Blackwater Blade Novels & Stories

Kael barked, wiping water from his eyes as he crouched beside my chest. “I will give you three seconds,” I replied. I stood up flat in the pouring rain, raising my broadsword into the howling wind. The black plasma flame along the blade erupted with blinding force, drawing the gunship’s primary searchlight directly onto my face. I swung the heavy blade in a sweeping overhead arc, sending a wave of dark-matter fire straight up into the gunship’s forward glass. The pilot swerved sharply to avoid the thermal blast, exposing the unarmored intake vent on the craft’s right side.

There was a clump of hair, long and matted with dark stains, and next to it lay a bloodied dagger. Liam let out a sharp, hissed breath as he leaned in to inspect the weapon, and his eyes widened in recognition. It was a heavy blade with a distinctive ivory hilt, the official weapon of the Blackwood Alphas, and Liam muttered that it was Ronan's dagger. They had both thought he had lost it in the chaotic battle with the rogues back then, but here it was, buried in the middle of nowhere and covered in something that looked like dried gore. At the same time, I felt a knot of nausea tighten in my stomach as I looked at the clump of hair. It looked suspiciously similar to my own, the same shade an

The evil spirits were swirling on the scene of the death, the crows with their black fluff and beak dripping with fresh blood quacked, filling up at the feast of blood and corpses. Not far from there, a corpse pile of mighty warriors of the race of giants, there was a tall and imposing man with a beautiful and cruel face, that until the gods of this world were afraid. He was using a heavy and long sword. His beautiful blond hair was stained by blood, and his blue eyes looked scarier than the scene in front of him.

The swords are bronze, beneath their silver skins. I’m barely two feet from the line, and I give away one of them stepping back from Black’s slash. The howling around us becomes a gasp as his blade is motionless in the moment before he starts the backswing, and I reach out, and grab it with my bare hand.

she whispered, fear threading her voice. “You survived it,” I said, gripping the handle of my knife, feeling the familiar weight like an extension of my arm. “And then you make sure it never comes back.” Blade gave me a nod, a silent agreement. His gaze flicked to the shadows. “It’s not human. Not really. But it can bleed. And when it bleeds…” His eyes glinted. “…we make it count.” From the corner of my eye, I caught movement. A black blur, almost imperceptible, circling behind the trees. My heart hammered. The figure was patient, letting us think we had a moment’s reprieve. But that was all it was—an illusion.

The impact sent him crashing to the ground of the cage. The crowd cheered crazily, screams erupted all around me. "BLADE!" "BLADE!" "BLADE!" I pulled out my custom-made blade gleamed with a savage hunger under the bright arena lights. The polished steel bore the name "Capone," etched into the metal like a proclamation of death. Its edge was as sharp as a serpent's fang. It looked eager to cut, having tasted the blood of many before. The handle, wrapped in black leather, felt like a coiled snake in my grip, ready to strike with deadly accuracy. This blade wasn't just a weapon; it was a merciless instrument of brutality, a symbol of my unrelenting power in this world.

And it will be impossible for them to destroy the true enemy - the Beast! John inspected his blades and stroked them, especially admiring the sterling silver engraving that showed up as soon as he held them in his hands. The Blades recognized their Master, their Creator. The engraving on one of the blades read: "Ta - revo" - "I am death." And on the other: "Ve'ol, E'khor!" - "Fear, Beast!" "My blades," Black whispered, still holding his blades in his hands. - How, it turns out, I missed you!

Wherever the blades passed, the air seemed to tear, emitting a piercing screech. Cloudwalker's expression remained unchanged. He waved his fly whisk, and the golden light surged, the whisk's threads tracing graceful arcs in the air like golden chains, wrapping around each incoming black energy blade. With a flick of his wrist, the fly whisk snapped, instantly purifying the blades into wisps of black smoke that dissipated into the air.

Belief. I had given all three. The scars lived on my skin. My mind held the names of those who died in divine silence. My faith had fractured under what I had seen—but I stayed. And tonight, I would give more. I stepped onto the dais and lifted the ceremonial dagger—the Black Blade. Not forged metal, but obsidian fused with the bones of priestesses who had died mid-prophecy, minds split by divine madness. It could cut through flesh… and fate. I drew it across my palm again, deeper than before. My blood struck the altar and hissed.

I am so worried about how bad these dreams get each and every day. I know something is bothering you and as I always say, take me as your best friend and feel free to tell me anything and everything.’ Mariam, Susan’s mother says sweetly to her, to which she nods her head positively. After a little more conversation with her daughter, Mariam retires to her room to continue her sleep. ~> Introduction to characters. Susan Parrish, female protagonists/ Black’s mate. There’s going to be a lot of her POV’s. Jones Black[Abbadon], male protagonist. There maybe a considerable amount of POV’s in his name.