Wings Of Fire Dragon Maker Novels & Stories

The scale of him forced the eye to adjust, to recalibrate what counted as a threat, what counted as a weapon. His wings unfurled behind him. Not in a single, theatrical sweep, but in a measured expansion that claimed the space as its own, the membranes stretching outward in layered arcs, catching the rising heat and bending it to his will. The edges burned in deep, smouldering crimson, not bright but dense, like coals banked beneath ancient ash, pulsing in time with the fire beneath his skin. Drifting ash caught along their span, then burned away in curling wisps, leaving no mark. These were not the wings of any bird. They were banners torn from an infernal altar and set ablaze. That fire wa

He is the vice president of the Black group. "The final presentation is on my laptop. Get my laptop ready," Kael instructed his assistant, Lena Steward. She is in her early twenties. She is a low-level dragon with limited powers. Dragons are three types: black, orange, and green. Alpha Dragons are black, while mid- to average-level Dragons are orange. Dragons without a beast are green. They have heightened senses, but cannot shift. "Yes, boss," Lena replied. She pulled his laptop from the laptop bag while she entered the private elevator with Kael and Michael. The moment she removed the laptop, water started dripping down from the laptop.

Sylara stood calmly in the center of the glass lake, disappointed. “So close,” she said. “But you’ll never reach it.” --- Then the final guardian rose. A dragon of flame and crystal, bound to the Vein itself, climbed from beneath the lake. Its body shimmered like broken mirrors and lava, wings stretching across the sky, eyes like forges. Aria stared in awe. “The first Flameborn.” Lena whispered, “It’s not alive. It’s memory… made flesh.” The dragon roared—and time fractured again, freezing clouds mid-sky and trees in half-motion.

'' "Ok, but that still doesn't answer the type of dragon we are. Do you breathe fire? Or maybe you can control water.'' There was a laughing sound. ''You will find out when we bond, but just know that we are a force to be reckoned with.'' ''I wish you could explain more to me.'' ''Like what?'' ''Our parents.'' ''Nightwing was and still is the greatest dragon there is. There is yet to be any dragon to defeat him. Many have tried but failed. He is a cunning one, with his abilities to breathe fire, disappear in dark shadows, read minds and tell the future.'' Catori gasped, knowing that she had at least one of those abilities.

The anticipation was palpable, and the prospect of our long-awaited meeting was just within reach. A few weeks ago, I began to feel the awakening of my powers. As the flames blazed to life, I couldn’t help but marvel at their captivating hue—a luminous shade of blue that danced in the air. At that moment, my dragon, Makhlai—though she insists on being called Katie—spoke to me with a fiery sass that only she could muster. I cherish her spirited personality and feel incredibly fortunate to have her beside me.

I have to be able to fight through burns and broken bones to claim my dragon. At first my warriors didn’t like the idea of truly putting me in danger, but we’ve worked up to it over the years. Now, I can handle three of them at once, all sending fire at me from different directions. By elvish law, a potential rider can only use their element and ‘tools’ created with natural products. Over time, I’ve created multiple versions of a rope. The first versions burned away quickly. I’ve had to become more creative with the earthen products that I’ve used to create my rope. I now feel that I have something that will not only stand up to some of Kenna’s fire, but isn’t completely made of stone or roc

When he wanted to, he could look like a purely murderous creature. His dragon was equally as impressive. He was still small, considering he was only seventeen, but he was a deep ruby red dragon. Garren confirmed that he was a fire dragon, and with time he would be able to emit enough heat to melt gold with just a touch of his fingers. He could already make small flames form in his palms.

Drake and the warriors turned in that direction and they know at least a couple of would die falling under that wall of fire today. And their efforts to save the lives from that fire would become wasted. So Drake did the only thing he did before the wall could crush the people. He unfolded his wings and held the entire length of the wall and balanced it with the help of his wings and his back. When the people saw that the wall is no longer falling, they stopped running and turned to see what stopped it. When they saw Drake with his Dragon wings holding that wall of fire, they all gasped with surprise. Even warriors now confirmed that their king is indeed a dragon.

"Surrender now, and this doesn’t have to get ugly." The dragon was furious. "We'll see about that," He snarled. He lunged forward, his claws raking the earth as he fought against the magical net. The magicians began chanting in unison, their spells weaving together into chains of golden light that wrapped around his wings and legs. Drake roared, flames erupting from his mouth and scorching the air. "You think your little tricks will stop me?!" he bellowed, straining against the bindings. "I am a fire incarnate! You don’t stand a chance!"

I stand rooted to the spot, a silent witness to the unfolding spectacle, my heart pounding in my chest. As I watch in awe, Thrystan conjures his own flames, crafting them into a sinuous ribbon of fire reminiscent of a dragon's coil. With practiced precision, he sends the fiery tendril hurtling towards the assailants, ensnaring them in its fiery embrace. The flames do not scorch their flesh, but bind them in place, rendering them powerless and petrified. In that moment, it becomes clear – Thrystan is not merely a Scorcher; he possesses the legendary Dragonfire within him.