her hair and skin, mixing with her tears as she wept uncontrollably. She pressed her head to the ground, her body trembling with sorrow. "My baby," she sobbed, her voice barely audible. "I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry…"

And from the ashes— A queen walked away.

Ashara’s black eyes met hers. “Of ruin. Of fire. Of the world that once was.” And far below, in the shadows of the valley, the Prophetess raised her hands and whispered: **“Let the ashes rise.”**

But it was impossible not to remember. “I’m sorry, Asher. I’m so sorry...” Asher had spent two years building himself back from ashes. He’d changed his name, his country, his entire world, just to never feel that kind of devastation again. And now? He was watching the same man who destroyed him… being destroyed. There was a part of him, a darker, colder part, that almost welcomed it. Good. Let him see what it feels like to be burned alive. But the rest of him?