Cherry Blossom Sword Novels & Stories

Ivory’s hands shook, she hid her hands so the others won’t see, she couldn’t believe she just escaped from death. ‘That’s a relief’ Nara commented. Ivory stared at indigo’s sword; she wondered what type of sword it was that it could pierce through the bear’s thick hide. The sword looked like it was made from a bone of a creature. ‘That sword is indeed made from bone but it was made from a bone of a phase five air elemental’ Anita commented. Ivory’s eyes widened in surprise as she took another look at his sword, she didn’t reply Anita as she was still a little angry.

She took a deep breath and opened it gently. Inside the box laid an ornate weapon, no longer than five feet. From a quick look, Cassana could tell the handle was made of obsidian. A fine carving of wreathe with the shape of willow leaves twisted around the handle up to its arms. The upper and lower limbs, made of either holly or cedar, extended out from the handle to form an exquisite symmetrical arc that curved on its ends. A string made of sinew fiber stretched from one groove to the other, pulling the wood into shape, while seemingly emanating an ineffable hum.

Blade came out with his usual all black clothing—a big black sweatshirt, a black baggy jean, black glasses, black face cap, black sneakers— and a revolver carefully tucked by his side. To my shock, the passenger door opened and a girl came out. She was obviously young, probably fourteen or fifteen with red hair and a round hazel eyes which peered at me through the glass of the coffee shop. I couldn’t help but wonder who she was and why Blade had decided to bring her along. They both shared words before walking towards the coffee shop. “Emily!” Blade called as he walked inside with his companion right behind him. “I’m right here,” I said waving my hands in the air to draw his attention.

"Like the princess, tea, or flower?" I glanced at him from the corner of my eye, a smile growing on my face. "The flower. Why do you—why do you call me Bloom?" Zac shrugged lightly, looking out the window. "I assumed it was the flower. Blooming—as flowers do." I inhaled sharply. I was—flattered, I think. Confused. I didn't think Zac was someone who would put thought into a nickname. It—kind of made my heart tug. It was—just more thoughtful than I would have imagined Zac to be.

He looked entirely, sickeningly amused. "Is that so?" Vane smiled. It was a jagged, terrifying expression that didn't reach his dead, watery blue eyes. "Let us test the structural integrity of your little empire." He raised the small silver remote and tapped a single button. On the massive high – definition screen directly in front of me, the pristine white floor beneath Sloane and Jessica suddenly shifted. A section of the glass tile slid away with a soft, mechanical hiss. Rising from the hidden compartment was a single, gleaming carbon steel combat knife. It was identical to the one I carried strapped to my thigh.

LYRA I stare at my reflection in the mirror, transformed. The gown I wore was a piece of perfection hugging every curve of mine. The silk fabric clings to my skin, showcasing my figure in a way that makes me feel so different. The dress is a deep, rich blue, almost purple, almost like Sage knew exactly what to pick out for me all the time. It's an offshoulder with long lace sleeves flowing. I know this date was supposed to be casual but Sage didn't think as I did. He was hell-bent on making it a bit overboard.

The others also saw clearly that Felix was standing there, unmoved. "Go ahead. He has been hit by my Moon Strike. He no longer has the energy to block other attacks." Then, a sudden sound of something tearing through the air sounded. In the next moment, a sword landed between them and Felix. The sword was sharp on both edges. It was silver and crescent-shaped. It swayed gently back and forth, following the wind.

I held my hand out, feeling mist and black smoke gather, forming into a cool length of metal that sang against my skin. The Sword lengthened as if from thin air and I hefted it, the weight gleaming black metal comforting in my hands. I slashed in the direction of Eryndor’s lunge and he twisted, barely managing to get out of the way. He tumbled to the ground behind me and leapt back to his feet, his eyes fixed solely on my weapon. The black length was double-edged, ending in a sharp point that seemed to catch the light when it moved, despite its color. The hilt was solid gold and cast in the shape of small wings sprouting from either side of the grip. It was a majestic weapon. Eryndor’s eyes