Tale Of The Yellow Dragon Novels & Stories

'' ''I will tell you a story, listen carefully, there was once a young girl about your age, barely seventeen in a tiny town called Pumwa who could bind lightning, those were very troubling times, two fierce and powerful dragon lords were at war with each other, The conqueror and The whip, her family was dirt poor and with the war her older brother was stolen from the fields were he worked with other boys who were also taken, in the midst of all that hunger and chaos, she was marked with the dragon seal, a new dragon egg had hatched and with it a new dragon lord had emerged to whom she was a sage and then began what came to be known as the great hunt these two men both ransacked Hanorak in se

Her eyes never left her husband who was leaning against his chair. “We've ruled this kingdom for nine hundred years before Vincent's father took over. And now, his son." Mr Gael started. He pushed to rest his face on his right hand with a long sigh. " I've never set my eyes on a dragon this huge Roseline. That dragon isn't a shifter. It's what we have been looking for for the past generations,” he concluded. Roseline dropped the teacup on the well polished jade tray and raised her head to meet his eyes. "What are you trying to suggest? Coincidence happen–”

Where they surrendered the part of themselves even war could not scorch: softness. She had never believed them. Those stories were remnants of older times, when dragons ruled openly and magic threaded through the bones of the world. Silly things. Fairy tales. But standing here—surrounded by gold and heat and the scent of Rhazien—she knew this was real. This wasn’t legend. It was declaration. And he had made it for her.

The end of the world smelled of sulfur and crushed violets. Princess Saoirse, the last true blood of the Dragon Kings, stood before the cracked vanity mirror in the servant’s quarters. Her hands trembled violently as she destroyed her birthright. The paste—a foul mixture of river mud, crushed walnut shells, and soot—felt cold and slimy against her scalp. Outside, the sky was bleeding. The Dragon Kingdom of Aethelgard, a realm of glass spires and singing winds, was dying. It wasn't dying quietly. It was screaming under the iron treads of the Empire’s war machines.

Enraged, Y stood up, took out his napkin, cleaned his shoe, and roared, "WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?" A group of terrified armed werewolves came to view and one of them explained in a quivering tone, "Sire we are under attack! A dragon emerged out of nowhere and-" Y thundered, "A DRAGON? We have prepared for a dragon attack! What the fuck is it about the stupid sirens? I was about to enjoy My DESSERT!" Another poor werewolf spoke, "Alpha King, He is accompanied by a-" He was interrupted by the furious Y, "BY A WHAT?"

Silence consumed the clearing. No one moved. No one breathed. Beyond the fracture, enormous shadows drifted through the pale violet light. They were unmistakable now dragons. But wrong. Their shapes were twisted, their wings unnaturally long, their scales glimmering like shards of obsidian. Their eyes burned with the same pale violet glow as the creatures from the forest. The Dragon Kings. Dead dragons that should have remained legends. Elara felt cold. “That’s impossible,” Kael whispered.

Not pulled from my grasp. Not reclaimed by his. Vanished. That was not something my men had done. We withdrew with eight remaining from the other realm. Four of Vaereth's men, seven of mine. Five captured. Back in the quarry cavern, tension ignited immediately. “You did not tell us everything,” the elder dragon accused. “Explain.” “She is not diluted Madrigal.” Cold slid through my veins. “What are you suggesting?” “She carries first-line fae blood.” Silence fell hard.

It's so astonishing that he's unable to take his eyes off of hers. But then he grips the reign of his behaviour and replies with a silly smile, "...You see...I meditate frequently. Can you guess why?" Erin nods her head in negative which causes him to speak again, "We dragons are the legendary creatures throughout the history of civilization. We're God's vessel and considered to be equal to the angels. That's why we lived very long lives and saw humans and other living beings changing through the time. At the time, I envied them for having such a life full of surprises when mine was like stuck in a sand clock. When dragons feel lost, they lose their stability and go into chaos. The Yellow dr

"Hell, even the Black Mountain tribe believes that we also descend from dragons." “There was one similar account of the yeouiju. It is a folktale I heard during my training. It is a Chinese story that originated here in the other side.” Ryosuke said. Cai Kang isn’t aware of all the stories in the original world but they have similar myths and stories. “The Boy that became a Dragon.” Cai Kang realized. “I know that story. No need to tell me.” He immediately understood the story. It is about a boy who swallowed a yeouiju which he’d accidentally found and became a dragon as a result.

I dress as properly as possible. Clyde disclosed that he knew Zenith was trying to manipulate him and he was just trying to act the way she wanted and wanted to see what she would do. “Dragons are not so weak, especially a blue Basilisk,” he had said proudly. I could feel it through our newly formed bond and it both overwhelmed and relieved me. I was not sure what to expect since I have heard stories of mates like Vampire and Werewolf, A seer and a werewolf but never a bond with a dragon, well not until I heard about Lativia. However, I think it is not very different from these bonds.