Zero Dragons Novels & Stories

She had watched as they set everything ablaze, their massive wings fanning the flames as they burned the brightness and vibrancy of existence into nothingness. Now, a black splotch of scorched acreage, lying dead. Yet, something about them had her intrigued. She had to admit, she was impressed given their size, how they moved with such grace and elegance, as if they were the true rulers of life and death. How they stayed at just the right height as they maneuvered through the sky, swooping in and out as if they were playing a child’s game of chase with smoke and fire. She watched as intelligence swam behind the eyes of the dragon that had found her, yet never gave her away.

“All the mortals in the dormitory are currently in a deep slumber.” “It’s that green dragon,” Seb whispered to Dorin. “That’s a wind dragon, it has the ability to put others to sleep...” he pointed at a huge blue dragon “See that one? That is an ice dragon... And that one,” this time he pointed at another dragon, a gigantic red one with golden scales on its chest, much like Johan’s Dragon. It had sharp golden horns framing the top half of its head like a crown, and 3 pairs of piercing red eyes. “That is an adult Czar dragon.” “They have come to welcome the new hatchling,” Lady Lucille said beside them. “It’s been so long since a new Czar dragon was born into this world...” she looked at Seb

Kylie couldn’t believe what she was hearing. After all, Delores was speaking of dragons, beings that were so powerful that their mere presence in her world was enough to tip the scales of war. A dragon was not something that could be easily ignored, and she doubted that the entire world of Beastmen put together could even put up a fight when faced with a dragon. Besides, one of the greatest Beastmen clans had a dragon as their descendants; yet Delores was referring to them like she did insects.

Even if her father hadn’t told her the truth of the history of the Dragon Moon festival, these people seemed to know and were eager to see Beelzanborg fall and the dragons restored to power. Before her, a mass of dragons came into view, many of them with human warriors on their backs, using bows and arrows to hit their targets as the fire from the dragons lit Beelzanborg troops and weapons on fire. The dragons swooped low to hit their targets and then flew around in a circle to come back in for another go. On the ground and even atop the castle there were hand-to-hand battles going on. Nya tried to find Slate but didn’t see him from this distance. As they closed in, she did spot Gavin, atop

I want to run, but I’m too afraid. “I assure you, Tru. I am not doing this in gest. I don’t know why humans forgot about the night’s children and us. I’m going to find the answers, but I need someone to help me.” The fight is over in minutes. Bodies litter the ground. Some burnt from fire and others torn apart by teeth and talons. Six dragons lay on the ground. It’s clear they didn’t make it. I watch as a red dragon makes its way to the fallen ones. It lets out a roar, and the other dragons follow. Some lift the deceased dragons, while some begin to gather wood, and the others start burning what’s left on the field.

It was the place where she felt she belonged, now and forever. "You know, in old times, and I mean old times like before my parents… Middle Ages, and even before that, there was a handful of cases when dragons were mated to other species. Plus, there is something about pure dragon couples that makes them infertile for the better part of the century. That's partly the reason why there's so little of us in the world. And most of the living dragons are now very old. Some of them never had kids…

"But I'm going to find out. And until I do, you belong to me." Saoirse’s hands curled into fists in the horse’s mane. She would play his game. She would be his mute, stupid servant. She was the Last Dragon. He was the Viper. And he had just invited his own destruction into his home.

Verath caught her before she hit the ground. The earth split open. A gigantic chasm appeared in the center of the clearing. Darkness poured from it. Not shadow. Not smoke. Darkness itself. Ancient. Cold. Alive. The dragons backed away. Thousands of dragons. Retreating. A sound emerged from the chasm. Breathing. Something was breathing. Slow. Heavy. As though awakening from an impossibly long sleep. The darkness shifted. Then two eyes opened. They were enormous. Larger than castles.

And then it came, tearing the fragile silence apart. A roar—no, the roar—exploded across Qombinia, rolling over the city like thunder born inside a mountain. It hurled birds from the palace roofs and froze hearts mid-beat. People who had never seen a dragon dropped to their knees instinctively; those who had knew the sound could only belong to one being in the realm. King Drakonios. Omni Draco. Last of the Eternal Brood.