The Name Of The Wind By Patrick Rothfuss Novels & Stories

The windblown trees and the handkerchief tied around Altair's neck also fluttered. Many old books make Altair confused about where to start. Altair picked up some by climbing the stairs of the library of books such as the history of the Rhodes empire, the power of Mana as well as the origin of Mana and others. The sunlight that penetrates into the room through one of the broken glass ornaments forms the same pattern in the bathroom. About 4-5 books are already in his hands. Altair hopes one of the books here can help him get out of the novel.

He asked, still confused at her words. "The coronation of the Chosen One. I have heard the Phoenix has woken up from her hibernation by reincarnating again. But i have not still found her. She is the only one that could lead to the real King, Our Ice King" "I know a lot about the myth but i do not know what will happen after he is found" "He would bring to life the seven kingdoms, ranging from the land of Summer to the land of ice. Everything will be quite normal like it supposed to be"

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So if the wind brings his name again—if he returns, taller, angrier, wiser—I’ll open the door. And I’ll speak it aloud. The name no one else knows. The name I once whispered into the quietest part of the world. The name that still burns like a promise in my chest. Because names are not curses. They are beginnings. And I think… his is only just beginning.

Chapter One: The Last Dragon (Drake’s POV) For centuries, they have hunted my kind. Once, dragons ruled the skies, our shadows stretching across kingdoms, our roars shaking the earth. But humans feared what they could not control. One by one, my kin fell—slaughtered by cowards who called themselves heroes. They carved our bones into weapons, melted our scales into armor, and told stories of their victories. Now, I am the last. Drake—the final dragon of this world. And they want to get rid of me too.

The wind was fierce and unyielding, but they pressed on, knowing the importance of their mission. Standing on the edge of the cliff, Luna raised her arms, calling out to the spirits of the wind. She felt the air swirl around her, lifting her hair and filling her lungs with its invigorating presence. With a chant, she captured a portion of the wind's essence in a crystal vial, which glowed with a vibrant green light. --- The final element, fire, awaited them in the heart of a dormant volcano. This was the most dangerous part of their quest, but they faced it with unwavering courage.

The man was packed with muscles in the right places. The Alpha though stood still with my hand locked in his as he watched me in silence. He didn’t even show any reaction that I was his mate. Hell, his eyes only flashed for a second, to show his wolf’s presence before it was gone. Clearing my throat softly, I took every emotion out of my voice before I spoke; "My name is K.D Chaos... but you only call me Chaos." I said coldly before pulling my hand out of the Alpha's hand and moving on to shake his beta's hand who continued to watch me closely.

Come," he said. My eyes immediately catch Merko's. I even pointed myself. He nodded. Slowly, I paced and stopped at the three step stairway. Was it designed for giants? One stair could atleast equal to three regular footsteps. I frowned but continued walking till I was standing infront of the elder. He smiled. The heck? How can the teeth be still complete? "Spirits of the wind, come nigh, fill my hand and show thy mind." It was as if he was verbalizing a puzzle. I almost said something but the wind blew and the next thing that happened, made my eyes ogle. It didn't left the elder's hand, which were now junctioned together, with the palms facing me. Brown dust swirled swiftly coming from ever

Giselle looked at the man not knowing why she was here. Uzair raised his hand and a book appeared. He opened it and started ready loudly. "F i r s t... l i f e. H e a l e r... n i g h t... j a s m i n e ... a n d... d i e d... i n... t h e... h a n d s... o f... w o l f... s p i r i t. S e c o n d... l i f e.

No such thing could live that long. He bent into the gust of the unforgiving wind and nudged on, one step at a time, containers and pouches flapping his shoulders, wishing himself the solace of his warm workplace. Rather in the company of some crazy storm. The winter light was a luminous gray band across the sky's last quarter by the moment he entered at the tremendous door of the castle; the structure giving rise to a profound shudder than the howling gale. The enormous stone castle was more mausoleum than residing territory.