An Ember in the Ashes Quotes

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An Ember in the Ashes Quotes
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“When Hel and I were Fivers, a Barbarian raiding party took us prisoner. I was trussed like a festival-day goat, but they tied Helene's hands in front of her with twine and propped her on the back of a pony, assuming she was harmless. That night, she used the twine to garrote three of our jailers and broke the necks of the other three with her bare hands.
“They always underestimate me,” she said afterward, sounding puzzled.”
― An Ember in the Ashes
“They always underestimate me,” she said afterward, sounding puzzled.”
― An Ember in the Ashes
“The voice is deep and soft, not a sound so much as a feeling. It is storm and wind and leaves twisting in the night. It is roots sucking deep at the earth, and the pale, sightless creatures that live below the ground. But there’s something wrong with this voice, something diseased at its core.”
― An Ember in the Ashes
― An Ember in the Ashes
“Fight back, Laia. For Darin. For Izzi. For every Scholar this beast has abused. Fight. A scream bursts from me, and I claw at Marcus’s face, but a punch to my stomach takes the wind out of my lungs. I double over, retching, and his knee comer up into my forehead. The hallway spins, and I drop to my knees. Then I hear him laughting, a sadistic chuckle that stokes my defiance.
Sluggishly, I throw myself at his legs. It won’t be like before, like during the raid when I let that Mask drag me about my own house like some dead thing.
This time, I’ll fight. Tooth and nail, I’ll fight.”
― An Ember in the Ashes
Sluggishly, I throw myself at his legs. It won’t be like before, like during the raid when I let that Mask drag me about my own house like some dead thing.
This time, I’ll fight. Tooth and nail, I’ll fight.”
― An Ember in the Ashes
“So my choices are to stay and be evil or to run and be evil. Wonderful.”
― An Ember in the Ashes
― An Ember in the Ashes
“When the fear takes over, use the only thing more powerful, more indestructible, to fight it: your spirit. Your heart.”
― An Ember in the Ashes
― An Ember in the Ashes
“For tonight, maybe we can just be Laia and Elias.”
― An Ember in the Ashes
― An Ember in the Ashes
“The tapping grows insistent, and I turn, intending to tell off the Cadet. Instead, I'm faced with a slave-girl looking up at me through impossibly long eyelashes. A heated, visceral shock flares through me at the clarity of her dark gold eyes. For a second, I forget my name.
I've never seen her before, because if I had, I'd remember. Despite the heavy silver cuffs and high, painful-looking bun that mark all of Blackcliff's drudges, nothing about her says slave. Her black dress fits her like a glove, sliding over every curve in a way that makes more than one head turn. Her full lips and fine, straight nose would be the envy of most girls, Scholar or not. I stare at her, realize I'm staring, tell myself to stop staring, and then keep staring. My breath falters, and my body, traitor that is, tugs me forward until there are only inches between us.
“Asp-aspirant Veturius.”
It's the way she says my name—like it's something to fear—that brings me back to myself. Pull it together, Veturius. I step away, appalled at myself when I see the terror in her eyes.
“What is it?” I ask calmly.”
― An Ember in the Ashes
I've never seen her before, because if I had, I'd remember. Despite the heavy silver cuffs and high, painful-looking bun that mark all of Blackcliff's drudges, nothing about her says slave. Her black dress fits her like a glove, sliding over every curve in a way that makes more than one head turn. Her full lips and fine, straight nose would be the envy of most girls, Scholar or not. I stare at her, realize I'm staring, tell myself to stop staring, and then keep staring. My breath falters, and my body, traitor that is, tugs me forward until there are only inches between us.
“Asp-aspirant Veturius.”
It's the way she says my name—like it's something to fear—that brings me back to myself. Pull it together, Veturius. I step away, appalled at myself when I see the terror in her eyes.
“What is it?” I ask calmly.”
― An Ember in the Ashes
“She has no idea how pretty she is—or what kind of problems her beauty will cause for her at a place like Blackcliff. The wind pulls at her hair again, and I catch her scent—like fruit and sugar.”
― An Ember in the Ashes
― An Ember in the Ashes
“My brother is still fighting, and his screams slice right through me. I know then that I will hear them over and over again, echoing in every hour of every day until I am dead or I make it right. I know it.”
― An Ember in the Ashes
― An Ember in the Ashes
“Are the Trials starting?” The girl claps her hands over her mouth. “I'm sorry,” she whispers. “I—”
“It's all right.” I don't smile at her. It will only scare her. For a female slave, a smile from a Mask is not usually a good thing. “I'm actually wondering the same thing. What's your name?”
“S-slave-Girl.” Of course. My mother would already have scourged her name out of existence.
“Right. You work for the Commandant?” I want her to say no. I want her to say that my mother roped her into this. I want her to say she's assigned to the kitchens or infirmary, where slaves aren't scarred or missing body parts.
But the girl nods in response to my question. Don't let my mother break you, I think. The girl meets my eyes, and there is that feeling again, low and hot and consuming. Don't be weak. Fight. Escape.
A gust of wind whips a strand free from her bun and across her cheekbone. Defiance flashes across her face as she holds my gaze, and for a second, I see my own desire for freedom mirrored, intensified in her eyes. It's something I've never detected in the eyes of a fellow student, let alone a Scholar slave. For one strange moment, I feel less alone.
But then she looks down, and I wonder at my own naiveté. She can't fight. She can't scape. Not from Blackcliff. I smile joylessly; in this, at least, the slave and I are more similar than she'll ever know.”
― An Ember in the Ashes
“It's all right.” I don't smile at her. It will only scare her. For a female slave, a smile from a Mask is not usually a good thing. “I'm actually wondering the same thing. What's your name?”
“S-slave-Girl.” Of course. My mother would already have scourged her name out of existence.
“Right. You work for the Commandant?” I want her to say no. I want her to say that my mother roped her into this. I want her to say she's assigned to the kitchens or infirmary, where slaves aren't scarred or missing body parts.
But the girl nods in response to my question. Don't let my mother break you, I think. The girl meets my eyes, and there is that feeling again, low and hot and consuming. Don't be weak. Fight. Escape.
A gust of wind whips a strand free from her bun and across her cheekbone. Defiance flashes across her face as she holds my gaze, and for a second, I see my own desire for freedom mirrored, intensified in her eyes. It's something I've never detected in the eyes of a fellow student, let alone a Scholar slave. For one strange moment, I feel less alone.
But then she looks down, and I wonder at my own naiveté. She can't fight. She can't scape. Not from Blackcliff. I smile joylessly; in this, at least, the slave and I are more similar than she'll ever know.”
― An Ember in the Ashes
“You will be chained to the darkness within yourself as surely as if chained to the walls of a prison cell.”
― An Ember in the Ashes
― An Ember in the Ashes
“You will burn for you are an ember in the ashes”
― An Ember in the Ashes
― An Ember in the Ashes
“Rage colors her every movement. Rage that has nothing to do with her so-called bodyguards and everything to do with me and her and the confusion rolling around inside the both of us.
This should be interesting”
― An Ember in the Ashes
This should be interesting”
― An Ember in the Ashes
“Three thousand bodies swing forward, three thousand pairs of boots snap together, three thousand backs jerk as if yanked straight by a puppeteer's hand. In the ensuing silence, you could hear a tear drop.”
― An Ember in the Ashes
― An Ember in the Ashes
“Laia is the wild dance of a Tribal campfire, while Helene is the cold blue of an alchemist’s flame.”
― An Ember in the Ashes
― An Ember in the Ashes
“So many bleeding, stupid questions. Do girls think like this all the time? No wonder they’re so confusing.”
― An Ember in the Ashes
― An Ember in the Ashes
“All evil here. Monsters. Little monsters and then big ones.”
― An Ember in the Ashes
― An Ember in the Ashes
“We match each other stroke for stroke until I get a hit on her right arm.
She tries to switch sword arms, but I jab my scim at her wrist faster than she can parry. Her scim goes flying, and I tackle her. Her white-blonde hair tumbles free of her bun.
“Surrender!” I pin her down at the wrists, but she trashes and rips one arm free, scrabbling for a dagger at her waist. Steel stabs at my ribs, and seconds later, I am on my back with a blade at my throat.
“Ha!” She leans down, her hair falling around us like a shimmering silver curtain.”
― An Ember in the Ashes
She tries to switch sword arms, but I jab my scim at her wrist faster than she can parry. Her scim goes flying, and I tackle her. Her white-blonde hair tumbles free of her bun.
“Surrender!” I pin her down at the wrists, but she trashes and rips one arm free, scrabbling for a dagger at her waist. Steel stabs at my ribs, and seconds later, I am on my back with a blade at my throat.
“Ha!” She leans down, her hair falling around us like a shimmering silver curtain.”
― An Ember in the Ashes
“After I pull my eyes away from her, I realize that I'm not the only one dumbstruck. Many of the young men around me sneak glances at her. She doesn't seem to notice, which, of course, makes her all the more intriguing.”
― An Ember in the Ashes
― An Ember in the Ashes
“She's still clinging to the side of her mountain, just like I'm still wandering lost in my battlefield.”
― An Ember in the Ashes
― An Ember in the Ashes
“When did you start here?” I ask her.
“Three days ago. Sir. Aspirant. Um—” She wrings her hands.
“Veturius is fine.”
She walks carefully, gingerly—the Commandant must have whipped her recently. And yet she doesn't hunch or shuffle like the others slaves. The straight-backed grace with which she moves tells her story better than words. She'd been a freewoman before this—I'd bet my scims on it. And she has no idea how pretty she is—or what kind of problems her beauty will cause for her at a place like Blackcliff. The wind pulls at her hair again, and I catch her scent—like fruit and sugar.
“Can I give you some advice?”
Her head flies up like a scared animal's. At least she's wary. “Right now you...” Will grab the attention of every male in a square mile. “Stand out,” I finish. “It's hot, but you should wear a hood or a cloak—something to help you blend in.”
She nods, but her eyes are suspicious. She wraps her arms around herself and drops back a little. I don't speak to her again.”
― An Ember in the Ashes
“Three days ago. Sir. Aspirant. Um—” She wrings her hands.
“Veturius is fine.”
She walks carefully, gingerly—the Commandant must have whipped her recently. And yet she doesn't hunch or shuffle like the others slaves. The straight-backed grace with which she moves tells her story better than words. She'd been a freewoman before this—I'd bet my scims on it. And she has no idea how pretty she is—or what kind of problems her beauty will cause for her at a place like Blackcliff. The wind pulls at her hair again, and I catch her scent—like fruit and sugar.
“Can I give you some advice?”
Her head flies up like a scared animal's. At least she's wary. “Right now you...” Will grab the attention of every male in a square mile. “Stand out,” I finish. “It's hot, but you should wear a hood or a cloak—something to help you blend in.”
She nods, but her eyes are suspicious. She wraps her arms around herself and drops back a little. I don't speak to her again.”
― An Ember in the Ashes
“I'm too hot to care.”
― An Ember in the Ashes
― An Ember in the Ashes
“I can say something in Sadhese, if you like.” He drops his lips to my ear, and the spice of his breath sends a pleasant shiver through me. “Menaya es poolan dila dekanala.” I sigh. No wonder Tribesmen can sell anything. His voice is warm and deep, like summer honey dripping off the comb. “What—” My voice is hoarse, and I clear my throat. “What does it mean?” He gives me that smile again. “I’d really have to show you.”
― An Ember in the Ashes
― An Ember in the Ashes
“I tear strips of cloth off my shirt and wrap my feet. I have only what I fell asleep with — my fatigues and my dagger. I'm suddenly, fervently grateful that I was too exhausted from combat training to strip before sleeping. Traveling the Great Wastes naked — that would be its own special sort of hell.”
― An Ember in the Ashes
― An Ember in the Ashes
“I look up at the stars hanging low in a sky that makes me think I'm seeing the infinite. But beneath their cold gaze, I feel small. All the beauty of the stars means nothing when life here on earth is so ugly.”
― An Ember in the Ashes
― An Ember in the Ashes
“Shadows will bloom in your heart, and you will become everything you hate.”
― An Ember in the Ashes
― An Ember in the Ashes
“Where there is life, Nan used to say, there is hope.”
― An Ember in the Ashes
― An Ember in the Ashes
“She feels out the melody the way a blind man feels his way forward in an unfamiliar room.”
― An Ember in the Ashes
― An Ember in the Ashes
“I don’t look at the wound. I don’t need to. I watched the Commandant as she carved it into me, a thick-lined, precise K stretching from my collarbone to the skin over my heart. She branded me. Marked me as her property. It’s a scar I’ll carry to the grave.”
― An Ember in the Ashes
― An Ember in the Ashes
“There will be so much more in between. So much uncertainty. I don't know if we'll survive the catacombs, let alone the rest of it. But it doesn't matter. For now, these steps are enough. These first few precious steps into darkness. Into the unknown. Into freedom.”
― An Ember in the Ashes
― An Ember in the Ashes