Snow Sword Stride Novels & Stories

"Don't you dare close your eyes, Aradaa! Stay with me!" Kaelor’s voice ripped through the howling wind, a jagged snarl that barely carried over the shriek of the digital storm. He lunged through snow that reached his waist, his boots sinking into the frozen slush. His arms were iron bands around Aradaa’s limp frame. Ice matted Kaelor’s fur, turning his heavy shoulders into jagged white peaks.

The sun was just coming up so it wasn’t super bright yet. “He is a snow prin.” She really had never heard of one but it was clearly a calm animal. It was large, taller than her and it looked built for this weather and snow. The paws were huge and very furry, they would act like snow shoes. Sybil felt all out of sorts for a moment when Aries took hold of her and lifted her up onto the animal. He actually did it so she sat sideways. It was cold and sitting like this let her wrap the cloak around her easily. He was swift getting onto the animal and taking hold of it along with her and turned it around toward the steeper cliffs behind the keep. She noted how strong his hold was on her and how it

she begins to enchant "Oh God of wind hurricane and snow-white. Bring down his foes tearing apart his enemy's nourishing the weak with power to be strong. The storm that dances in the wind. I summon you for thou strength SWORD ENHANCEMENT" BIZARRE SNOW Her blonde hair instantly glow white. It glows bright as white as snow. The demon looking up as they see a glowing snow suddenly starts to fall from the cloud. The dark cloud, suddenly parted a way and an icy 200 feet giant sword made of sharp ice form in the cloud along with a million barrages of ice swords of different shape and form.

We trudged. The storm showed no mercy. Wind drove the snow into our faces, our eyes, our mouths. Each step required effort, my legs burning as I pushed through drifts that reached my thighs in places. Cain broke trail ahead of me, his massive frame plowing through the powder, creating a path I could follow in his wake. Even he was breathing hard, the cold and altitude taking their toll on his werebear endurance. Above us, the sky flickered. Gold against white. Fire against ice. Keanu, still fighting.

Yet I simply couldn’t remember where. The vast snowfall drifted through the air like hundreds of white butterflies dancing. A tall figure emerged from the darkness and the falling snow. His narrow boots scraped against the snow with crisp sounds. The man wore black clothes, wrapped in a thick snow-white fur cloak, his jet-black short hair reflecting the pale glow of the snow.

They want one thing from females like me. I wipe the snow off of my legs, the prince standing and doing the same, his focus somewhere up near the cabin where he begins walking back up the snowy hill, fighting for each step. I wait, seeing him pull out a large metal sled with ropes up front meant for steering, although I doubt it would do any good if he was actually brave enough to take that sled down this steep mountainside. He sets it down in front of me with a churlish grin, a mischievous and fun spark in such a serious, stern prince.

The cold shot up my legs in sharp bursts. I gasped and stumbled backward, but the snow followed, climbing up past my calves, swallowing me inch by inch. Fuck! Not this again! I tried lifting my leg, but the snow held on like hands gripping me. The more I struggled, the deeper I sank. By the time it reached my thighs, I was breathing too fast, clawing at the walls, at the bed, at anything, but the snow kept swallowing me, creeping up my waist, then my ribs… I opened my mouth to scream—

I drop into a low, predatory stance, my bare feet anchoring into the freezing slush. "The mountain doesn't belong to the registries anymore, parasite," I snarl softly, my voice a quiet, catastrophic density that makes the pine needles above us shake. With a soft, synchronized *schlick*, the three-inch obsidian claws slide out from my fingertips, humming with a localized, white-hot current of Southern Fire. I can't launch a massive geothermal wave without backfiring, but my strategic wit is fully intact.

The stranger stopped a few feet away from the wooden posts. Snow crunched loudly beneath his heavy winter boots while the cold mountain wind moved through the open space, whipping up a fine white powder that swirled between us. For a heavy moment, nobody spoke a single word. The man looked at me, then shifted his gaze to Takoda, and then right back to me again. A slow, knowing grin spread across his features, deep lines crinkling at the corners of his dark eyes.