Path Of The Sword Novels & Stories

The look on Slate’s face said it all as Nya stood there with the Heart of Magic tight in her fist. The soldiers’ faces told her that they recognized that it was too late, that they had let the magical gem fall into enemy hands. One of the soldiers held a sword to Slate’s throat, his hands trembling. Nya hadn’t even realized that he was under their control until the tip of the sword pierced his skin, and a tiny droplet of blood rolled down the edge.

The witches closed in, their laughter echoing like a chorus of nightmares. Something inside Aqua snapped. A surge of dark energy, unfamiliar and terrifying, welled up within her. She felt her pendant grow hot against her skin, the clear crystal turning black as smoke. The air around her crackled with raw power as she turned back towards the attackers, her fear morphing into a blinding rage.

For a short while each morning, the citadel felt almost peaceful. Adrian stepped into the open courtyard with his sword resting against his shoulder. The stone beneath his boots was cold, still damp with the night’s lingering frost. Thin mist curled along the edges of the training grounds, giving the towering walls a ghostlike appearance. He set the sword down carefully in the center of the courtyard. The weapon was enormous—nearly as tall as his shoulder and heavy enough that most soldiers struggled to lift it with both hands. Adrian lifted it easily. The familiar weight settled into his grip like an old companion.

I cast a glance back at the wall, where Derrick was pacing in frantic confusion. "I have nothing to do with them anymore." The rogues' eyes darted to the sword at my hip—the unmistakable weapon of the warrior they feared. Murmurs rippled through their ranks, and then, as if by silent agreement, they parted, giving us a clear path through. We rode without looking back and soon arrived at our new home, Silvani Pack. It was smaller than the Lupusumbra Pack had been, but the people were kind. When they heard we had been sent by the Alpha King to lead them, they eagerly returned to their homes, gathering food to share with us in welcome.

“This is … powerful … and beautiful at the same time. I’d like to learn this form, General.” Edric sheathed his sword and looked up towards the light snowfall from the explosion earlier. “As for what I’ve said … this art of swordsmanship is the hardest one to perform … but I believe in you.” “How do I start?” “The snowflake symbol that you have seen earlier on the floor was the Path I opened … now, you might think that was the Path of Ice … it is not. What I just opened was the Path of Glacian Origin.” Arth raised both eyebrows. “Origin? Is that an ancient path?”

I knelt down not caring about the tiny shards prickling my tender skin, just one cut, I thought to myself, just one clean cut, it would all be over. I held onto a handful of glass as tears streamed down my face, oh one cut wouldn’t be enough. One cut wouldn’t help anything, wouldn’t heal anything, I blamed the stupid glass and I blamed God, I blamed everything. I couldn’t kill myself. I was too much of a coward to blame myself.

She purses her lips in displease seeing everyone is leaping aside. 'Why in the hell would they leap away as if it's a vulture?! The sword is aimed straight and they could have just stepped aside from its way! Why would they do backflips and all? Is this a gymnastics class or what? And what's with that dude? Why is that guy breathing heavily as if he just escaped from a hunting lion?' She notices only a few guys just took a step aside and stood straight calmly. THUD! Her eyes follow the sound and see Parthib stopped the sword by holding it in his bare hand. The sharp edge has cut his palm resulting in bleeding.

How could she forgot bringing knife. "It's okay, come inside." Abraham blew off the candles and walked inside his room taking her wrist in his hand. She was walking alongside him. He placed the cake on the centre table and then walked towards his side drawers. He took out a finger sized dagger from it and then came to stand beside her. Again taking her hand in his, they both sat on the sofa and Abraham cut a small piece of cake and then brought it towards Minahil's face. She ate it and then fed a big piece to Abraham as well.

"I do. I just struggle to believe it." "Look at me Ezra. Please." He did as I asked, so I continued before I lost the nerve to say what needed to be said. "You and I were connected together by a goddess. She laid out a path for us that it seems most others choose to take and thrive on. You and I didn't take that path. We've walked so far down another that the old path is gone, and it's too far away to ever get back to. That doesn't mean that we don't deserve happiness Ezra. It doesn't mean that there aren't other paths for us to walk down. Paths that we get to choose for ourselves as individuals. We can't be the only ones out there that haven't finalized the mate bond. Your uncle told me tha

"Wait, I'm familiar with both the book and the sword. They are normally at my father's place. He's been devoting a lot of time lately to reading that book." "And what is the purpose of the blade?" "It's for, yeah, I read about it in my father's library a long time ago, it's used for the rite when when...no!" They rushed into the palace, two awls trailing behind them, holding a huge wooden box. When they were climbing the flight of stairs, one of the awls relaxed his grasp on the case's side handle and it slid off, falling to the ground. The case's housing broke open and objects spewed out, including several scrolls, a large book with a lock restricting the pages, and a fairly long dagger.