Wrist Blades Novels & Stories

Grace I push myself to my feet, ready to defend myself until the end. The woman on the right lunges for me. I raise my arm in front of my face protectively. A gasp erupts from my mouth as the blade slashes across my wrist. The other two surround me and grab my arms. I thrash, trying to free myself but they have more strength than me. They pull my arms down, exposing my face to the one with the blade. I twist and turn, and watch as she shoots me a vicious look.

With the blade still in my hand, I chopped the man's wrist clean off and kicked him back to the ground with the blade to his throat. This one, I would question...

He snatched at her hand, drawing the blood vigorously from her wrist. She didn't flinch. She let him have a fill of her power. There's more where it came from, I suppose. Panting hard, he backed away. "The blades are still in my body." "I know, that was the anaesthetic. It'll reduced the pain by say fifty percent." "What pain?"

He had a knife. The blade caught the dim light, cold and bright, a little too close to my stomach. He drove it forward. I caught his wrist mid-thrust, but he was stronger than I expected. The steel kissed my side, slicing through fabric and skin. Fire burned under my ribs. Pain shot through me, sharp enough to make me grit my teeth. I did not let go. I slammed his wrist into the brick wall. Once. Twice. The knife clattered to the ground. I rammed my elbow into the side of his head and felt the crunch of bone. He went down hard, clutching his face.

Dawn was the colour of steel left in the rain. The Wraith wore it well, rigging in faint silver, deck boards cool underfoot, men speaking in the hush you give a morning you respect. Kade waited at the waist with the practice blades set aside, and the deck cleared. “Hands only,” he said. “Blades make you lazy.” “I thought blades kept you alive,” I said, rolling my shoulders, finding where the binding tugged over last night’s bruises.

When she comes at me again, I grab ahold of her wrist, twisting her arm behind her back, forcing her to drop one of her blades. Letting her go, I quickly grab the blade off the ground. Before she has a chance to attack with her other blade, I quickly drag the sharp blade just above the heels of her feet, slicing through her Achilles tendon, causing her to let out a scream as she drops to her hands and knees.

He had been concerned about how he would travel around with the blade ever since it returned to his hands. The society nowadays was no longer the same as the ancient martial arts community. People would treat Tyr as a crazy fool if he were to go everywhere while carrying a blade. He also had to go through security checks whenever he used public transportation, which was rather inconvenient. It would be much more convenient for him if he could store the blade in the wrist guards. “I have lifted the restriction and protective spells on the talismans,” Maxime said as he handed the wrist guards back to Tyr. “I’ll show you how to use them.”

she asked me. I rolled on my back, trying to alleviate the pain on my guts. It will probably take me a week the regenerate than much skin. “If only I could,” I said. She extended her right hand sharply in one smooth motion. A sword maybe two feet long swung out of nowhere and extended in her hand. In a spit second, she was armed. The blade was glistening and well cared for. I looked at the crystals on her wrists. Were they where the blade has been stored. I saw no other option. Then I looked at the other crystal on her other wrist. Two swords.

Rain started feeling a familiar nightmarish tickle under her gut. Luna's fingers also twitched a little when she glanced from the corner. A silver blade with a pitch black hilt manifested inside his grip. A thick black chain also wrapped his wrist. Creed's eyes flashed an orange glint. The fabric of space seemed to be caving around the blade's edge that oozed out a thick black misama invisible to naked eyes. "Thanks!" Creed uttered and extended his arm toward him, "Anway! Here… Take this…" "Excuse me?"

She stood next to Warren and rubbed his shoulders in excitement. The lid opened on noiseless hinges, there lay two odd short swords, “They are based on the La Fa Chaux pistol blades. As It was explained to me, they are wildly impractical as weapons. However, if you shape them out of magic, think of the possibilities, all of its strengths, none of its weaknesses.” Warren examined the blades and smiled, “Plus you can stab things if magic fails.” He drew the leather belt and attached the scabbards, “Have we identified the attackers?”