Immortal Soldier Novels & Stories

As Reavers, my kin and I possessed a unique gift, immortality. However, this blessing came with a crucial caveat: while we wouldn't succumb to the natural passage of time, we could still fall in battle. My brothers and I were the exceptions to this rule, bound by different circumstances that rendered us virtually unkillable. The rest of our kind, though, could be slain, albeit with great difficulty. Their immortal lives could be extinguished, and in those rare cases a funeral was custom.

She will be my mate. The Council looked shocked at his words, but no one dared oppose him, power oozed from him. He had waited all his life to challenge and take this Crown, now he was King, the Immortal World was going to do things his way. The Immortal Army was vast, they stretched as far as the eye could see. Immortals of every species stood together before the mighty Dragon King. Standing tall he roared the Viking battle cry breathing fire into the sky, ‘Soldiers of the Immortals. It is better to die with honour than live with shame. To Valhalla this day we ride!’

The second soldier barbarically dragged her back towards the centre of the mat as she screamed, desperately digging her nails into the ground. The man released her suddenly, lifting her head as she cried, his laugh blackening her already fragile soul, her impressionable mind filled with only pain and sorrow. She clenched her eyes shut, whimpering when the soldiers fist connected with her cheek, the blow worsening the cut on the side of her lips. He continued to laugh as he rose back to his feet, watching her wither in pain along with the others as the third man walked over to a large weapons rack, removing two of the wooden swords. He threw one of the wooden blades towards the young immortal

"But everything changed, there's one kingdom who seized them out of greediness." "What do you mean seized?" I asked her. "They got rid of them on the land," the village healer's eyes grew mad. "King Hydrae ordered Thud to slaughter every immortal. He ordered that no one should live---," I cut her words. "Do immortals die?" "Of course, they do through decapitation. That's what the Aquans did," she narrated. "They were strong you said. How were they decapitated?" It confused me.

Houses and establishments were built all over. He met two mortals and his companion whom he meddled and mingled with in this time of the year. He fell in love with her yet, she can’t return his love. Leana and Geanne were the mortals whom he saved; Whitney, his lovely companion never left his side, they all escaped World War together. After the mortals left him, he felt lonely that he studied blood transfusion, he wanted Whitney to be an immortal. He never failed, his once mortal dog became immortal because of the blood transfusion. It was a successful one however, Whitney’s appearance changed. But it didn’t changed his companion’s attitude.

“I’ll believe you. Whatever it is, I’ll believe you.” He looked up into her eyes, and he finally seemed to believe her. He looked back down at the water for a very long time, until once again, he was ready to talk. “I am an Immortalist. I come from a family of Immortalists. We have been alive for nearly two thousand years. Our name, though, is deceptive: we are not immortal. None of us. Our life span is finite. Two thousand years, exactly. In fact, as fate would have it, we have only weeks left to live.”

They looked pathetic—starving, hollow-eyed men wearing ragged, faded crimson cloaks draped over rusted, scavenged pieces of Starved Iron armor. But the terror in their eyes vanished the moment they saw us. It was replaced by the fanatic, unyielding zeal of a dead empire. "For the Iron Crown!" the lead soldier screamed, his voice cracking from years of breathing toxic dust. He didn't draw a sword. He reached into a padded leather pouch on his chest and pulled out a small, thick glass vial. Inside the glass, a few ounces of pitch-black, bioluminescent water swirled violently, desperate to expand.

Beads of sweat run down his forehead, and he’s turned pale. “When they were talking in the courtyard…” He licks his lips. “I heard something I didn’t understand then, but I do now.” “What? What is it?” And does he seriously think we have time to stop and have a conversation right now? The new wave of Silver Hunters is probably already in the main building. They’ll reach the pool house in no time at all, and I don’t have what it takes to defeat that many of them. “It’s an old relic.” Alec grabs my shoulder. “It’s all powerful. If they get their hands on it, nothing can stop them. I thought… I thought it was just a legend, that it wasn’t real.”

“Why are you struggling?” The First Immortal had entered the war. And suddenly Victory no longer felt possible.

"If you do not see it. It cannot hurt you" Everyone has one 'soldier'... or more... that they are born with. 'Soldiers of the soul' where you know them, you trust them, but you are convinced they are your 'instincts' instead of your 'invisible friend' from long ago. They walk in the shadows and are always with you... Even when you are lost and alone, though they cannot come into the light, but they can warn you from things they are able to see. Have you ever felt like that?