Dragonage Novels & Stories

she replied evenly, “that when unrest touches dragons who have known peace for centuries, the cause is rarely political alone.” My thoughts drifted to the reports filtering north—of dissent, of whispered accusations, of an unborn child becoming a target simply for existing. “Madrigals,” I said quietly. There was a pause. Not denial. Consideration. “They were bridges,” my mother said. “Between realms. Between natures. Between what was and what might be.” “And now?” I asked. “And now,” she replied, “those who exist between worlds will feel the strain first.” My dragon growled low in agreement.

The sky over the Shattered Vale burned with the aftermath of war, smoke rising in black plumes, molten rivers casting eerie light over the battlefield. Soldiers, exhausted and battered, pressed forward, rallying behind the king who now moved like living fire. Verath Dravenor, Dragon King, had fully unleashed his power, wings spanning the horizon, scales glowing molten gold. Every step he took scorched the ground, yet his focus was unwavering, tethered by the bond that connected him to Elara.

Sergeant Miller dragged a militia member with a corroded wound backward. I took a deep breath. We could not retreat. I took off my jacket and stood bare-chested on the highest point of the reef. At that moment, I pushed the Dragon Lord talent to its limit. Golden light surged from my chest and spread through my blood vessels across my body. Faint scale patterns appeared on my skin, and my eyes turned into vertical pupils. Half-dragon form, unlocked ahead of schedule. "Break." Golden pressure swept outward from me like a tangible storm.

“Master, what would you like us to do? You need only whisper your command, and we will follow.” Evrah grabbed the wood harder, her gaze darting quickly from left to right, trying to get a closer look. She spotted a big shimmering black dragon that seemed to be looking right at her. The big eye blinked, its big frame fidgeting a bit. A huge black and silver mass of scales and muscles sat directly across from her, its ginormous purple eyes had her dead to rites, and they both knew it. “Please don't give me way,” she whispered, shaking from fear. She cursed that her curiosity had gotten her noticed. The dragon blinked a final time and averted its eyes somewhere else as if it had heard her whisp

Ona had been the one to show me that it was a history of sorts, a retelling of the foundations of the master lines from which all other dragon varieties diverge, "What if I were to tell you that Oestre had no mate?" He pulls out another book, one bound in black fabric and sewn with silver thread. "That the mother of us all was herself a universal dragon. A lone traveler from another universe who dreamed this realm into reality." Bringing the book to a table he opens it to reveal a wonderous illustration. Etched in metallic ink, it shows a beautiful golden dragon surrounded by shadow. "Oestre wasn't the first dragon. She was the last one," he reads the symbols on the edge of the pages, a lang

She asked, not knowing if it really mattered, but she hoped that it would help. Vivienne answered, “Xander Voidwalker, dragon of void, Lucian Lightbrighter, dragon of light, Darius Stone, dragon of Earth, Cassius Stromrider, dragon of Storm, Kieran Frost, dragon of Ice, Lean Blackthorn, dragon of Shadow and Kai Morrison, dragon of fire.” The names resonated through Maya like a physical force, each striking a different chord within her. She swayed, overwhelmed by the sudden influx of sensations—her newly awakened dragon nature responding to each male in ways her human mind couldn't process.

Osiris pointed out. "The vision is unclear but I saw the spilling of blood and it scented the whole battlefield. And in the midst of the deads, there stood only two. A princess whose presence is of lucent hope and the other of the obscure darkness-the red dragon of an ancient story. Vetrik Jihn Drakon, the most powerful and detestably evil dragon of all." Leera stated in a trance as if she was seeing it happening before her. Her brows creased in concentration like she wanted to dissect every minute detail of the vision she might have received.

“I took a different route just in case Antoh was on our tail. Since we’d already decided to stay in a motel, I didn’t think it would matter.” “It was actually very clever of you, my Chloe,” he said with a smile. “What is your full name?” she asked. “My name is Tristan,” he said with confusion. “I know that, but is that all there is to your name?” she asked. “Surface humans have at least two names to identify them. My name is Chloe Kensington. Chloe identifies me, and Kensington identifies the family I belong to.” “I see,” Tristan said thoughtfully. “We do things similar in Manthella. Tristan identifies me and Dragonas is the name of my family or clan. When I sign something, it is with Tr

Anya, ‘Hi’ Arya, ‘Hello wild cat. Anya, ‘Thank you so much. This wouldn't have happened without your information.’ Arya, ‘I know! So, ready for your promotion?’ Anya, ‘What promotion? Arya, ‘Aww! Are you hurt my wild cat?’ His tone sent a chill down her spine and left her heart racing. This was wrong! Why was Arya trying to stake his claim over her? Anya, ‘I am not yours! Stop calling me that. Thanks for everything. I need to go now.’

Dupont answered him with a weak grin, “I’m not that knowledgeable about dragons... Like I said, I just bought it somewhere.” “So, it’s really fire resistant, huh?” Mar asked Johan, looking at the tunic and tights as well. “Yeah, very usefull for situations like that one.” replied Johan, pointing at the burned pile of clothes he just took off. “And the fire doesn’t harm you?” Althea asked, suddenly beside him. “Nope,” Johan frowned. “Kinda like lightning don’t work on Dorin...” he said, “it’s just part of me.” Just then, a shadow passed from above. They looked up and saw Azra and Dagon entering the tower through the non-existent roof. Seb raised his right arm where Azra gently perched. Dagon