The Blade Of Endless Paths Novels & Stories

She pulled Evelyn down beside her, forcing her to beg as well. Andrea stared at her father, now in a pitiful state. She turned to Colton, their eyes meeting. Gently, she held his hand. “Please, spare him.” Immediately, Colton released Edwin’s arm, and the man collapsed onto the couch, groaning in pain. All this while, Anthony had been watching in shock. How had Andrea managed to tame a mighty dragon like Colton? “I’ll go with you now,” Andrea said calmly, grabbing Colton’s hand. Turning to the men, she added, “Take the gifts as well.”

you take care of him" She replied annoyed and snatched her flute from her hands before walking away. Maya rubbed her face exhausted. "Why are you doing this, Damon?... Mira is not made for you!" Damon smirked when Dil crossed the leading horses. "That's my girl... You are made for me, just like your owner... Fiery and strong!" "His elbow is bleeding!" Durga said in panic. "Is this race more important than his life?" "You don't know, babe!"

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.

Shame this was evening happening to me. Unfortunatly, Damon moved to stand beside Ethan. “These are Twisted Blade push daggers. A tri-edge blade that spirals. Also known as a cyclone blade. They insure maximum damage with little effort. When used correctly, it will increase our killing effectiveness by 10%. Your opposite will bleed out before their wolf will be able to heal them.”

“The moon lady says… *listen*.” The Goddess’s voice softens. *“The bloodlines are one. The path is yours to choose—unity or ruin.”* The ruins shudder. A hidden door grinds open, revealing a chamber bathed in golden light. Inside lies a pedestal, a dagger resting atop it—its blade forged from moonlight, its hilt carved with twin flames. Ryland picks it up, his breath catching. “The Heart of the Grove.” Silas touches the blade. Symbols flare—Cross and Solara entwined. “It’s for us.”

In the process, he had forgotten that he had once loved me too. Hazily, I heard someone calling my name. When I snapped back to reality, I saw Dad plunging a dagger through his chest. Even so, he was smiling. Slowly, I, too, faded away, with nothing left to feel.

“We’re close to the waterfall.” Quinn’s lips curve into a smile and we start forward again. I break a spiderweb out of Quinn’s way at the last second. We’re on a less popular trail, going to see one of the smaller waterfalls. We haven’t seen anyone else out here in a while, which has been nice. The world seems to fade away when Quinn’s with me like we’re the only two left in it. The path gets a little steep and slippery with wet rocks and mud. I keep a tight grip on Quinn’s hand, but she doesn’t need any help. Emerging through a thick of trees, we see the waterfall.

The air shimmered with energy, a hum vibrating through the room, resonating with my heartbeat. Hours passed, and sweat ran down my brow, but I did not stop. Every swing, every chant, every breath infused the weapon with my soul. When it was finally finished, the blade glowed faintly with a silver-blue light, a heartbeat away from sentience. Holding it, I could feel my tribrid energy resonate within it. This was no ordinary weapon, it was a symbol, a promise, a storm yet to be unleashed.

The land itself groaned beneath their feet. The rift pulsed like a heart, veins of black light spiderwebbing out into the soil. “Hold formation,” Kieran barked. Elizabeth stepped forward, her golden aura flaring. Solbrand gleamed, hungry for battle. And then, Something stepped through. Tall. Slender. A silhouette of thorns and starlight. Its voice boomed in their minds. “She burns with the Flame of the End. She must be unmade.” Kieran didn’t wait.

My knees gave out. Above us, the red sky darkened as if the moon itself had turned away. Wolves howled across the battlefield, their connection to me fading like a dying flame. The blade slid free from my chest. Warm blood spilled down my skin and over my hands. I pressed my palm against the wound without thinking, as if pressure alone could force fate to change its mind. Across the ruined ground, Kaelor dragged himself toward me, leaving a trail of blood behind him. “Nyxara,” he kept saying.