Story cover for BLADE - on Hold by rainingturtle
BLADE - on Hold
  • WpView
    Reads 2,735
  • WpVote
    Votes 140
  • WpPart
    Parts 9
  • WpHistory
    Time 1h 31m
  • WpView
    Reads 2,735
  • WpVote
    Votes 140
  • WpPart
    Parts 9
  • WpHistory
    Time 1h 31m
Ongoing, First published Jan 01, 2015
Hundreds of years ago, humans avoided a complete annihilation. On one condition: they had to be strong enough to fight their enemies before a millennium.  At that time, a sword was given to the humans by the enemies. They said that if someone pulled the sword out of the rock they pierced it in, human race would be finally ready for war with them. 

Jayce Reynard was always getting beat up, bullied, or picked on. Just because he was different. Just because he had white hair and red eyes. He was living a painful, but normal life until the day his dad was killed by a dog like monster. Seeking revenge, he chased down the monster deep into a mountain, but instead of killing the thing, he just almost died himself. His will to survive was greater than ever when he found a sword stuck to a rock right in front of him. He pulled out the sword and slayed the demon. But when he did, he never would have thought that a small revenge would force him into a secret war that has been going on for hundreds of years.

Hello readers! Thank you for even clicking on BLADE, but it would be great if you could comment and vote as well. Hope you enjoy my story!
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that one SWURD by xyltharion
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Long ago, when the world was young and humanity struggled against the forces of chaos, the gods intervened. They forged a sword, not as a weapon of destruction, but as a gift of hope. Each god poured a fragment of their essence into it-courage, wisdom, resilience, and strength. It's a sword meant for everything possible. For centuries, the blade lay hidden, waiting for the right moment to be discovered. It wasn't buried in gold or locked away in a grand vault-it rested quietly in the heart of the earth, untouched and unseen, until the time was right. When the first hand grasped the hilt, the sword came alive. Its surface shimmered with an otherworldly glow, a promise of the power within. The one who found it didn't know the gods had shaped it, nor did they understand the weight of what they held. But the sword recognized them. It responded to their strength, their resolve, and their needs. As the blade cut through the darkness for the first time, it wasn't just its edge that brought change. It was the force behind it-the will to fight for survival, for something greater than fear. With every swing, the sword grew brighter, stronger, as if it fed not on blood but on purpose. Though the gods forged the blade, it wasn't theirs anymore. In that moment, it became part of humanity, a bond between the divine and mortal worlds. And for the one who wielded it, the sword was more than steel and magic-it was a companion, a guide, and a silent promise: you are not alone. Thus began the sword's journey, not just as a tool of battle, but as a symbol of what humanity could become. And though its path was just beginning, the gods knew it would go on, far beyond what even they could imagine. (this is my very first novel. I got my inspiration from a nail clipper)
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that one SWURD

9 parts Ongoing

Long ago, when the world was young and humanity struggled against the forces of chaos, the gods intervened. They forged a sword, not as a weapon of destruction, but as a gift of hope. Each god poured a fragment of their essence into it-courage, wisdom, resilience, and strength. It's a sword meant for everything possible. For centuries, the blade lay hidden, waiting for the right moment to be discovered. It wasn't buried in gold or locked away in a grand vault-it rested quietly in the heart of the earth, untouched and unseen, until the time was right. When the first hand grasped the hilt, the sword came alive. Its surface shimmered with an otherworldly glow, a promise of the power within. The one who found it didn't know the gods had shaped it, nor did they understand the weight of what they held. But the sword recognized them. It responded to their strength, their resolve, and their needs. As the blade cut through the darkness for the first time, it wasn't just its edge that brought change. It was the force behind it-the will to fight for survival, for something greater than fear. With every swing, the sword grew brighter, stronger, as if it fed not on blood but on purpose. Though the gods forged the blade, it wasn't theirs anymore. In that moment, it became part of humanity, a bond between the divine and mortal worlds. And for the one who wielded it, the sword was more than steel and magic-it was a companion, a guide, and a silent promise: you are not alone. Thus began the sword's journey, not just as a tool of battle, but as a symbol of what humanity could become. And though its path was just beginning, the gods knew it would go on, far beyond what even they could imagine. (this is my very first novel. I got my inspiration from a nail clipper)