Fable Of Blades Novels & Stories

"I won't let go." Rhydian smiled through the blood on his lips. "You never have to." The Twin Blades merged into one brilliant white sword. Its light pierced the heavens. The King of the Void looked at the weapon. For the first time... It took a single step backward. "You forged..." Its voice carried something unfamiliar. "...the Blade of Beginning." The Creator smiled. "No. They did." The white blade released a pulse of light that spread across the collapsing world. Dead trees bloomed. Broken stone became green with life. The frightened Gatekeepers felt hope returning to their hearts. Even the widening crack in the sky stopped growing.

The man who felt nothing when the blade fell. Or at least… That’s what everyone believed. Adrian lifted the sword slowly. The crowd quieted. The prisoner screamed. But Adrian’s mind drifted briefly to the memory of that throne room years ago. To the golden eyes of the king who had spared his life. And to the strange feeling he always had when he knew those eyes were watching him. Not fear. Never fear. Something else. Something he had never quite managed to name. The blade rose higher. The crowd held its breath.

Apollo stated. I nodded. “Exactly.” The transcripts also had a short record of Blade’s family. His parents came from different kingdoms. But since his mother had a werewolf gene, they decided to stay in our kingdom where they raised Blade. And when he was eighteen, he united the kingdoms. But again, the relationship of the kingdoms fell apart after the mages accused him of building an army of hybrids. They fought him and trapped him in the tower.

“I know it seems impossible, Damara, but I am sure of it. The legends describe it clearly, and these runes are definitely of Minotaur origin.” “But his blade was lost, or thought destroyed,” she insisted. “Clearly they were mistaken. This is the blade, of that I have no doubt.” Randey’s face was scrunched up in confusion. “What are you talking about, Father?” His parents regarded one another for a moment. Then Reidar set the blade reverently on the hearth, and they moved to the comfortable seats surrounding the fireplace. Randey sat next to his mother, facing his father across the fine woven rug on the floor. “A tale from the time of the great Battle of the Guardians.”

But I don’t look away. The blade’s still. Silent. Just steel. But in that moment, it felt like more. Like it wanted. I should be scared. Instead, I grin. “Yeah… maybe you’re alive too.” That night, I can’t sleep. I keep replaying it in my head. That flash, that twitch of the sword under my blood. They said stories of ego blades are just tales. Weapons with souls. Hungry steel that chooses its wielder. But maybe… maybe I’ve stumbled onto one.

Reaching for his side, Ymir unsheathed another blade, and in the same instant the ones in his hands vanished. I backed away immediately after witnessing the change of blades. I didn't want to rush forward with an attack when I wasn't sure of what these new blades could do. It was safe to assume that each of them possessed unique abilities, someone like this couldn't possibly face the Lycan with ordinary blades. People like him were way too proud to even think of doing so. "These blades nullify healing of any sort, do not think you'll heal back after I cut you to pieces with these blades." He educated. It was a foolish thing to do, but I was pleased he had opened up.

We stayed silent for a while as we wound down the streets of Moon City, the night life shown in the bar lights streaming through the skies. "What is the blade that he was talking about?", I asked after a while of silence. "The blade is an ancient weapon that can be used to kill young vampires", Jacob responded, his eyes focused on the road, his hands relaxed on the steering wheel. "Young vampires?", I pondered. Did he mean people like Kane? "Do you mean newly turned?", I asked. "The ones that just underwent the change?"

“Does this mean something?” Edward, who I’ve always viewed as father figure, is now all hunter in his response. “It means that you’re not just any hunter. And that’s as scary as it is promising.” Rion leans in so close his voice is almost private, “There’s a legend that the Orion blades can split in two.” He’s joking, I think—until I flick my wrist, and the blade separates perfectly down the center, each half locking into my hands like twin extensions of my own arms. The blue light flares, briefly blinding.

I asked Cael, my voice filled with determination and a hint of fear. I walked slowly, each step heavier than the last, closer to Cael. "I am the blade," he said, his eyes meeting mine with unwavering resolve. “I am not just a weapon—I am the will of the ancients, forged in magic. But your soul must light the flame. The weapon is nothing without me. But it cannot awaken without you. But to wield me, you must first prove your worth." "What do you mean?" Fiona clutched the remnants of her light, her voice shaking. “You are a blade? That’s why they chained you…”

The blade felt heavier in my hands than it should have, as though it carried the weight of every decision I was about to make. Its dark, jagged edge seemed to hum softly, a sound only I could hear, resonating in my chest like a second heartbeat. Every time I looked at it, the whispers grew louder—promises of power, freedom, and control. I was close to running mad, or so I felt. I didn’t tell Rigel or Selene what I was doing. This was my burden, my risk. I had waited until the others were asleep, the sparkling glow of our campfire masking the faint light that pulsed from the blade as I drew it from its sheath.