Relic Blade Darktide Novels & Stories

“And now that it’s awake…” Anya finished the thought. “So is the blade.” The blade. The Guardian stepped back, revealing a pedestal. Upon it—an ancient weapon. Half silver, half obsidian. Alive with power. The Bladeborn’s soul-forged dagger. Elara reached for it. It hummed in her palm. The moment her skin touched the hilt, a pulse spread out—through the cave, through the mountains, through her bond with Lerder. And they both had a vision. Shared Vision:

I was the one tasked with finding and helping Rosie. And I will, even if it breaks her heart. Pulling out my athame, the one I received from the previous coven leader, I send my will into it. This blade has been to battle before. Usually, a sacred blade is only used in the preparation of spells and rituals, but occasionally it can be utilized as a tool in the battle against the darkness, divine forces guiding the hand of those chosen to fight. The blade glows brightly in the moonlight as I seek the blessing of the Goddess. Keeping the blade low and pointed to the ground, I conceal it along my leg, hoping it remains unnoticed until it is too late.

That's when I had begun to plan my revenge. When Verbeck found out that I had survived the attack, he would obviously be armed and ready, waiting for me to strike, as why vengeful man would. And that would not give me the satisfaction I craved from sweet, cold revenge. When years passed in silence, with no signs of the Selene pack barking up Jonas' door, they would start to relax, let their guard down. And that's when I would strike; when every memory of Nikolai Slade had been wiped from their minds.

Silver gleamed under the low light. A blade. Not just any blade. Old. Lunar-forged. Balanced perfectly for a hand that could both destroy and protect. Mira sucked in a breath. “That’s a Moon Relic.” “Yes.” “They were all destroyed.” “So everyone was told.” I wrapped my fingers around the hilt. The metal hummed, recognition, not resistance. “This was made to kill Devourers,” Mira whispered. “And to anchor them,” I said. Her head snapped up. “Anchor?”

She shook her head in response to Blade’s questioning stare and tightened her lips to show how much she disapproved of it. I was left confused as to why Blade was requiring the old lady’s permission to reveal whatever was bothering him to me. I placed my other hand on our intertwined hands. “Please tell me, I am tired of being left in the dark. You just asked me to trust you and I do, why can’t you trust me?” His eyes met mine again and he leaned down to kiss my palm. “I trust you.” “Then tell me.” The old lady was seething inwards but Blade ignored her. “I have a condition.” He began. “I… I am somehow cursed.”

It looked dangerous… sacred… and strangely familiar. “The Blade of Tenebris,” I murmured, recalling the words I’d once tried so hard to forget. “It cuts not flesh, but spirit. A single strike leaves enemies hollow, their will severed. It was quenched in the Void during the First Apex War. Every wielder leaves behind a fragment of their soul.”

“Prepare the blade.” We moved to the edge of the light-pillar. The air here was so pressurized it felt like standing at the bottom of the ocean. I pulled a small, obsidian dagger from my belt—a relic from the Silent Vault. I looked at Malachi. “This isn't like the Consanguinity, Malachi. This is a manual override. If the cold starts to take me, you have to stay warm. Do not let your pulse drop to match mine, or we’re both dead.”

The force of their clash threw dust into my eyes. Aaron moved next to me instantly, his expression cold and focused. He extended one hand, and the shadows around the temple floor responded like soldiers obeying their king. They surged forward, wrapping around the herald’s feet—but he sliced through them effortlessly, his blade humming with red light. “You cannot fight what was forged before your kind existed,” the herald said, his gaze flicking toward Aaron. “Your darkness was borrowed from us.” Aaron smirked. “Then it’s only fitting I use it to destroy you.”

“The moment I touched it, it felt like someone was ripping my heart apart from the inside.” Nathan’s face tightened. “Let me see.” Aiden didn’t answer. Nathan carefully moved closer to the dagger, studying it without touching it. “What kind of weapon is this?” Nathan’s eyes widened slightly. “Oh God it’s bad Aiden, Raiden didn’t want to kill you..” “He wanted to torture you to death. What he stabbed you with is a Sacred relic..no forbidden weapon” his face turned worst as he continued. “It’s called a Ritual Blade. I have read about it in one of Mirabel’s spell books, it was used by a powerful witch who gained power by killing supernatural beings and absorbing its power. She created this weap

She had once been the feared Queen of Witches, until the werewolves destroyed everything she had built and left her to die. When she opened her eyes again, she was no longer a queen but a powerless werewolf. Stripped of her magic, her position, and the life she had once known, she was forced to survive among the very people responsible for her downfall. Then there was the man who had led the massacre. He claimed she was his mate and wanted her as his Luna. She would gladly accept it.