Ashy Sky の小説・ストーリー

Ashlyn regarded him with a silent scowl, frustrated by how effortlessly he convinced her. "Do you want me to click some photos of yours?" he offered with a teasing glint. Ashlyn scoffed, dismissing the suggestion. Removing his hand from her shoulder, she took a step forward, her gaze fixated on the still surface of the water, occasionally interrupted by ripples cascading outward. As Elijah settled onto the ground, Ashlyn hesitated for a moment before joining him, her eyes drawn to the vast expanse of the cerulean sky, watching as the clouds meandered lazily.

The dark blue sky looks brighter now, while the scenery of the forest and its surroundings were filtered with vivid colours. “…I see.” I whispered to myself, unconsciously forming a smile. I missed Asher.

“And these first ones don’t count.” Young said as he laid her body across his lap. Asha whimpered, feeling the storm brewing with this new version of Young was going to match the one looming outside. The clouds had darkened from light and fluffy to threatening. The blue of the sky disappeared behind clouds that looked as if she could reach out and grab a piece of the yet to be storm and eat it up. Their usual out of reach position had suddenly transformed into a picture of what reverse surface tension looked like, weighing on the sky as if gravity would bring them down. When the sky got like this she would go out and relish in it, but with how Young was maneuvering her, Asha knew it was now

Several drop to one knee instinctively. Above Ashen Vale, the sky fractures in seconds—clouds spiraling inward unnaturally fast, gathering as if answering a call. No. As if commanded. Wind slams through the western sector, ripping through flames, bending trees sideways. Embers scatter. I feel it then. Power. Something that does not bow. Raw. Ancient. Uncontained. She lifts her chin slightly—and the sky obeys.

The sickly purple aura in the sky flickered and died, replaced by the natural, biting darkness of the Northern night. A thick, ringing silence fell over the ruins. I stood up. My knees were shaking so violently that I could barely support my own weight. I was covered in a thick layer of grey dust. "Ashren," I breathed, stumbling forward blindly through the settling debris. A massive silhouette rose from the edge of the crater. Ashren brushed the dirt from his broad shoulders. His tactical jacket was shredded. His knuckles were raw and bleeding. But he was breathing. The golden light in his eyes was steady and bright in the gloom.

Chapter Thirteen: Sister of Ash The sky had turned a deep, smoky gray, as though the heavens themselves mourned what was awakening beneath the soil. Seren stood at the edge of the crater, surrounded by the wreckage of her birthright and the screams of the cursed tree that once marked Black Hollow’s sacred heart. Her robes—dark blue with silver embroidery—fluttered with energy. She hadn’t aged past her early twenties, her presence defying time, her expression carved from stone.

The sky churned with unnatural clouds, dark as pitch and laced with flickers of violet lightning. The spire, black and jagged, pulsed with a rhythm that echoed like a heartbeat through the ground. All across the Ashen Vale, the battlefield had become a storm of chaos.

My magic was still humming beneath my skin, but the cool night air from the stairwell at least seemed to take the edge off. The cafeteria was mostly empty when I entered, with only a few lingering in the seats with late cups of tea or the last of dessert. In one of the corner tables, Ashleigh Dana sat alone, her hair silver that seemed almost luminous in the dim light, with faint streaks of amethyst swirling through. It caught the light like moonstone. She was nursing a mug of tea, tendrils of steam lazily curling up toward the ceiling. Her eyes flicked to me the second I stepped through the doors, a gleam of recognition in them. She raised one brow in invitation.

he reassured, sounding calmer now, steadier. They spent a little more time on the rooftop, letting the wind cool their emotions, letting the tension gradually dissolve. When they finally went back downstairs, Lia felt something she hadn’t felt in a while—hope. A small one, but still hope. From a distance, Asher watched them quietly. Jealousy surged through him like a sharp sting, but he stayed patient. For now. ---