Dragonslayer Characters Novels & Stories

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 sat down awkwardly staring at great-gran, feeling so uneasy. "I never thought the day would come, when I would meet the offspring of Arkalis. I thought I would have joined my ancestors. I am glad to have set my eyes upon you, before I joined my ancestors." He smiled warmly at me. For a man who looks like he could die at anytime, he actually has a great and strong voice. "Arkalis?" I questioned. "Yes Arkalis. He is the name of the sorcerer that made the spell. The one responsible for men turning to dragons. And you are the descendants of that man." Mrs hardy answered.

I spent hours studying the text. I learned about Alice's Dragon, referred to in ancient languages as the 'Rare Healer of Fire.' This unique dragon was gifted with ancient magic. If the Rare Healer of Fire mated with another dragon, they would be reborn as humans but retain the ability to use dragon magic without their dragon forms.

And his younger brother, who was slightly on the sane side, but unfortunately his brother knew nothing about it. “She is only plan B, dad. This time, Clan Firestorm will be destroyed. We deserve the power. We are as powerful as they are!” I heard his voice, and it made me want to peel my skin off. I was an idiot. Most of the dragons living in Draconià are now clanless, except a few clans from powerful ancient blood lineage. He was an idiot. He knew the crown chose Clan Firestorm. Before the Storms were royals, it was another clan. I don’t remember much about what happened. I had never been good at school, anyway.

Garry stepped in, "You should get to know everyone else as well. Then, you can talk to your cousin later." He walked me around Kat and introduced the other three. He started with the first two on the left. They both had yellow eyes with light yellow hair, "These are Sam and Samuel Laseus. They're twins, as you can clearly see." "I didn't know dragons could have twins." "If a dragon lays two eggs instead of one, they'll always be identical twins." Thinking about the twin's last name, I asked them, "So you're related to the magic teacher Terry then?"

I was the lowest-born black serpent in the Serpent Clan, yet the Dragon Court's most honored crown prince chose me as his bride. He gave up his betrothal to my sister, surrendered his place as heir, and walked away from the Dragon Court for me. I was moved beyond words and became his wife. But after I gave birth to only a black serpent, he flew into a rage. He crushed our baby beneath his foot, then killed me with a single strike of his sword. As I was dying, I saw hatred burning in his eyes. "If I'd known you were this useless, I should've married your sister!" Only then did I learn the truth. I was the woman of fate named in the Dragon Court's forbidden book, the one born with primord

The warlord stood. He was taller than she'd expected. Broader, too. Built like a creature shaped for war, but moved like he could vanish and strike in the same breath. As a child, she had often wondered what a dragon might look like in human skin—a question whispered between old books and nursery rhymes, half-believing it was myth. But if you ever did see one, it was said to be the last sight your eyes would know. And now, here he was: terrifyingly real, terrifyingly calm. A dragon made flesh. And he was looking at her like she was already burning. "You are Sera of House Vaelir," he said, descending toward her with deliberate, predator-slow steps.

Dragons. Not the gentle, myth-bound creatures she had read about in the hidden library of her childhood, but beasts forged in flame and shadow, chained by oaths older than any crown. Their roars shattered stone, their firestorms turned fields into glass. And at their center, gliding as if he ruled the storm, was Thalric Veynor. The duke had broken his final mask. No longer the scheming noble with whispered threats, he was commander of a dragon host, his armor gleaming blood-red in the inferno.

After careful questioning about the current situation in the area, Christine and her Uncle Liam made their way to the temple in Dragon Claw City. Heirs to the Dragon Claw Warlocks have always been rare, with no more than three siblings in a generation. Christine's grandfather had two sons, the eldest Alexander and the second Liam, of whom only Christine's father Alexander awakened the Dragon Vein Warlock bloodline. Liam did not awaken, but he did have the Dragon Vein, so he easily understood the fighting spirit and became a knight.

He stared down the long-stretched ledge, the army continued from one end to the other, there must have been at least three to four hundred men charging towards them. “By the Divine, how can we fight back this many. Father guide me?” Thought Drykator. The sudden sound of the dragon screeching overhead again caught everyone's attention “Who is that?” Gravland indicated with a quick nod to the small person thrusting a long dagger deep into the dragon's back. “Drago the Dragonslayer, we can rely on him to do his job” Drykator replied with a small grin on his face.