Zoro Artwork Novels & Stories

I hide my dagger in the shadows before I start to swim near Leviathan. ‘I am not Belphegor’s henchman.’ I say. Perhaps starting to talk to Leviathan would allow me to get him to lower his guard. Leviathan has a weak spirit, but his strength is undeniable. If you ask me, I would say that he is just cowardly. ‘My name is Zarah and I am a hunter.’ ‘A hunter? Does that mean that you are going to kill me?!’ ‘No. I am not here to kill you.’ Drat. Maybe I shouldn’t have said that I was a hunter. ‘I am just here to see you.’

I yelled. That was when he finally spoke. “You shouldn’t raise your voice here, Nathan. This place really doesn’t like noise.” He turned around slowly, and I froze. His eyes… they were not normal, yet I couldn’t pull away. It felt like I was falling deeper and deeper into darkness just staring at his eyes. “Nathan, look away,” I heard Zade’s voice from inside of me, snapping me out of whatever that was. “What the hell are you?” “I’m a painter but I paint truth,” he said simply, and the brush behind him continued painting on its own, now sketching a wolf and a woman entwined beneath a blood moon.

The ride was silent and it didn’t help her racking nerves. She felt her palms go wet and unconsciously rubbed them on her hip. In a few seconds they were tuned to arrival. The metal doors opened to the most beautiful art gallery Zipporah had ever seen. She stepped into the stunning room which portrayed a dedication to various forms of art. It held a fascinating amount of space which englobed what resembled a study and several paintings, side by side, on each wall. At the end of the room was a large, black desk before an equally sized chair. Guarding the only furniture in the room, by each side, were two shelves filled with books and miniature sculptures of dog like creatures.

In his hand was a long spear that was as flexible as a flood dragon. "I did," the lady nodded her head, her eyes gleaming in excitement. She may look calm, but she had lived long enough to recognise the energy that came from the edge of the universe. That was the power of Zandor. It had been years since Zandor mysteriously disappeared after losing its gods. Yet now - after so many eons - it had finally reappeared. "That's the power of the Promised Land," the lady licked her lips seductively as her long fingers reached out for a black whip attached to her waist.

"I belong to the Vanguard. I belong to you." Zuri smiled, a breathtaking, brilliant expression that reached all the way to her golden eyes. "Then let me give you the mark of my heart," Zuri said softly. She reached into the pocket of her tunic and pulled out a small, beautifully crafted object. It was a thick, braided choker, woven from the indestructible, luminous green fibers of the Sun-Tree. But in the center of the braid, set in a flawless bezel of iridescent silver, was a jagged, dark piece of iron-shale.