Night Anarkian Bloodlust: A Fictional Narrative

1743 Words7 Pages
On the Island of Warfront, a tiny and terrified draconoid, who looked no older than eight years of age, was being dragged by her bound wrists behind a tall, dark skinned man who went by the name of Krogan. The small dragon was wearing a light black tunic and baggy black pants, hardly covering her old scars, burns and ripped ears. Her wild black hair, large green eyes, and the fact that she doesn’t even reach up to the man’s waist would’ve been found adorable by Krogan, if he hadn’t known who this dragon was. This small draconoid was known as Nightstar “Night” Anarkian Bloodlust, Heir to the Draconic Throne and Warchief of the League of the Ashen Flame.

“Stop lagging behind! You’re wasting my time!” snapped Krogan, instantly Night released
…show more content…
Accordingly, upon their entrance, when Viggo and Johann sighted the tiny dragonkin who looked suspiciously like a tiny version of the warchief of a certain enemy faction, they immediately gave all of their attention to Krogan and Night. Viggo momentarily wondered if this was a sibling of Nightstar Bloodlust, he knew she had a twin clutchmate, but he was dead, so who was this? “Who is this?” Johann demanded, his voice made Night cower back, however since Krogan’s hand was continuing to hold her still, her ability to move back was limited.

“This, is Nightstar Bloodlust,” Krogan said simply. Eyeing him in disbelief, “How could this child, possibly be the Night Fury? Krogan have you lost your mind?” interjected Viggo. The dragon-hunter chief was willing to admit that this child looked like her, and yes, Night was a small draconoid, but she was no whelpling, she stood muscular, proud and tall. This trembling and fearful runt couldn’t be her, but she was a striking clone of the Ashen warchief, just far
…show more content…
“Because I said so. Also, be careful with her, she’s slippery, regardless of age,” Johann said with clear uninterest, “Now get out, and take the child with you.” Quickly shooting a dirty look at the other two men, Viggo dragged his new charge out of the tent. He clearly didn't care how endearing she was, or how cute it was that she was only the height of his waist, did he even notice the bruises left on her by Krogan? The trek to Viggo’s personal tent had no delays, even when Night needed to slow down, or how much pain she was in, Viggo never stopped
Open Document