Wolfgang Novogratz Nightwing Novels & Stories

I grabbed the other one by the neck and pinned him down onto the floor, but he pushed the air and yelled, "Muro paxillus!" Suddenly, I flew to the wall and was pinned against it, unable to move. Clearly, he was one of Balista's followers, a wizard. "Why are you doing this?" I screamed. "Balista's dead along with Nightshade!" "Oh, Nightshade is still alive and well," he said, walking toward me. Chris and Jagger jumped toward him, but he held up his other hand and yelled, "Duratus!" They froze in mid-step, unable to move. He turned his attention back to me. "Balista was the head, but other hunters are willing to take over where he left off."

This absence of allegiance seemed appropriate for a space intended to transcend the divisions that had brought them to this precipice. The Shadow Knight arrived first, his transformed essence maintaining controlled manifestation despite the temptation toward intimidating display. Midnight armour flowed around bone framework with deliberate restraint as constellation patterns shifted within his form. The forgotten souls integrated within his transformed substance remained vigilant but composed, their collective determination tempered by cosmic awareness regarding the significance of this unexpected parley.

As he was in the doorway with the knob in his hand, he turned his head. “I'll just say this once, Saga. Don't you dare help those two families any deeper. The girl you're looking for is Hugo Supernova's prey. She is a holy blooded wolvire.” Saga gasped, his eyes staring at his father without blinking. Mrs. Adrian stood up and said, “You don't need to worry anymore because INDICENT must have helped them. Just shut up and don't get into trouble. We don't want anything to happen to you, all right?”

Hunted and killed by those who fear us. Catori skipped a few more pages until she came across a page mentioning the name ‘Nightwing.’ The image it showed was of a golden dragon, surrounded by olive trees. (The oldest and most cherished son of Apepi, Nightwing, ruled the kingdom of Britannica for many centuries, before the son Roma challenged him. Simply because he didn't like his soft nature, there was no battle as expected, because Nightwing willingly gave up the throne. Later, it was made known that he had found his mate among the humans, which is taboo amongst his people.)

“Nah, man, I’m Night Wing. I guess that makes you Aquaman.” Micah shrugs, “Wait then, who is Priest?” I give them all a straight face. “I don’t know. How about The Flash?” Connor shakes his head. “Nah, he’s too broody, so he would be, The Green Arrow, and Corbin is the Flash.” Micah snickers. “So that’s settled, Gideon is Cyborg, and Dragon can be Hawk Man. But then again, maybe we’re more like Marvel characters since there are more of us.” He raises his hand playfully. “I vote to be Captain America.”

I reached the dark drawing of my great-grandfather handing it over to her. She quickly wiped her hands taking the book with both hands, eyes slightly wide at the gesture as she cradled it with utmost care. It was an old book after all. One I had not opened in over eight years. "Was the 7th Night Wolf after Alexander the Prime," I explained, as her large gaze darted across the image. Criston was drawn in shades of black and white, shadows dancing around him, his eyes two embers to which her fingers shakily trailed.

Few minutes later he returned with a taut expression. “What’s wrong?” Matthias was first to notice Night Wing as he entered the room. Night Wing pursed his lips as he looked towards Chris. Chris nodded, gesturing him to speak. “Lenin Walter” Night Wing looked at Chris with a complicated expression. “Who?” Mark turned around with knitted brows as he looked at Night Wing in confusion; they had never heard of a Walter with this name. “Him again?” Neil spoke at the same time as Mark as he slammed the wall next to him.