Silk Wings Novels & Stories

He holds it open and looks at me expectantly. I chew on the inside of my cheek. I push down my worries with a deep breath and limp into the connected room. Three pairs of wings are on display, but not like the others. These ones are clean and beneath each stands a table. The first set of wings are black and silver. And on the table is a gleaming silver sword. The second set of wings are snow white. A beautifully strange dagger lies on the table, its curved blade engraved with delicate designs and its hilt encrusted with precious stones.

He was just standing in the sunlight, and Ravi squinted as he saw something gleaming in the man's hand. Ravi focused his vision further to ensure that the object the man held wasn't what he thought it was. The man's hand moved, still gazing, and Ravi's eyes widened when he could see clearly. Ravi froze, subconsciously gripping Raymond's wrist tightly. He saw a shimmering sword smeared with red liquid that was undoubtedly blood. But it didn't end there. Ravi froze further without realizing it, tightening his hold on Raymond's wrist as he observed the man's wings, which were white and almost identical to Raymond's. The wings flapped, and he flew away somewhere.

Yikes "You have wings too?" I ask Aylin and she nods before huge black wings appear behind her. Hers are membranous and resemble bat wings. Her wings seem to absorb what small light there is, and nothing shines off of them, like the blackness of them overpowers any kind of light. She flaps her wings once, before she jumps and lets them carry her upwards. She makes it look effortless.

She had become something beyond that—something celestial and terrible. Her body shimmered like starlight given shape, her skin glowing faintly beneath the layers of enchanted ash. Even from where I stood, I could feel her energy—sharp as obsidian, cold as deep space. The ritual hadn’t just awakened her. It had rewritten her. Then the impossible happened. Wings. Not of feather or bone, but forged from pure silver mist, erupted from her back. They arched like blades, wide and terrible, each beat of them stirring the air with a pressure that bent trees and cracked stone.

I couldn’t. I was staring at the girl standing ten feet away from me. She was my shadow made of sunlight. She had my face—the same high cheekbones, the same dark, radiant skin—but her eyes weren't the white-gold of a Sovereign. They were a blinding, crystalline violet that seemed to bleed light. And those wings... they weren't the obsidian smoke of my own. They were feathers of pure, jagged energy, radiating a heat that made the falling rain hiss into steam. "What is this?" I whispered, the Lagos-grit in my throat feeling like crushed glass. I tightened my grip on Dante’s hand. His palm was burning, his violet sigils pulsing in warning. "Silas, what did you do?"

Not yet. Rea's wings moved behind her. Slowly, gracefully they spread, like two arcs of white, shimmering silver at the tips. The soft light of the bath filtered through the feathers, as if she had brought a fragment of another world with her. As she fully unfolded them, the wings gently curved around them, folding inward like a tent, like a living shield. The outside world vanished. Only the two of them remained—and the silence of the water.

"Go back for now. I'll scan the area with Fye before heading back to camp." Silo vanished, and in his place materialized a stunning black mare, twice the size of the average horse. But the most astonishing thing wasn't her size or her glistening coat, but the wings sprouting on her back. 'Master, good tidings,' Fye said, nuzzling his hand.

Andrius was curious at the solemn warning. Was this thing that amazing? Andrius immediately took the Heavenly Fiend Phoenix wings from Sirus’ hands. Whoosh... As soon as he touched them, he felt the immense power emanating from them. So, this was the Heavenly Fiend Phoenix wings! Andrius was quite satisfied. “I understand.” He took the wings and spoke casually. “Go quickly, then. You must capture them. Don’t make this treasure a waste.” Silas’ eyes gleamed.

Two of them attack the serpentous while defending each other. "I am tired of this filthy creatures!" Ezekeil bellows in slight anger. "Wind magic art, no. 10; Eagles wings shower!" Ezekeil chanted. *Eagle wings shower-- a wind magic created by Ezekeil. Which formed like an eagle wings but, those wings are made of sharpest air most likely equivalent to the most sharpest sword*

The cloud of silver light particles did not fade into the mist. Instead, it expanded, twisting into a vortex of violet wind that swept through the quiet sanctuary, scattering blue ferns and white marble dust across the ancient floor. A figure stepped through the center of the light. She was breathtaking in a way that felt predatory, a high-born framed by raven black hair pinned with silver needles, her dark eyes glittering like black diamonds beneath pale, flawless skin. She wore a grand, sweeping robe of silk and starlight-silver armor, her high collar embroidered with the crest of House Silverwing, a double-headed hawk clutching a blood-red moon. Around her wrists hung golden charm-bracel