Aemond Targaryen Sword Novels & Stories

This gruesome sight made the room's contents not look like a luxurious palace but a cruel slaughterhouse with a suppressing aura. Draco pulled out the sword forged by Bowen. The hilt was made from the trunk of the Sacred Mana Tree, and the blade was made from dragon scales. Magic gems were embedded along the hilt and blade of the sword. While walking along the corridor, Draco smacked and slashed at every demon-beast that came attacking him like insects.

asked Kariya with a smile. “Draw your sword!” screamed Luese holding up the Sun Saber. Kariya drew the Doom Giver, which he got from Lena after she beat the guardian and met Luese in the middle of the room. The Doom Giver was pure black, with red rubies and a ghost on the hilt. Both combatants moved at incredible speeds slashing and striking each other. “The Doom Giver! Why are you collecting the swords?” “It’s my part of the Grand Design.” Said Kariya jumping backward.

Abe nodded his head at Aegeus. "20 more to go" A few kilometres away from the site of the battle, a man clad in a robe with the insignia of a Wolf on it was approaching Abe and the others' location. He smelt of several different herbs, and in his hands was a blue potion. As if he wasn't peculiar enough, he carried another thing that was a source of great fear to Zandorians; for strapped onto his back was a blade that was as dark as the night and as cold as winter - the Dark Sword!

I said to him. I'm still chewing on the orange he gave me, noticing his expression when I tell him this information. “Seriously? Does anyone already know?” “Nope. I also just found out this morning when they took my blood” I showed my hands to him, there are a lot of needle marks in there. Arthur smiles, almost laugh.

Pushing open the back door to his stall, I gazed at the array of weapons that lay on the tables. Swords, bows, arrows and axes littered the tables. "When did you have time for this?" I whispered. Father surely hadn't done all of these in one day. As I gazed at the array of weapons, one weapon caught my eye. It was a silver sword. At the base of the handle was a purple gemstone. Gently grasping it, I felt the weight shift in my hand. Swords weren't my cup of tea. To me, they were heavy and left you open, but I still loved the way this sword looked.

"Wait, I'm familiar with both the book and the sword. They are normally at my father's place. He's been devoting a lot of time lately to reading that book." "And what is the purpose of the blade?" "It's for, yeah, I read about it in my father's library a long time ago, it's used for the rite when when...no!" They rushed into the palace, two awls trailing behind them, holding a huge wooden box. When they were climbing the flight of stairs, one of the awls relaxed his grasp on the case's side handle and it slid off, falling to the ground. The case's housing broke open and objects spewed out, including several scrolls, a large book with a lock restricting the pages, and a fairly long dagger.

He knelt beside the dead man, wiped the blood off his blade, and then turned his gaze back to me. “I apologize for that,” he said, his voice smooth but dangerous, like silk wrapped around steel. “No true man should ever raise his hand to a woman. Especially not one carrying life.” I stared at him, my breath coming in uneven gasps. “Who…who are you?” He smiled faintly. It wasn’t warm, it was the kind of smile predators wear when they’ve already caught their prey. “My name,” he said, his voice slow, deliberate, “is Aemond. Aemond Blackfyre.”

“A very powerful witch. I’m sure you’ll meet her and her mate Ezra soon enough. Jamison brought out a scabbard and Ard’al pulled a beautifully made broad sword. The wooden handle was etched and the blade was engraved with symbols he didn’t understand. “The sword is spelled and blessed”, Ard’al said. Rainn took the blade from his hand and couldn’t believe how well balanced it was. “You start training using that tomorrow”, Ard’al called as he headed out the door.

I need my sword. Reaching behind my back, I feel the cool, smooth texture of my marking shift beneath my fingers. There’s a brief moment where the ink pulses, almost as if it’s alive, before it solidifies into the hilt of my sword. I draw it out, feeling the familiar weight settle into my hand. The blade hums with energy, a glowing blue that pulses in time with my heartbeat. This sword is mine, a part of me, born of my blood and soul. Athena’s gift, forged from my very essence.

The sword was resting on a sword holder made out of an unknown glowing blue rock attached to the wall. The sword on it was even more luxurious and oozed out an aura of darkness. Yet at the same time, it had an ethereal feeling. The dark red crystal on its hilt, the shape of an eye, glowed ominously, pulsing as though it were alive. There were ancient texts and markings all over the sword's sheath. And I knew that the blade hidden beneath had even more complicated incantations engraved on them. A name began to form in my mind. Throughout history there was only one sword that met the qualifications. “That's the sword of Aramun. I had it placed in your new room. Do you like it?” Richard whisper