Dragonslayer 2 Novels & Stories

Amelia POV The pain of the dragon monster's bite was crippling my leg. Ying was flying over and closing in on us, as Verena stood mere inches from me. Now was my chance. As I was about to stab her, additional commotion broke out behind me, and soon, her dragon monsters multiplied. There were at least two dozen of them, appearing out of thin air almost, stalking me from behind. Ying was flying low, and next thing I knew, Lord Wong jumped in the disarray of this situation, pulling the dragon like a monster off my leg, injuring it with his sword. Verena hissed at this intrusion, and for a second her focus was on him, her aura lifted off me a little and I used it to plunge the Elven blade into h

"Who the hell do you think you are a girl?" Glaring at him, my hand tightened around the dagger. "You dare torture a symbol of our hope?" I hissed. Laughing, the guard turned to a few other men that had gathered. "I'll say my question again." Leaning closer, his breath fanned over my face. "Who the hell... do you think you are, girl?" Raising the dagger to his throat, I felt anger seep into my veins. My body started to tingle as my vision became clearer. "I am Abagail Stone. Dragon Rider of Aurora." Pushing the blade closer to his throat, I watched his eyes move to my left.

Chase asked. “The darker the shade, the stronger the beast,” Elder Victor said. “Do not question Typhon’s decision, this bond is for life,” Abeloth said and merged with me once again. “As with the merging of your dragon Sire Lucas, these two gray dragons are immensely powerful and yet their names would suggest that they are warriors as well, Brantley means fire and Abeloth means the creator of chaos,” Elder Michael said as they noted our dragons down in the books. “Thank you Elders,” Lucas said and I watched Chase’s face.

The dragon blinked a final time and averted its eyes somewhere else as if it had heard her whisper and honored her plea. That was weird. Although the dragon had looked elsewhere, Evrah couldn't help but stare at it. She watched the destruction and chaos it brought to life. The obliteration it seemed to revel in. All of them seemed to be enjoying their devastating results. She had watched them chase folks down, spitting the elements and flame in the direction of her fellows. She had watched as they set everything ablaze, their massive wings fanning the flames as they burned the brightness and vibrancy of existence into nothingness.

He lets out an exhausted sigh once again, pointing his face forward. "It'd seem I still have a long way to go. Much of your horde still looks at me with contempt," he comments. "Dragons have been reclusive for many years now, and we are very wary of outsiders. Not to mention your kind is our natural enemy." "You're right, I suppose," he says, flashing me a broad smile. "Do not worry, they will accept you in time," I assure him, "Dragon slayers played a major part during The Fires of Alira. Much of my horde lived back in those days. Time may not heal all wounds, but understanding can."

Lysander stayed close to me, the dagger blazing in his hand, its pale blue light pushing back the darkness that crept toward us from all sides. I raised the Kingslayer. The gold beneath my skin surged, hot and bright, and the blade blazed with light, gold and silver intertwined. The shadow wolves recoiled, hissing, covering their red eyes, but they did not retreat. They could not retreat. They were bound to Lorna's will, and Lorna's will was bound to the king.

She flared her nostrils and breathed out a powerful gust, ripping the saber from his grasp. "Your mom lost to me, and so will you," Arlyaen hissed and charged at her, his voice brimming with cold resolve. However, he froze in his tracks when fresh blood suddenly oozed from the sides of his lips. His eyes widened, staring down at the bloody claws that had penetrated him from behind. "You..." he gasped, staggering as he turned. What he saw stole the breath from him—another white dragon, standing silently behind him. He snapped his gaze forward again, blinking in disbelief. Indeed, there were now two dragons; one was solid, while the other wavered in and out of existence.

It lashed out, destroying tables and chairs with a single swipe of its tail. I turned to the second dragonling still in its cage. Its violet eyes began to glow—just like the first one. “We have to stop them before this gets any worse,” Daran said, rising to his feet. “But how?” I asked, my voice trembling with desperation.

That was because, right now, the legendary fight between two majestic dragons took place with a future heavily dependent on both. The fate of the rest of the dragons' slayers was in the hand of Caramel while the fate of the dragons lied on Whitey. When the two dragons collided, Caramel took her chance to escape from her dragon and swung her gold sword with a gold aura to Shadow. She aimed accurately at Shadow’s neck. Shadow just simply turned her body to the side at ease, however. The slash met the air instead of Shadow. “Are you sure you can handle me?” Shadow lifted her brow in wonder.

That is my home. I was about to tell her it was beautiful when she pulled me back and behind a tree. "What?" I whispered. There, she said, pointing. In the distance was a group of three gray dragons. They had metal armor around their arms and legs as well as their heads. "What are they?" I watched them fly, their eyes trained on the landscape below. Her voice quivered lightly as she spoke: Some of the Ondror Slayers. They are looking for me. For us. This time, they will not go so easy on us.