CHAPTER 4: EMBERS ON THE WIND
251 Words
The night air hit Nyra like a slap, cool and sharp as she burst out of the Archive’s ancient doors. Behind her, bells clanged — the alarm. Lanterns flared to life along the outer walls of Emberhold, painting the cobbled streets in flickering gold.
“Stop her!” a guard roared.
Nyra’s breath came in ragged gasps. The Book of Ashes thudded against her chest, hidden beneath her cloak. The ember within her pulsed harder, like a second heartbeat.
Faster. Go faster.
She darted down a narrow alley, sparks trailing from her boots. A bolt thudded into the wall beside her, scattering stone dust.
The city blurred past — smoky chimneys, shuttered windows, the glow of tavern fires. She felt the dragon soul watching through her eyes, silent now but alert.
I need to hide. I need time to think.
The alleys twisted and turned, and Nyra’s feet carried her to the one place no one would follow — the ruins of the Old Temple, where fire first fell from the sky. The place was cursed, or so the city folk whispered. But to Nyra, it felt like home.
She stumbled inside, heart pounding, and collapsed behind a broken altar. The Book of Ashes thrummed softly, warm against her skin.
“Why me?” she whispered into the dark. “Why did you choose me?”
No answer came.
Only the soft crackle of the ember deep within her — and the knowledge that her life was no longer her own.
- Writer
