Up From The Ashes Novels & Stories

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…"

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?

The sky darkens as if ash had found it too. Below, his laughter climbs—ruptured, furious, exultant. The pulse hammers through it, reminding even him: freedom is not a rule. --- POV: Ashmouth The world shakes. Chains lie in glowing shards, sinking into ash. My body is ruin—torn, bleeding, luminous. My laughter is ragged but alive. I lift my head. Shadows climb with me. Skulls orbit. Solara quakes; bells toll without hands. I grin through blood and ash.

LUCIAN’S POV Ashes on the Floor The private elevator opened directly into the quiet, polished luxury of my penthouse on the Upper East Side. For three years, I had walked into this apartment and felt nothing only the cold, silent structure of a life I managed like a portfolio. But tonight, as my boots heavy against the dark walnut floorboards, the silence didn't feel quiet. It felt like a corpse rotting in the room.

The clone fought it, scratched and clawed and fought, its black-silver blood boiling where the flames touched it, the smell of burning wrongness filling every inch of air. But it wasn’t enough. “You are formidable,” Asher said, his voice quiet now, almost gentle. His grip didn’t loosen. “But you are not the real thing.” The body crumbled. The head followed. The fire ate what was left until even the ashes were gone, and Asher was standing in the centre of the wreckage, adjusting his cuffs.

Each step felt lighter—the chains of her memories slowly disintegrating into the echoes of what once was. In that moment, Clara realized the ashes of her past were not an end but the foundation upon which she could build anew. The road ahead was uncertain, but for the first time, it was driven by her own choices, and she embraced that uncertainty with open arms. With every breath, she promised herself that she would rise from those ashes—stronger, wiser, and undeniably free.

Week 8 I visited my home yesterday. It’s burnt to the ground. Ash says he’ll pay me for the damages but he could never afford it... unless he can bring my family back to life. I’ll fix this place up for Merilee. She could have it when she’s grown up. If Ash’s mind thing worked, she’ll never remember the horrors it holds. Week 12 I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to, it just happened. I couldn’t hold back anymore! It wasn’t my fault.