The Sword Of Morning Novels & Stories

My name is Elora and I reside at the Blue Mountain Packhouse. I have a slim figure, long curly blonde hair which I usually wear up in a bun so it is out of my face. My eyes are a deep blue which I love. I am not a normal girl though. You see I am a shewolf, my rank at the packhouse is an omega. I don’t know my parents because they passed away when I was just a tiny baby, so I don’t have any memories of them. The only thing I have is a necklace locket from my mother. I have never taken it off because it makes me feel close to her spirit.

Ellen held Dara’s hand, “The legend says that the Queen shall be pregnant before she turns into a vampire and she’ll be having a warrior inside her when she fights for her people. I know how much milk your body carves these days.” “I don’t know what to do.” Dara cried. “Don’t worry about anything sweetie. This was all planned to be. I may lose you in this war of hate but what you’ll leave behind shall be the biggest gift for me. This won’t be easy honey but I know you’ll do it. I believe you’ll bring your people back together.” Ellen got up from the bed and bowed down to Dara. Wade and William repeated after Ellen. “You are our Queen.” Ellen said.

She looked like she was born for this, born with a sword in her hand. “Aurora is marvelous. She is born for this.” Shalom took a gulp of his water. “And you are getting acquainted with it.” Art grunted in response. To be honest, he still felt strange holding the gilded hilt of the sword. His sword shone in the moon light, pure power. Its hilt was carved with ancient words. It was beauty and strength molded to be one. It was as powerful a weapon, as it was an art. And Shalom said it was Isaiah’s, the one he had used in that battle where he had died. He had said that Théoden’s blood in them gave it more power, more glory.

Then, he saw a sword. I know you. He said to the sword It was a strikingly beautiful sword whose blade glowed in the ruddy moon. It has a two-edged winged blade and it stood dipped into the ground. The grip shone with beautiful stones that enhanced its edges. The blade had some lettering written on it. He moved in closely and began to read it. "Nnkan to o jé temi ni temi, ko si si enikeni to legba momi lowo"

"I didn't teach you properly before. It's time to learn how to behave now." He grabbed my right wrist, pinning it down. "This is the hand that did it, right? This cut will help you remember." The blade plunged into the back of my hand. Searing pain immediately followed the freezing sting of steel. Blood poured out, soaking my sleeve and staining his eyes red. His hand holding the dagger trembled slightly. He seemed shocked that he had actually done it. "Does it hurt?" His voice was hoarse, a flicker of regret quickly masked by coldness. "Good. Pain helps you remember what you can and cannot touch."

Sera POV --- Three days had never felt so long. We spent every waking hour preparing the ambush. The Moonstone Altar stood in a clearing in the neutral territory, exactly halfway between Shadowcrest and Nightshade land. It was ancient stone, weathered by centuries, covered in symbols I couldn't read but which made my lunar power hum with recognition. This was a place of power. The moon's influence was strong here even in daylight. If Thaltos wanted to perform the Harvest ritual, it would be here.

There is a flood of darkness that covers the land, before Lily begins absorbing it into her sword, pulling it out of the air and turning the darkness to light. As we watch, the storm clouds over Eventide clear and the sun comes out for the first time in over a year. Lily slides off of Lucero, walking to the front of the army, facing the Eventide castle. She pulls the sword to her chest, the point aiming straight up to the sky.

However, instead of cutting me, the sword gently touched my hand, leaving a faint, silvery mark. Lady Dyare's eyes widened in surprise, and a hushed murmur spread through the room. It was an unprecedented occurrence. The sword had chosen me without drawing blood. "What does this mean?" I asked, my voice quivering. Lady Dyare stepped forward, her gaze filled with intrigue. "It appears that the Sword of Moonlight has recognized you, Kaerlia," she said. "You are destined for a unique path in this Lunar Clash." A tingling feeling erupted as my combat outfit materialized around me, a stunning silver and white ensemble with moon-shaped patterns. It was clear that I was profoundly connected to the

It burned in my veins, fierce and alive. A sudden gust of wind burst out from around me, lifting the dust and ash. The red moon pulsed. Caden turned toward me, still holding Duncan’s wolf by the throat. His eyes narrowed. “What are you doing?” I didn’t answer. My hand reached out and the sword answered. With a flash of blue light, the Sword of Nytheris vanished from Caden’s grip. He looked down in shock as it dissolved from his hand and flew straight toward mine, slicing through the air like it had been waiting.

It was bone-chilling cold! Even though the sword was covered with frost, people could still feel the waves of killing intent coming from it. The whole sword was slender and angular. It was hard to imagine that it came from Samuel, the loser. There was one word carved on each of the two sides of the sword. Hannigan Sue! On the body of the sword was the word 'Shadow Moon'. This was the name Samuel gave to the sword. Its cold light was like the moon, like a wisp of coldness in the night.