Relic Blade Darktide Novels & Stories

I said sleepily. He was right, I felt weak and slightly sick that my eye lid started to get heavy. At once I felt a strange cold breeze blow past that made me shiver and open my already closed eyes a little bit. I caught sight of a pale looking slim man wearing a blue tight fitted tee shirt over black leather jeans and brown jacket to my right. He was standing far far away from the group so he was obviously not a part of us, he was looking down all along but as he lifted his head, I saw a his eyes turn deep red before he disappeared completely leaving me shivering against Lucas's body.

Many times his eyes darted to the edge of the path he was passing. The movement in the thickets brought Orda to a halt again, his horse grunting and neighing softly. Orda drew the double-edged ax he threw onto his back. The handle of the object was rather long and silvery in color. Each blade bears a sign of a roaring tiger. “Whoever you are, come out,” Orda said, his voice was firm yet still. Even so, a drop of sweat seemed to be dripping down his forehead.

With every bit of strength he had left in him, he kept saying the spell, even though his voice was getting weaker with each word he spoke. "Dekekrankem delenfoouud." "Please," he cried out, his sight becoming fuzzy. "Please, just let her be safe." Everything around him started to spin like a dizzying ride, and he felt his consciousness beginning to break apart. But he fought to stay focused, determined not to let go until he knew his baby daughter was out of danger. Finally, with one last push, he whispered the final part of the incantation. In a bright flash of light, the baby vanished, leaving Draven all alone in the temple. He fell to the floor, his body shaking as blood continued to flow

I somehow got up from the ground but my vision blurred. Aurora looked at me with her lifeless eyes. "If my manifestation really comes to reality then I manifest for us to meet again... With a fresh start and this time no one will have the upper hand... We would be equally in love with each other... I can't stop Rebecca, Rafael... She needs to die and it won't be possible when I am alive..." No! No fucking way. "Angel!" I screamed on top of my lungs when she let her body fall from the railing of the bridge.

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.

"Jack wolf, please!" With a surge of adrenaline, Jack Wolf summoned every last ounce of strength. The spear shone brighter, its power surging through him like a river of light. Eryndor's eyes widened in surprise as Jack Wolf's grip tightened, the spear's tip pressing deeper into his chest. The dark magic swirling around him began to falter. Eryndor stood on his ground. The air was electric with the clash of steel and the scent of sweat and blood. Eryndor's Shadowing dagger seemed to dance in the moonlight, its dark blade slicing through the air with a haunting screee-ksss.

I gripped my hellblades more firmly, feeling its ruby-red sheen pulse in my hand. Whatever this was, I wasn’t going to be caught off guard. Then it came, her darker side flickered.

Back in my quarters, I activated the device again and sent everything to Axel’s contact. “Relic weakens during new moon. It grows stronger with genuine mate bonds but becomes unstable with jealousy or divided hearts. Kade and Lyra are studying it together every evening. Guard shifts change at midnight — weakest point is the eastern gate. I can create a distraction from inside when you attack. Just give me the word.” The reply came quickly. “Excellent work, Torren. We will coordinate. Keep feeding us information. When the time comes, Lyra is yours to break. Kade… we’ll decide later. Power awaits you.”

Belief. I had given all three. The scars lived on my skin. My mind held the names of those who died in divine silence. My faith had fractured under what I had seen—but I stayed. And tonight, I would give more. I stepped onto the dais and lifted the ceremonial dagger—the Black Blade. Not forged metal, but obsidian fused with the bones of priestesses who had died mid-prophecy, minds split by divine madness. It could cut through flesh… and fate. I drew it across my palm again, deeper than before. My blood struck the altar and hissed.

With each scene, the weight of the blade grew heavier, as if it carried the souls of all who had held it before me. My knees buckled. I gasped, and the battlefield flickered. For a heartbeat, I saw the real chamber overlaid with ghosts of the past—Riven fighting to reach me through invisible resistance, Damien watching with hungry fascination, the walls themselves trembling under the pressure of the relic’s power. Then the dagger dragged me under again. I stood in a quiet clearing bathed in pale moonlight. There was no blood here. No war. Just silence and the soft rustle of leaves. A figure stepped from the shadows, cloaked in darkness that felt achingly familiar.