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  • Writer's pictureC.A. Lightfoot

More from Dark Ember

Happy Friday, everyone! I've made it to 42,000 words in this novel and I'm still trucking along. The story has evolved so much from the first outline and I'm really enjoying writing it. I'll share another piece of the novel this morning, and probably some more next week.

I hope you're all doing great!


Dark Ember:

Rex turned to where he had last seen Swift and Jonas, finding they were no longer in the empty alleyway. The door just beyond where they had stood flickered with light. Rex lifted a brow with amusement when he noted words were appearing in that doorway, as though inked into air by an invisible hand wielding gold ink.

Mr. Muñoz, do come in.

Deciding the magical, floating writing wasn’t even in the top three weirdest things that had happened to him in the last 12 hours, Rex adjusted his bag over his shoulder and jogged toward the door.

The magical writing dissipated, revealing peeling paint on an old wooden sign. Whitworth’s Portals and Reagents.

Obviously, Swift had found her friend. Rex’s heart began to pound within his chest. Swift had told them Whitworth would portal them over to Peralt. Was he really about to step into a magical land with an elemental dragon at his heart?

How was any of this real?

Before he could step into the shop, Rex paused with his hand on the door pull. Ember had raised her head, turning both of them toward the market they had just left. Unerringly, their joined sight found the dwarf’s stall, where seven-horned goats bleated and that little wyrm sat in a small cage on the counter.


The creature they had hatched only minutes ago was not in the cage. Instead, he stood in the massive hand of what Rex could only think was a troll or orc. It was tall, probably a full foot taller than Rex, with dark hair braided down his back and flesh of muted green stretched over bulging muscle. Those enormous hands held the wyrm with care, and Rex’s enhanced eyes could clearly see the wyrm snuggling into the creature’s thumb.

The green-hued male murmured something even Rex’s sensitive ears could not catch to the dwarf, whom replied sternly. As the wyrm hiccupped smoke, the massive male nodded once. As the dwarf grinned triumphantly, Rex sent a curious thought to Ember. He expected rage or sorrow from her and wanted to be sure he wasn’t about to set Whitworth’s shop on fire.

She did not reply, her mood shifting from melancholy to intrigued, perhaps with a measure of satisfaction. Rex decided he would ask Swift about the male and his species’ relation to drakes.

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