Dragon Throne Novels & Stories

“Is meddling in their civil war a wise move? Isn’t it a waste of our resources to assist their refugees as well?” Draconia was an independent kingdom in the west, one of the few countries in all of Terran that was not under the great Volfenheim Empire or some other nation. It was a small continent, shaped like an enormous sleeping dragon, hence its name. Some believed it was an actual dragon that was in a deep slumber for such a long time, land formed and hid its scales, that once Mount Ormr, the colossal sleeping volcano of Draconia, erupts, the dragon will also wake and will consume the world. It was rich in every resource imaginable. Because of this, it was completely closed off to other

He exhaled once—frustrated, tense, almost… angry. “It won’t stop until it gets what it wants.” “And what does it want?” she whispered. Draven looked at her long enough for fear to crawl under her skin. “Everything,” he said. A tremor split the cavern floor. Light speared up through the cracks—white, blinding, desperate. The throne. Searching for her. Draven grabbed her arm. “Don’t look at the light—” Too late. It swallowed half the cavern in a wave of radiance.

Her smile, laced with blood, looked haunting. A Haunt swept in, scattering the cash and gold bars from the car. Sparks flew, and the flames roared to life with a loud whoosh. I pulled a gold bar from my pocket. "Hear me, infant spirits, it's time for our final showdown!" The winds howled as I watched my mom wail in despair. Her tears were for her wealth, not a shred of worry for me. I spun around and plunged into the swirling darkness without a second thought.

∞∞∞ The throne room still stank of ash and blood. Once a jewel of architecture, the high-arched ceiling now bore soot scars from dragonfire. Half the stained glass had melted, leaving jagged holes where sunlight poured in without mercy. The dais had been stripped bare; her father’s throne replaced with nothing but a carved obsidian slab. And he sat atop it like he had always belonged there. The Dragon Warlord. He didn’t wear a crown. He was one.

The one my mother told about in the story. Seeing the diamond graffiti written in dark red liquid on its temple, I know it was that dragon. The vetrik Jihn drakon. Its chest began to appear red as if the beast swallowed tons of coals on its throat. Its eyes glowed dark while its huge snout began to open in what seemed to be prepared to release something.

I feel a lump in my throat, “It wants us to bring everything back.” “Don’t Tru. We can convince it to keep things the way they are now,” Taran says in a plea. I shake my head, “It is too late. I brought everything back when my magic awoke. There is nothing we can do.” “I won’t lose you, Tru. You’re mine.” The same voice whispers, “I have a plan. We need all the dragons to restore the kingdom. I know how to keep them away from you.” Curious, I leave my room and get the stone out of its box. It is no longer black but glowing orange. Softly, I ask, “What is your plan?”

Freya asks. “Call your brother now. He will confirm.” The man answers. “Who is our brother?” Mythi asks to test the man. “Black Dragon of Dark Knight.” The man answers again. “Call him.” “Mythi, video call oppa now! Hurry!” Freya tells her sister while staying on her fighting stance. “Okay, unnie.” Mythi says and contacts her brother. He answers immediately. His face looks worried on the screen. “Mythi? Why? What happened? Are you girls okay?” JD asks on the phone.

He wore two silver earrings, one on each ear depicting a roaring dragon and a tied dark red headband. He breathed in deep, enjoying the scent of pine and honey suckle while listening to the sounds of birds chirping. He enjoyed the stillness of the woods. It provided a sense of peace he rarely got to enjoy. He had lived in the Zlona-Sintar village his whole life. It was a tiny village nestled deep in the Sintar Woods, the most treacherous woodland in the land of Ocrad, ruled by the Ishtar Dynasty. Kronos had only experienced brief glimpses of the outside world when he was away on work assignments for his people, the pride and fierce descendants of the dragons that had once called Ocrad home,

“With the help of me and my four brothers. That first video is real, and it is my brother Mitchell. Each of my brothers' dragons is a different color. Mine happens to be red.” I just sat staring at him. “What about those dreams all those months ago?” “My great grandfather had a gift and I think I inherited it. Yet somehow this gift brought you into it. Somehow you experienced what I was.” “And this bonding dream? Are you saying we are bonded for life?” “Yeah. My dragon recognized you even through the dreams as my mate.” I look over at the TV and saw Draco the dragon. “You look like that only red?” He smiled as he looked at the screen, “I would like to think my dragon is nicer looking.”

“It’s a long story but she was presumed dead and the other woman got pregnant so I married her. My friend and I went to Montana to find a missing girl and by chance I saw her, she had no memory of who I was or her previous life and I knew from other cases that going to the dragon realm would bring her memories back.” “You just go to the dragon realm?” he asked me. “Abeloth grants me passage,” I said. “So the gray dragon is the strongest in existence then,” he murmured softly and I didn’t think that he intended for me to hear that. “So in the dragon realm Typhon bonded us since we were bonded halves,” I said. “You’ve met Typhon?” he asked me with wide eyes. “Haven’t you? Don’t we all meet Typ