Undead Dragonborn Novels & Stories

If it thought it was me then. "Who am I and what am I?" I asked. " Danae Ravdylon. Bearer of the Ice Dragon." It managed to sound dry even with its kind of voice. I folded my arms and nodded. "So, you're an ice dragon and I carry you. Fair enough." It flapped its wings again. "I am 'THE' Ice Dragon. The only one. The bearers may expire but I live forever. Only I. For another to be born, I have to expire."

There are three undead standings based on their strength from Zombie, Skeleton and Lich. This superior has a body with a lifespan of hundreds of years or even an immortal. The highest evolutions of Spirits, exclusive to the black and white elements are called Demons and Angels. For the Dragons themselves, they have combined elements of basic magic such as Ice, Magma/lava, Thunder (Thunderstorm), Scorch (Scorch), Shadow, and Light. Dragons have physical bodies, but Wyverns are also created which can be said to be bloodlines but not children born from them.

"Did you say there's a dragon beneath the cave? I thought all the dragons died out thousands of years ago?" "You also thought that unicorns and werewolves were legends until a year ago. Here we are living among you now, so who's to say that dragons aren't real and walking this earth as well. There is a great dragon beneath the cave and his name is Draco. Draco is a great green dragon with hot fire and tough scales. His eyes are yellow and his tongue is red and he wants all the world of men to be dead. The last time he saw a human he burned them alive. I think you should tell him that you are a witch. That should save your life."

TYSON After my body was able to metabolize all the wolfsbane and finally heal properly, my brother and I started planning the memorial service we'd have to hold later that week. The final count for our pack was ten dead, which was a very good number considering, especially since we had never trained for battle with wolfsbane. The experience still traumatized me, and I was determined to follow through on my dedication to becoming tolerant. No more fucking around. Practically dying out on that battlefield was a huge wake-up call.

"I'm back." I look up to see West approaching my desk. He's an impure like me. People like us are regarded as the abominations of the society. He's a mage who has the blood of an undead flowing in his veins. On the other hand, I'm a dragon shifter with demon blood running through my veins. "She's safe and sound, Dash. Now, tell me what that was about." "Fine." .... "I can't believe we're doing this" I mutter. West chuckles and nudges me.

Which is kind of weird? "Too hasty Aurken, I just gave you an overview for you to understand, the third type I mentioned, which is being reborn with half of one's original age consume, can also drain one's necro if the necro of a reborn is not enough. So talented reborn of this class is because being able to provide the necessary amount of necro in their reborn state, means they have massive amounts of necro." A voice from a seemingly old man. "So basically, what you're trying to say doc is-"

“It is a country with hot climate, and it is where most dragons have lived. The people of Drava worship Phlareus; the Sun God, the immortal phoenix.” “The second country was Stormir, in the southern region,” Jade pointed at the south of Galadhor, “The dwarves that dominated the region have produced the best quality of swords and weapons to help the humans fight the Legion. They have this unique mineral called Thunderite which they use in blacksmith.”

Vis explained and leaned back. "We had no name for it, but the explanation is consistent with what we know. Bahadir sealed Rafabik into his own body. He was the container that held the huge dragon. We assumed that after the death, the dragon died with the vessel. We were wrong. A generation later, a young woman showed up out of nowhere. An Auon with the ability to produce white flames. After she died, another came and then another one. We have not been able to determine how the next vessel is selected, but each person has been an Auon, and they are drawn to the Dragonstone in Haara," said Saefir. "Dragonstone? You have a Dragonstone," Sidastir exclaimed in surprise.

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

Tragically. Centuries of low birth rates had pushed them into desperation. Infertility plagued their kind, and so they’d begun to mix—first cautiously, then openly—with humans. It was survival, not surrender. But the price was steep. Few true-blooded dragons remained. Those who came from mixed lines were weaker. Some could barely shift. Some never shifted at all. Many bore golden eyes but lacked wings or flame. Some had fire resistance, strength, or speed—but not all three. Others could conjure fire from their hands but couldn’t defend themselves in a real battle. Then there were the dormant ones—no glow, no flame, no speed. Just a touch of resistance to heat. Human in every other way.