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Ash Lake Dark Souls

From Ash To Aetherblade

"From Ash to Aetherblade": Ackah Emile lives in the sprawling city of Veridia, a place where the gap between the awakened Hunters and the powerless unawakened is a chasm. Struggling to support his mother, Abelema, and younger sister, Aya, after the death of his father, Ackah faces a daily battle against poverty and despair. The world beyond Veridia is a dangerous place, swarming with monsters, labyrinths, and dimensional rifts, where only the strong survive. When a sudden, violent awakening transforms Ackah into a "Sword Ascendant," he is granted the power to wield a blade of pure aetheric energy and transcend the limits of mortal swordsmanship. This newfound power offers a chance to escape his desperate circumstances, but it also thrusts him into a world of cutthroat guilds, powerful nations, and ancient threats. Ackah must learn to master his abilities, navigating the treacherous political landscape of the twenty superpower countries, each vying for dominance. He faces monstrous hordes, battles corrupt guild leaders, and confronts the ever-present threat of void invasions. Along the way, he forms alliances with other Hunters, uncovers ancient secrets, and faces moral dilemmas that test his resolve. As Ackah rises from the ashes of his past, he amasses wealth and power, establishing his own guild, the "Rift Walkers," and forging a legend that will echo through the ages. "From Ash to Aetherblade" is a tale of action, adventure, and the transformative power of will, where a young man, armed with a blade of pure energy, carves his own destiny in a world teetering on the brink of chaos.
Frank_Emile_Ackah · 8.2K Views

Setting souls

The two men couldn't have looked more out of place on the cold afternoon streets of New Hadepee. The first was a scrawny fellow, no taller than five foot eight, wearing a white shirt marred with ugly reddish-brown stains and a pair of plain tan pants. His companion, by contrast, carried himself with an air of quiet authority—a regal-looking man with a neatly trimmed black beard, wrapped in a great black coat with a red scarf pulled snug around his neck. "I heard the man himself has come back," the one in the stained shirt said, carefully balancing on the curb with his arms outstretched. "Oh? And where did you hear that?" his companion asked, turning his head with amusement to watch the precarious balancing act. "Welp, the sergeant major told me to go down to Olker, so I figured that could only mean he's back," the man in the white shirt replied. "Vistor has close cultural and political ties with the kingdom of Olker. Don't you think it's just a protection job?" the older man in black inquired, a hint of humor in his voice. "Oh, come on, Mang, you know they'd never give someone like me a protection job," the man in the white shirt scoffed, jumping off the curb and spinning around a lamppost. The older man—now known as Mang—came to a halt, reaching into his coat and pulling out an envelope. "Well, Tai, I suppose you're wrong." Mang handed the envelope to him. Tai peeled open the envelope, sliding out the letter and studying it carefully. "Oh wow, so Marlin is marrying the queen of those people?" he asked with a shrug. "She is not a queen. Don't let anyone call her that," Mang snapped. "And if her people weren't so damn difficult, we would have annexed them already." "So we let them succeed but not Gascon? Whose idea was that? They're more like us than those humans are," Tai said, frowning. "Gascon was willing to sell to the Emperor for a small chunk of change," Mang quipped. "The Noctrous family was not." "Ok so what's that matter, all we need is a little persuasion to change their minds? We killed the chief of Gnomandale and sent his stuffed head back to them, then they sold Gnomendale to us. All we need to do to get Olker is beat the hell out of Sylvie and she will sell." Tai folds the letter and places it back into the envelope. "Tai, the people of Vistor don't have the heart to see us beat up the Eladrin people like we did the Gnomes, and plus their Chief tramp Silvye is much too pretty for us to put her head on a stick."  "Welp, it's our loss," Tai muttered, spitting onto the sidewalk. "No, it's not. Not if Chester is back…" Tai frowned. "What's Chester gonna do?" "Last I recall, his fallout with Sylvie wasn't just a petty disagreement. Before he died, he built a fleet of ships and hid them in a cove somewhere. If he wanted revenge, all he'd need is an army." "And who the hell would fight for him?" "The same people who fight for us—the poor." This is a prequel to Then Maker, another story of mine. The writing may feel somewhat outdated compared to my more recent work, but it consists of a series of scenes that occur before the main events of the novel. The description is one of my most recent pieces, which is why it differs in style from the rest of the book.
Thornton_Chase · 1.6K Views

Ash Runner

In the Ashen Reach, a cursed wasteland of black dunes and ember-storms, Torv “Ash” Kren runs alone, hauling glowing ember-shards in a battered sled. Once a raider, he quit when his crew torched innocence—now he trades magic fuel for water, machete chipped, coat patched, one job from death. An ember-storm cracks his sled—shards spill—when Lysa “Ember” Vey stumbles from the haze, half-dead, clutching a red-hot Core Ember worth a fortune or a grave. Lysa’s an ash-witch—bends shards into fire-blades, hunted by warlord Krax for a 10,000-shard bounty. She offers Torv 2,000 to run her to the Free Drift, rebel camp past the Dune Wall—or leave him dry in the sand. Torv’s gut says ditch her—warlord’s hounds close—but her ember buys time, and his Ash Runner Sense wakes: kills earn miles, power grows. They trek—raiders bleed, storms burn—Torv’s machete sings (+500 miles, Dune Dash), Lysa’s fire cuts deep. Krax’s dogs tear closer—ember-teeth glint—when the Core cracks, whispering: “Free me, claim all.” Truth hits: Lysa’s bounty’s fake—Krax wants the Core that cursed the Reach. Torv’s past crew died for it—he’s bound to the ash. Miles climb (Ash Veil, 1,000)—lungs scar, Lysa’s shard burns her grip. At the Dune Wall, Krax looms—Torv carves, Lysa flares—Core shatters, Reach shakes. Warlord falls—shards rain—but Torv’s ash-coated, Lysa’s bleeding. A new ember glows west—next run calls. Grind, fire, survival—will Torv and Lysa outrun the curse, or burn in it?
Javu_Anele · 2.9K Views
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