Chaos Sword Novels & Stories

My fingers loosened against NightSword and it clattered away from me. Eryndor’s eyes were dilated, his canines dripping saliva as he dove for the sword, picking it up with a feral grin. He raised it above my head as I watched in horror. NO!, NightSword screamed in my head, in protest at being wielded by one not bonded to him. My ears popped and my vision was lost again as a powerful sonic blast emerged from the ancient weapon, a beam of energy spiraling outwards and slamming into Eryndor.

Argh! Of course, as myself I won't say no. I am Xyna Alegre, I don't back down or back out with any challenges. Especially just this lame kind of challenge. I was meant to fought challenges even from the start. “All right!” I said with a high tone. Yeah this is a very very LAME childish challenge! But the thing is... “But, how to play that...that vending machine (claw machine)?” his forehead creased and looked at me like I am some sort of a weirdo.

It smelled of damp stone, old hay, and solitude. Makil was already there, warming up with a series of fluid stretches that further betrayed his training. He wore similar clothes to yesterday, and two practice longswords were thrust into the ground at the center of the yard. Leigh arrived silently, a shadow detaching from the deeper shadows of the archway. She'd re-braided her hair tightly. She said nothing, simply walked to the center, pulled one sword from the earth, and tested its weight. "No rules," Makil said, pulling the other. "First to yield, or be disarmed."

I murmured, half asleep, smiling against his ribs, warm all the way through. "My queen," Malik said, quiet, into my hair, like a thing he'd known for a long time and had only now earned the right to name. "My queen of chaos. If you'll have the crown. If you'll take a gray careful kingdom and a man who's still learning how to be a person and a whole city full of people who used to be ordered to fear you, and stand next to it all, not under it, and make it yours too." I lay very still against him, and felt the enormous thing his voice was circling, and decided, being who I was, to make him work for the shape of it.

It was Lily. Startled, I pulled my hand back and answered, my voice unsteady. "Lily?" Her voice came through thick with tears. "Mandy, where are you? Chester is gone. He left a note saying he wants a divorce. My parents are losing their minds. Do you know where he went?" My heart sank as I turned to look at Chester. He frowned, clearly catching every word. Flustered, I said, "I… I don't know. I'm in my dorm. I haven't seen him."

On the pavilion floor lay a sword carved with a dragon, and standing on it was the man who had shouted. He stooped slightly, breath ragged; his eyes were bloodshot, bulging as if they might pop from their sockets. Through gritted teeth he thought, 'Xiu Jian is a damned wretch! I can’t even burn his sword!' Indeed, the trembling, furious man was Huang Fu, and the blade beneath his boot was the Sacred Dragon Sword. He had tried to set the sword aflame—yet not only did the flames refuse to take, the fuel he poured seemed to be absorbed and vanished, drying as if swallowed by the metal itself.

Not because I couldn’t but because I didn’t want to. Do you know how disturbing that is for someone like me? I feel like my entire personality folder got corrupted. Luca keeps calling it “character development,” like he’s personally responsible for this emotional glow-up. Sofia pats my cheek sympathetically and tells me heartbreak builds empathy. Empathy. No thank you. But then something shifts in the air. Like a disturbance in the force. Like the universe whispering, Heads up, King — chaos is coming. So I finally look up and see an eight-year-old girl annihilate my front display like she’s reenacting Fast & Furious: Bookstore Drift.

I am not surprised because not only is that idiot disrespectful, he is also disloyal and smells an awful lot. I scanned my mate and found one of the many daggers designing her body missing. I didn’t say nothing. Without a word or missing a beat, she walked calmly towards the empty chairs and I was right behind her to pull out her seat for her. “Who the fuck threw the knife?” Lionel barked out in rage “I did” Chaos answered calmly as she leveled him with an intense glare “You fucking bitch! Who do you think you are? Do you know who I am?” he spat out

’ everybody assumed impatiently. Tension of the crowd was aroused in alarm, their hearts raced with unwelcoming anticipation. Finally, a figure emerged from the huge waves as a victor, the sword of Eryndor– Eryndor, exhausted but triumphant, his Conch shell still clutched in his hand.

Theo drag his body out of the stream to shore and laid back making the huffing sound. It was Theo first battle, and it was the hardest battle of all, and as well as Theo regret not bringing his sword, because it would be a little bit easy, with the black sword, over time during the practices, Theo notice that the black sword was too sharp, and feel regretted and thankful for the person who sold it without knowing anything.