Excalibur Sword Tattoo Novels & Stories

I whispered. The tattoo of the Aurora Sword in its dagger form slid up my leg and torso then down my arm. It materialized in my hand. I sliced my finger and dripped the blood on the page. The blood turned into a pair of pink wings with a black and white sword crisscrossed through them. "I'm glad we have a deal. We will send reinforcements to your territories edge to keep The Grange at bay." Archer stood. "It is nice to have met you... You know, I didn't get your name."

“Of course, however when you come out, I do believe we have some things we need to discuss, and no more blue lightening.” I couldn’t argue with his request and nodded simply as I walked back to the bathroom. I used the restroom and I timidly walked back over to the sink afraid to gaze into that mirror again. I frowned, inching my face closer to my reflection as I gently touched the lovely mark that was now tattooed on my neck. It resembled a coat of arms with a silver wolf on either side of the shield and a sword resting on cut stalks of wheat. It was an intricate tattoo, a mark that, with my knowledge of European Coats of Arms, resembled our Lycanthropy, wealth, and plenty, and lastly brave

I whisper more towards myself. The tattoo is of no ordinary design. The intricate details almost seem inhumanly made. Swirls of dusty-grey storm clouds surround a midnight-blue sword. They begin at the handles and spiral throughout the golden blade. Behind the sword lays black and blue tip wings. Each feather tip is like a tempestuous addiction. The closer I come, I want to touch it. Visions of the wings wrapping around me, never allowing me to escape, consume my thoughts. I look up at Raquel and shiver, not understanding how a tattoo could be so powerful.

I will know who you are and I will have my answers. I can't sleep, I glance at Corro, his back was facing me topless. My brows furrowed when I saw his tattoo on the back, I saw this just now. It was a sword with blood dripping and a bloody hand was holding it, then below it was a word written Bloodbath.

Then the black tee. Elena watched, mesmerized. Without the suit or the hoodie, the full extent of his ink was visible. A massive vulture was tattooed across his back, its wings stretching to his shoulders. Scars—some from blades, some from bullets—marred his bronze skin like a map of a violent life. "You're staring again, sweetheart," Julian said, stepping toward her. He looked like a pagan god of war. "I've never seen so much of you," she whispered.

He released his grip on his sword hilt, placing both the blade and its scabbard on the ground. "You’re surrendering?" Adrian mushed. "I hope you will spare my life." After uttering these words, Caleb realized he had perhaps overestimated his love for combat in the past. He thought he was like Adrian, one who would valiantly engage in battle. Yet now, he found himself begging for mercy and relinquishing his most treasured possessions. What lay on the ground was not just his weapon, but also his fervor for combat. "You should very much hope so as you are of no use to me," Adrian replied with a faint smile, using his Fight Force to summon the blade from the ground into his hands. Engraved at th

The natural waist dropped into a sheer fabric with flowers stitched into it. The scars have relaxed and really created a pretty chain-link pattern. Although our wolves really worked on healing me, they are just now calming down and looking like regular scars. I have grown accustom to them to the point that I want to get them tattooed. As a symbol of my strength and determination to not let evil win. Soft music was playing as I paced around this tent. The only thing I knew about this event was the smell of lilacs. “Ready?” Colt lifted the side and stepped in.

“You’ve got quite the art collection here. Bit dramatic, though. Not one of them looks happy.” Reinhardt’s lips curved into a faint smile. “That’s Thornveil for you. We don’t paint smiles; we paint victories.” “Yeah,” I muttered. “I can see that.” We kept walking. I tried to keep my eyes forward, but something else caught my attention—a sword hanging from Reinhardt’s hip. The hilt glimmered faintly in the torchlight, marked with an old, familiar symbol. A crescent shape with silver streaks curling through the center.

My fingers are on my chin as I crouched and looked at it. The cover or the sheath was silver with a few pints of gold, I don't understand the engravings etched on it. Because of my curiosity, I held it and released it from its sheath. Unlike other sword, its blade was bluish and silver, the handle was wood in color and the cover was glass. It was not as heavy as it look. I lifted it up and swayed it... Imagining I was a samurai fighting some bad guys. I chuckled.

At the gate. A knight with black armor, as the head, was burly and appeared to be 2.5 meters tall and seemed to be an iron tower. He was sitting upright on a huge, somewhat exaggerated half-demon horse Black Wind Beast. He was bald, his face and scalp were marked with blue thorn tattoos, which made him even more fearful. The tattooed baldheaded man, with slightly narrowed eyes and a faint flicker of green lawn in the depths of the pupils, was cold as if his cold eyes were not like human's.