The Sword's Song - Nyna - Wattpad

The Sword's Song

Reads 3,959
Votes 214
Parts 10
Time 1h 39m

Reads 3,959
Votes 214
Parts 10
Time 1h 39m

fantasy legend myth novella opennovellacontest2019 prompt shortstory sword thenovellaawards wattpadindia wattys2019

ONC#2019 Long List 

The legends spoke of it, the myths whispered of it too; tales of a sword, forged in hope and wrought in despair, drawn out in light and quenched in darkness, made by a simple blacksmith, yet a blade so powerful that it could even destroy the Gods. 

It is believed that the swordsman worthy of lifting this sword was a true warrior, one who would be rendered invincible. And those who survived the battles fought alongside this warrior, swore that they could hear the blade sing.

It was during the darkest battles, where the very existence of the world was threatened, that the blade would find its blade master, the warrior who would need it to fight the battle, to hope for a chance at victory. At least that is what was believed, for no battle seemed dire enough to have the blade appear in the last four thousand years.

Four thousand, one hundred and sixty five years after the last recorded tale of the battle,where the blade had appeared, sixteen year old Aindri, much to her shock and delight, discovers that the legends are true and the myths are facts. But then what the myths guarded was a fearsome secret; for the sword to be rendered powerful, it needed a sacrifice, a price to be paid, willingly...

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fantasy legend myth novella opennovellacontest2019 prompt shortstory sword thenovellaawards wattpadindia wattys2019

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The Before. There was a time before, a time of a great war, a time there were two kingdoms. War rampaged on the heels of jealousy bred by men's contemptuous hate and fueled by their desire to take what wasn't theirs. Two Kings fought wanting what the other had, holding the Bythe's fire at the tip of his knife The King of the South snuffed it out stealing with him the Jewel of the north. I am Bellary. I live with the tales of the before filling my dreams, and ringing in my ears, I am known as the Silent Princess of Loch. My voice was taken from me by force, an assassination failed. Left with the scars of my abusers to remind me and everyone daily. Haunted by nightmares, and faceless voices calling out to me I hide away in the walls of the castle, under the excuse that it's for my protection under the rule of my neurotic father and overprotective brother I have never tasted freedom. My father's constant fear that the men attacked me would be back to finish the job. I was insecure, maimed, and riddled with shame. The itch in my brain that I was missing something buzzed in my brain, there was a fire in my veins that called to be lit. With no words to speak I filled the void with the written word, I devoured the written word like a lioness hunting prey, and studying languages became my lover and I worshiped them passionately. Being a walking ghost among my kingdom, I heard words drifting on the wind, dripping from the walls and floating off of people like a permeating perfume. They were whispering warnings, the north was awakening, the north was angry, the north was coming. The north was seeking, the north was calling Ophelia home.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐌𝐞𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐧 by Moraten_may

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The Taukiri Chronicles Vol 1 cover

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The Before. There was a time before, a time of a great war, a time there were two kingdoms. War rampaged on the heels of jealousy bred by men's contemptuous hate and fueled by their desire to take what wasn't theirs. Two Kings fought wanting what the other had, holding the Bythe's fire at the tip of his knife The King of the South snuffed it out stealing with him the Jewel of the north. I am Bellary. I live with the tales of the before filling my dreams, and ringing in my ears, I am known as the Silent Princess of Loch. My voice was taken from me by force, an assassination failed. Left with the scars of my abusers to remind me and everyone daily. Haunted by nightmares, and faceless voices calling out to me I hide away in the walls of the castle, under the excuse that it's for my protection under the rule of my neurotic father and overprotective brother I have never tasted freedom. My father's constant fear that the men attacked me would be back to finish the job. I was insecure, maimed, and riddled with shame. The itch in my brain that I was missing something buzzed in my brain, there was a fire in my veins that called to be lit. With no words to speak I filled the void with the written word, I devoured the written word like a lioness hunting prey, and studying languages became my lover and I worshiped them passionately. Being a walking ghost among my kingdom, I heard words drifting on the wind, dripping from the walls and floating off of people like a permeating perfume. They were whispering warnings, the north was awakening, the north was angry, the north was coming. The north was seeking, the north was calling Ophelia home.