Wandering Noble Ashes Novels & Stories

He stands behind me, arms crossed, a shadow refusing to be drawn in. The old rogue begins to speak. “She came in the season between the moons. The one with no name. The one where wolves forgot their howls. She wore no crown. No mate-mark. No Alpha’s scent.” The hum continues beneath her voice, like breath rising from old earth. “She walked alone into the Bone Lands, where no pack claimed the soil. Her hands bled spiral. Her eyes burned red. Her name was ash. Her tether already severed.” A shiver ripples through the pack. No one looks at me.

Aisha looked down at the notebooks. At the life contained inside them. At the family that had never existed. And for the first time since arriving at Belle Vue, she felt something unexpected. Not professional curiosity. Not clinical interest. Something far more dangerous. Compassion. Because somewhere inside those pages she had glimpsed a lonely man constructing an entire universe simply so he wouldn't have to face the possibility of being completely alone. And somehow that felt more heartbreaking than any illness. The rain continued falling outside. Far across the hospital, Arman sat beside his window writing another chapter of a life that had never happened.

I said softer this time “Let me go before it’s too late” And just like that I left them --- The Ashen Teeth were not marked on any map But I followed the dream fragments that haunted me the symbols I couldn’t stop sketching in the dirt when I slept Three days alone No fire No howls Just the wind and my thoughts tearing themselves apart By the time I reached the temple my boots were bloodstained and my soul frayed at the edges It rose from the cliffs like a jagged wound a structure forged of ash glass and bones not carved but grown as though the land had been forced to birth it

One whispered a prayer under his breath - to the Moon Goddess, or to anything that might still be listening. The mist didn’t rise anymore. It fell. Fine grains of silver ash drifted from the canopy like snow. “What the hell is that?” one of the Ashmoon warriors muttered. I reached out. Caught a flake on my palm. It didn’t melt. It pulsed once - then vanished into my skin. I jerked, breath catching. Something whispered in my head, low and sharp. A word I didn’t understand, and an image - of roots winding deep, deep into black earth. And bones. Bones instead of fruit hanging from the branches above.

"She's the leader of the hunters faction, she might look so timid and all but I've seen the real her once,she's a devil in disguise" "I won't disagree to that but whatever alliance that has been forged is now terminated I won't have that" *************************************** ARTHUR "May he be accepted up and beyond , may his sons come forward for the final act" I walk towards looking dready and worn out from the tears, Asher follows in suit looking just as dreadful, we both hold a torch setting his corpse which has been adorned with beads and flowers on fire, "Boys get your acts together for your mum" We both walk away from the burning corpse proceeding to the packhouse and the others fol

Damon The snow at the border was gray with ash. The wind carried the stench of iron and burnt fur, ghosts of the battle that had finally ended. The Rogues who hadn’t fled now lay scattered across the ground, their bodies dark smudges against the pale landscape. And in the middle of it all, they dragged him to me. Asher. He stumbled between two guards, head bowed, wrists bound in silver. His once-pristine armor hung in jagged pieces from his shoulders, dull with soot and blood. But his eyes… those hadn’t changed. Still sharp. Still furious.

Gribble nodded enthusiastically before scuttling away to polish the skulls (which were purely decorative; Vespera had bought them at a discount from a necromancer estate sale). Vespera looked out the massive arched window. Below, the Ashlands stretched out—a landscape of cooling lava flows and jagged rock. To the humans of the Kingdom of Solara, this was Hell. To the outcasts, the beast-kin, and the monsters hunted for sport by "Heroes," it was the only safe harbor left. "They’re coming," Vespera whispered, sensing the disturbance in the ley lines. The heavy iron doors at the end of the hall didn't open. They exploded.

“What do you know? They will surely reward us for successfully delivering the herbs needed for the worship ritual.” “Of course, the herbs are needed for burning the ritual treasures in accordance to our kingdom’s tradition.” “Okay, let’s settle down first and pass the package first before finding an inn.” The middle-aged uncle calmed down his subordinates as he ordered the few of them to carry out the secured wooden crates. Asha did not wait for them to come over before leaving the carriage herself. But the burst of numbness forced her to half-kneel on the ground as her hands supported her upper body from fully falling down on her face.

Gray and heavy. I pulled my cloak tighter. The ash got through everything. It was in my hair. In my clothes. Under my nails. "Tell me again why we came this way," I said. Ronan stopped walking. Turned to look at me. His eyes were red from the dust. "Because the other paths are watched," he said. "This place... they avoid it." I knew why. Everyone knew the stories. The Ash Plains used to be green. Full of life. Then came the war. Magic burned everything. Left only death behind.

They came back a few minutes later and we immediately portaled into our realm. We got to the realm; it was still in ruins from the last fight. “Where do you think Ashera's grave would be?” Bruno asked. “Somewhere in the woods,” I responded. We dashed towards the wood, and when we got to a particular spot that was probably Ashera's grave, we met a gaping hole in the ground. The coffin was now exposed, and the lid of the coffin was lifted, revealing the bones and garment of Ashera. The air was thick with the scent of decay and rot, and as we observed it, we noticed something strange.