Baju Dragon Novels & Stories

Sophia swallowed as she stepped forward. “Who are you?” The dragon, now a man, stared at her with his dragon eyes. “You have no recollection of what happened, do you?” When Sophia didn’t answer, he huffed indignantly. “No wonder,” he sighed. “I am Jarus, King of the Dragonae Kingdom. I am a good friend of Elijah Trueblade… and yours.” ~O~O~O~ “K-King,” Jennifer stuttered. “Relax, Jenny,” Sophia whispered without taking her eyes off the dragon. “He will not harm us.”

Then it dawns on them, crisp and clear, they’ve lost the clasp-Amira’s hair claps made of musgravite stone. ~~~ A full grown red-winged beast flying through the airy womb of sky and gliding through the mountains high and low meets with two other humongous dragons, one that can easily be identified as a rock dragon with the semi-stones covering its entirety while the other one, a desert dragon dominated by Khaki and four sharp horns that curves up to it neck. With the direction they are navigating, one can tell they’re off to the Kingdom of Hauraya. “Can you explain to me what happened?” Douman, the sovereign among the gold dragons, demands answer from his youngest daughter, Alianah, who just

I rocked back and forth in joy. Lexus stared at me the whole time, even when we weren’t speaking. “It’s a meal only served on special occasions. They say the recipe calls for a little bit of pixie dust as a spice.” I wasn’t sure how pixie dust tasted but if that’s what made it so good then it was maybe the best ingredient ever. Participating in dragon shifter culture pleased my dragon self and the rest of myself too.

“Well we can’t go watch a carnival or a circus show with you in that dress, your sword by your side” She nodded, she understood his point no matter how badly she wanted to protest, “Dragomir promise me I do not have to wear this for any longer than necessary…” He looked at her and smiled, “We are only there for the dragons remember”, he pulled out a dress and placed it on her arm, “Go change into this and see if they fit, it’s simple and…”, he trailed off not saying anything. Raisel studied the ocean blue dress in her hands, “You want me to try this on?”

“You could never let me down, beautiful. You are so strong and you, my sweet girl, are going to make one incredible dragon some day.” She throws herself into my arms again. “I love you, Zephyr.” “I love you, my beautiful Nova.” Then I stand going into my room next door. I had never gotten rid of the battle outfit I wore when I was killing for Oliver. It was an old outfit, something from the days when humans fought on top of dragons. The armor shifts as I do, so it expands when I’m a dragon and contracts when I’m a human.

I finished another shower, dried off, and donned a sea foam green pair of pants and matching bandeau top. I spent a little more time on my hair since it was for the coronation, pulling it high on top of my head before braiding it, then wrapping it in a bun. In between dressing and doing my hair, I went to the window in search of a dragon. Each time I left disappointed.

My silver ponytail was held back by a matching purple headband, and my dragon-hide combat boots were a pristine, blinding white. “You’re really leaning into the ‘I don’t care’ aesthetic today, aren’t you?” Elara asked, gesturing to my headband while she aggressively buttered a piece of toast. “Most people are wearing dragon-hide and chainmail, and you look like you’re ready for a light jog through a meadow.”

Her horns arched backward in elegant cruelty, and her presence carried the chill of disdain wrapped in formal command. "The Warlord commands your presence in court," she said flatly. "You will dress." No name. No greeting. No recognition of what she’d endured. The woman stepped farther into the room and extended an arm, revealing a bundle of robes folded with surgical precision. Deep crimson silk, embroidered with black thread that shimmered like dancing firelight. Regal. Warning. A dragon's color. "Now," she added, tone sharp as a blade, before tossing the garment onto the foot of the ruined bed like throwing meat to a tethered beast.

Rows and rows of woman’s clothing are hanging on the opposite side of Creeds stuff. Dresses, all different kinds of shirts, jeans, shorts, lingerie… anything and everything. Even a huge shoe rack in the corner. I check the sizes and everything will fit perfectly, I’m skimming my hands along the fabrics hanging when I touch something silky soft. I pull at it and gaps when I see the full dress. Light purple fabric, sweetheart neckline, a short slit from the bottom to my right knee, thin spaghetti straps and a built in bra. It’s truly beautiful. I’ve read somewhere that the colour purple is alluring.

Years of feeling suppressed by her made fighting back feel like a release, a way to make her experience a fraction of the pain I had endured. And to think, a party had been thrown in my honor. I quickly washed up and was about to get dressed when the door swung open, and several ladies entered. "I am Dragon, the best stylist in the world!" one of them proclaimed arrogantly. I raised an eyebrow at him. His name suggested a fierce persona, but I suspected he was a man dressing as a woman, and his voice certainly supported my guess. "Don’t worry, princess. Your beauty is my responsibility. Let me prepare you for the evening, shall we?" He extended his hand and bowed dramatically.