Sword Wielders Novels & Stories

The sword began to tingle in his grip as Rhychard blocked another swing. He could hear the words the other Warriors were chanting and soon the words began to make sense to him even though he couldn't make them out. He focused on Mephalus, but he repeated the same chant as the others, reaching with everything Kree taught him into the sword. He felt the other Warriors, felt their lifelines. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a tall, thin elf with long blond hair look at him, a smile on his face. Then he nodded at Rhychard and melted into the air, his life force flowing toward Rhychard and entering the sword once again. The blade pulsed with the added energy and Rhychard felt it grow more soli

I need my sword. Reaching behind my back, I feel the cool, smooth texture of my marking shift beneath my fingers. There’s a brief moment where the ink pulses, almost as if it’s alive, before it solidifies into the hilt of my sword. I draw it out, feeling the familiar weight settle into my hand. The blade hums with energy, a glowing blue that pulses in time with my heartbeat. This sword is mine, a part of me, born of my blood and soul. Athena’s gift, forged from my very essence.

~Hunter’s Point of View~ I was enjoying my nice, quiet day off soaking in my huge tub. It had been a long week and my brothers and I rotated being on active duty and on call. I was aching for my week off. They were few and far between anymore since it seemed like everyday someone else was being a menace, being difficult. My brothers and I were Shadow Warriors, a coalition of various supernatural beings that keep the peace between each other and between our own kind. It’s a damn hard job, but someone has to do it.

More people than I thought. It wasn’t good. I wouldn’t show fear, however. “No, my dear, you made a mistake in ever leaving me or thinking you could ever be free of me and the pack.” Then he snapped his fingers, and like that, we were at war. I swung my blade, taking out as many people as I could. The wolves Axel brought with him lashed out at me first, obviously on Axel’s orders, but I made quick work of them. The others were having a more difficult time, except my brother Kiran. He might not have been as well trained as I was, but my brother was trained by my father to an extent.

I don't know how long can I endure standing here acting as bait and why are they taking so long to attack the beast. I can't wait anymore, so I decided to make the first move. I waved my right hand and release the sword that was forged by a famous blacksmith the Devil's hand. I was about to swing it onto the beast when one of its heads bites into my right arm. The sword immediately drops to the ground and disappeared. The sword is specially designed for me alone and I am the only one who can wield it. The sword will disappear if it is no longer in my possession and I am the only one who can summon it.

Turning away from the others, I point the sword in front of me and almost drop it when a flame shoots out but stops before it touches anything. "Whoa," I say softly. When I turn around, I see Wyatt and Jock have swords, but theirs are slightly different. Wyatt's has a blue handle and shoots out ice, enough to freeze someone in place. Jock's has a green handle and shoots out electricity. "I guess you got your answer," Zoe says, staring at the three of us in shock. I smile and nod. "Now we're prepared to kick some ass. Let's see what the next message says, and then we'll head out." I say, putting my sword in the red sheath that magically appeared at my side. Maybe I'll cut Selene some slack as

Hayley, for example, never showed everyone just how cruel she was. The male, Soren, lunged at Joe, who backed up near the door. Suddenly, Joe’s eyes darted to the wall. There were several swords hanging there, as if ornamental. But when Joe pulled one down, I knew they weren’t merely for decoration. “A sword? Let’s settle this as wolves, outside!” Soren growled. “As wolves? No, as warriors. Our ancestors used these swords too—they didn’t rely solely on their wolves. Are you afraid I’ll kill you, Soren?” Joe taunted.

Then, with a sudden burst of movement, the duel began. The fight began with a clash of swords that echoed through the hall, each strike a testament to the warriors' skill and determination. Lucius gritted his teeth, feeling the weight of Kehola's energy-infused sword humming in his hands. The crowd leaned forward in silence, their breaths held as the duel unfolded.

It smelled of damp stone, old hay, and solitude. Makil was already there, warming up with a series of fluid stretches that further betrayed his training. He wore similar clothes to yesterday, and two practice longswords were thrust into the ground at the center of the yard. Leigh arrived silently, a shadow detaching from the deeper shadows of the archway. She'd re-braided her hair tightly. She said nothing, simply walked to the center, pulled one sword from the earth, and tested its weight. "No rules," Makil said, pulling the other. "First to yield, or be disarmed."

They were vicious against enemies, the shapeless assassins and spies that could penetrate the defences of any threat whilst also providing aid to those that they obey. A faint shuddering in the shadows hinted at the appearance of the wolves. They moved cautiously, looking to avoid the last of the dappled light that fell between the pine trees. Slowly their forms took shape like watery images of beasts, their bodies floating and swirling like smoke and mist. Behind the witch, the warriors shifted uneasily, still not used to seeing these curious creatures. “Look, Signe! Do you see them?” Estrid cooed to her daughter, pointing to the first of the shadowy figures that stepped out from the roilin