Water Dragon Names Novels & Stories

It rose on its hind legs once more. Early bestiaries had associated the Kuma-wani dragon with creatures of the same habitat: the Yumi Sakana (archerfish), which could eject a stream of water to the surface in order to shoot down prey, and the northern Fulmar bird, which nested on rocky clifftop ledges and whose name translated to “foul mew” in the old northern tongue because of its nasty habit of spitting an unpleasant-smelling oil at its enemies. But because these creatures could only ever deploy their mode of defense in a straight line, the water dragon had also been compared with the silkworm, the swiftlet, the Yukata Yamashirogumo (spitting spider) and the very exotic Kindutran velvet wo

Sighing, Sophia hooked her knotting hair behind her ear and asked, "Well, what's your name?" The dragon raised his head and said, "For now, you can call me Eli.”

I froze from where I was standing as I slowly saw the features of the creature. The creature has the face of a Komodo, except it has spiked horns, its smooth scales are glowing icy, while its nostrils blow a sapphire mist. Its massive clawed forelegs rumbled the ground along with its gigantic spicated wings—helping it move forward. While its colossal tail with cannonball ends swaying ruthlessly. It was an Australian Glazehorn dragon. These creatures originally live on the mountain ranges of the north wing; same with Bakunawas, they visit the upside base for nesting—except the latter are friendly.

She felt a strange ripple go through her at hearing the Dragon's name. It sounded like something from a movie about romans or greeks...similar to Hercules, and she wondered if it had some special meaning. She noticed that he dipped his head down low so he wasn't looking down at her so intimidating and came in closer, looking up at her instead.

I pointed out, still confused. “I’m getting old here—just start already!” she said, clearly amused. I was slowly catching on. “Oh. Well—hi, everyone! These duckies—oh—sorry, I mean swans—their names are…” I hesitated, glancing at Walda. “Walda, what are their names again?” “Rosalind and Edmund,” she said matter-of-factly. “That sounds about right! Yep, Rosalind and Edmund! And, uh… this dog—this horse-dog—is… uh…” I trailed off, feeling completely lost.

he asks me. “Too far for me to narrow it down,” I say sadly. “But it’s in this direction?” he asks. “Yes,” I say. “Let’s land. We can tell the others, and they can try and track him from the ground.” “Who are they?” I ask, turning my head to look. “The green one is Avani, the earth dragon. I recognize him.” “Yes. and you've met the others. Tana is the fire dragon with her mate, Kaylani is the water dragon, and Zephyr is the air dragon. She is Iniko’s mother.”

I asked, feeling sorry for the young man or boy who’d been forced to do such terrible things. “I went to a fire mage, actually,” he said. “He bound my dragon.” Kieran gestured to the red tattoo peeking up over his shoulder. “He bound my dragon here, like this.” “That’s your dragon?!” I gasped. “All chained up?” “Yes,” he confirmed. “Do you mind if I ask you about… him?” I asked, nodding to the tattoo. “What’s his name?” “His name is Naeghiros,” he said, and then his voice dropped to a whisper. “Naeghiros is the name of the first and last dragon, the dragon charged with setting our world on fire.”

- The man replied. - Elena. - Demetria mumbled again. - Sorry, what was that? - Cassius looked at her questioningly. - My dragon's name is Elena. - The girl replied louder. - Oh, I am sorry. I should have asked before. - Her uncle apologized. - What is your dragon name then? - Alexander, but he likes to be called Alex. - Cassius replied with a giggle. Demetria found it strange to speak softly about a beast like a dragon.

Maybell Smith Mythicals- A rare bloodline that people inherit from God, Dalion, that he personally blessed with the ancient dragon spirit. It is given to those who have been close enough to touch the white veil. Although this information is well known, mythicals are still a mystery to the rest of civilization, if encountered, don’t stare into its gaze.

The ground beneath me shakes violently, forcing me to bend my knees to stay upright, but the crowd above ripples with excitement and applause, loving every second of it. I’ve never seen a beast like this. It’s… beautiful. Long and lean, it shines in the faint moonlight–washed in dry, cracked silver-blue scales. Wings expand along its back–like a bat, but pearlescent, a kaleidoscope of blues, greens, and silvers. Like water. A water dragon. A water dragon bound by iron chains and forced to live within the dirt lined hellscape of the arena.