Jett didn’t look surprised when she heard Emma asked.. If anything, she looked like she had been expecting the question.

  “Well…” she began slowly, her tone shifting gentler, almost reverent. She placed her hand softly against the frozen ground, the magical particles glowing brighter around her as her voice lowered.

  “I’ll say it… just the way I was told.”

  She took a deep breath. A soft inhale, then a long, calming exhale.

  “Ash of Creation… The First Ash,” she recited, her voice echoing faintly off the cave walls. “The ember that glowed before existence and non-existence. Before reality was even recorded into being.”

  As her words sank into the air, the pink magical particles around her palm began to shift, like they understood the story. They drew closer together, tightening in motion, until they began forming something physical. Slowly, delicately, a frame began to appear on the stone floor, a square made of soft glowing light, outlined in gentle strokes of particle fire.

  It was the outline of a campfire.

  Emma leaned in unconsciously, her fingers curling against the stone beneath her.

  From the center of the frame, flames rose. Not real fire, but not illusion either. It burned with no smoke, its shape full of life and motion, colored in warm pinks and faint silvers. The warmth it gave off wasn’t hot, but comforting. A quiet hum filled the air around it, as if the cave itself was holding its breath.

  “From it,” Jett continued, her voice steady now, “all things and everything can be created. The foundations, founded and unfounded. The unbound laws. The shaped and unshaped. The created and uncreated. Imaginable and the unimaginable…”

  The flickering flames danced in rhythm with her words.

  “It creates not just anything,” she said, “not just thought… but the very fabric of possibility. And impossibilities. What is, what was… what could never, and what could ever be…”

  The last word lingered in the air like a spell.

  The fire burned brighter.

  And then, from within it, something rose.

  Particles shifted again, gathering above the fire, forming slowly, first a haze, then a shape, then… clarity.

  It was fish.

  Fresh fish.

  Three of them. Glimmering faintly with a silver sheen, their scales reflecting the light of the fire as they hovered gently over it in midair, slowly roasting from the flame below. A faint sizzle could be heard.. the sound of warmth finally reaching hunger.

  The scent followed.

  Subtle. Delicate. Enough to make Ron’s mouth open slightly in awe without realizing it.

  Emma blinked, her body still, her hands resting gently on her knees as her lips parted.

  So this… was Ash of Creation.

  Not just fire. Not just magic. But something older. Something that remembered the ultimate beginning.

  Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  And yet…

  It still made food for hungry stomachs.

  She let her fingers lightly brush against the frosted stone beneath her, grounding herself in the moment as her unique white eyes stayed fixed on the flame.

  This wasn’t just wonder.

  It was real.

  ****

  Jett’s eyes glowed faintly with the gentle hue of the firelight, her voice low and thoughtful as she continued... the words leaving her lips, each one carrying a quiet weight.

  “To wield it…” she said, her breath trailing softly in the icy air, “is to stand at the origin that can create all things. To write upon the blank slate of a board...”

  Her words didn’t just fill the space, they etched themselves into it.

  The flame before them flickered with soft intensity, casting a tender glow across their faces and making shadows dance gently on the icy cave walls. Everyone sat in near silence, only the occasional crackle from the magical fire weaving sound between their thoughts.

  “Even concept,” Jett continued slowly, “and un-concepts can be created. For the Ash of Creation… it does not destroy. It precedes destruction.” She paused, letting the sentence echo.

  “It does not build… it defines what building is.... The first spark. The last whisper…” She lifted her eyes slightly, their pale gray depths reflecting the flame as she whispered the final part.

  “The only Truth…”

  She let the words hang.

  “…The Ash of Creation.”

  A moment passed.

  Then...

  Clap! Clap!

  Ron, her younger brother, gave a playful round of applause from where he sat cross-legged on the frozen floor, his small hands clapping with exaggerated grace and a grin that could split the wind.

  “Perfectly recited from the book,” he said with a chuckle, half-laughing, half-mocking, his gray eyes dancing with teasing joy as he leaned back on his palms.

  Jett narrowed her eyes... but only playfully as her fingers twitched.

  With a quiet thought, the pink particles around her sparked again. A tiny gust of air gathered into her hand and solidified into a soft, white snowball in less than a second. No words needed. No chants. Just will.

  “Ron,” she said, smiling sweetly.

  “Eh?” he blinked.

  Puff!

  The snowball hit him square on the chest, scattering into a fine spray of icy dust and laughter. His small body jerked slightly from the light impact, and then he broke into another round of giggles.

  “Jeez!” he cried out between laughs, brushing snow from his shirt...

  Jett laughed along him, her shoulders relaxing as her voice echoed warmly through the cold cave. For a brief moment, the walls didn’t feel frozen anymore.

  Emma, though, wasn’t laughing.

  Not because she didn’t enjoy the moment.. but because her mind had become still, like the space between a heartbeat. Her unique white eyes were fixed on the firelight, but her thoughts had drifted far inward.

  Ash of Creation…

  The phrase repeated in her mind, like the haunting refrain of a song she once knew but couldn’t quite remember. The way Jett described it, it sounded familiar. Deeply familiar.

  The ability to create anything?

  Possible… and impossible?

  Her breath caught lightly.

  Wait…

  Her hand slowly lifted from her lap. The sleeve of her dark blue shirt crinkled slightly as she brought it close to her eyes.

  It’s just like… my power manifestation ability… she thought slowly. To manifest anything… even things that shouldn’t exist…

  Realization hit her like soft thunder, echoing across her thoughts.

  That means… my manifestation ability… it comes from Ash of Creation?

  Her eyes widened slightly.

  But then her brows pulled together.

  Why didn’t Luna tell me this?

  Her chest rose with a small inhale.

  Was it on purpose? Did she want me to discover it for myself...?

  The questions stirred and twisted like wind through falling snow, too many to catch, too few to ignore.

  She let her gaze drift downward, her fingers unfurling gently, palm facing upward.

  But I also remember...

  She bit her lip lightly.

  Luna said that my manifestation was different from the normal kind.

  Was she wrong...?

  Or am I just confusing myself...?

  She exhaled gently, her breath fogging before her lips.

  Emma stared at her palm for a moment longer before slowly lowering it.

  Across from her, Jett was smiling quietly again, her fingers moving over the fire as a faint shimmer formed in the air. From the glowing pink particles, something else was taking shape... brown bread.

  Just like ordinary bread.

  It hovered just above the flame like the fish had, suspended by unseen threads of something like magic, slowly toasting as the soft crackling of the fire met the faint smell of warmth.

  A soft golden crust began to form over the sides, puffing slightly as it roasted, while pink particles swirled lazily around it like seasoning in the wind.

  Emma’s eyes softened at the sight, though her mind was still distant, circling the truth like the fire circled warmth.

  The Ash of Creation.

  So gentle. So profound.

  And somehow… so close to her.. like it had been there all along...

  https://patreon.com/P_Magno (35+ Chapters Ahead)

  https://discord.gg/k9MA7ZUQGJ