Havok Publishing

Tag - dragons

Fantasy Friday featured image (season 2)

Dragon’s Spite

The legends warned never to wound a dragon. Those compelled by foolishness or drink to attack such a beast must slay it or perish, for a wound would invoke The Dragon’s Spite. In all their days, the dragon would never tire of hunting the offender. However, none of the legends spoke to my circumstance.

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Fee-Fi-Fo-Fumble

I stumbled out of the beam of light, doing my best to keep my balance on the icy sidewalk.
The house seemed smaller than I’d been expecting. All the houses were smaller than I’d expected.
“Where am I?” I asked Mission Control.
“Human village.” Cheryl smacked her gum in my earpiece.

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Unexpected Encounters of a Draconic Kind

Basket snug under her arm, Elmira scanned the forest floor. A long, paper-thin material poked out among the nettles—a discarded dragon skin. It was yellow and curled, probably a few days old. Still, she had to be on the right track.
Where are you? She swiped a hand across her brow.

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Never Weak

The blizzard howled around the entrance of the cave, sending flurries of ice and snow washing over the floor. Normally that wouldn’t concern me, but it was summer.
I blinked, looking away from the white swirl and focusing on Ma, who shivered slightly and blew a steady stream of fire into the pit between us and the storm.

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Dragonbreath

Hey, Dragonbreath. Camping this weekend. U in?
A wisp of smoke accompanied my snort as I stuck my phone back in my pocket. Camping. The only social event I’d been invited to in years. Not that I could blame them after my laugh fried Craig’s gaming system at fourteen.

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Flames of Vengeance

Heat tickled in Ivraeldu’s veins. Rage swam in his heart. A passion to set their world aflame.
Cold air brushed his eyes as his wings sailed the wind. A sea of stars twinkled against the infinite night sky. Below, acres of farmland stretched between snow-capped mountains and a glassy river.

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Watch Me Burn

Azar pulled her Harley out of the haze of rush-hour traffic into an unused parking lot and scanned the expanse of asphalt and concrete. Not a blade of grass broke the gray monotony. No flicker of the royal soldiers’ red-edged, black scales.
She parked beside a concrete slope supporting a busier access street,

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Ashes in the Wind

“It looks like Earth.” Captain Kilian maneuvered the pod through the atmosphere, eyes bouncing from the control panel to the green surface of the planet that had yet to be named.
Alice’s stomach churned with a combination of excitement and dread. “Except the forest is glowing.” For a moment, excitement won out,

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Figlio Fortunato

Three of the dragon’s heads lunged, spewing noxious fire. Niccolò bellowed, charged between columns of flame, and drove at the beast with his axe. His blows glanced off the scales, then he staggered against the flags of the old church as four more heads lurched around the corner.
Where was Giovanni?

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The Art of Taming a Dragon

“May I ask a deeply personal question?”
“Again?” I turned to the dwarf, taking care to roll my eyes dramatically enough for him to notice from his position below.
“It’s been five minutes since my last one.”
“Not long enough.”
“Oh.”
He was quiet for a whole sixty seconds while I rigged my net in the trees. Knots: secure. Branches: sturdy. It would work.

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The Stone in the Sword

“This is completely your fault.” Captain Quinn paced up and down the cramped dungeon cell, glowering at his android co-pilot.
INFO’s internal servos whirred as she tilted her head. “I do not see my error. I merely informed the men that the sorceress they worship is most likely not a deity, but—”

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Dragonnapped

I’m cleaning Amethyst’s harness in the tack room when the rogues arrive. I don’t know how many there are—my only warning is the dragons’ shrieking before a horrid stench assails me, sharp pain spikes through my head, and I black out.
When I come to, my hands are tied behind my back.

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