Book Two of the Werepire Trilogy.
The big question for this book is... will the author ever bother to upload new chapters on a regular-ish basis?
Also, finally got some temporary covers in, which will probably move to the first chapter to be random...
Then there was some screaming, a few high fives, and a quick bit of glass cleaning. The science teacher didn't see. They were busy setting up the most impressive Bunsen burner bonfire yet, and most of the school was going to go over and roast sausages on it after school.
This, of course, was strictly against the school rules.
That's why Mrs. Daniels was the only person who didn't receive an invitation, as she probably would've ratted to the school board.
Then again, most of the school board was invited too.
Poor Mrs. Daniels.
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Laila floofed through the forest, happy with a good days work of blowing pancakes onto ceilings and (accidentally, but still quite impressively) through windows. She and John even ran an undercover mission to get one on the ceiling of an unattended maths classroom, leaving the teacher (who returned barely five minutes later) very confused.
She floofed into human form, retaining her bat fangs to look more vampire-y as she approached the stronghold. It loomed over the trees, a shadowy black against the western mountain range. A wooden stage, cordoned off like an arena, lay gathering dust, foundations cracked and leaning awkwardly.
Beyond it was a congregation of vampires (all quite stereotypical), murmuring nervously amongst themselves. The new leader, a tall black haired man with a tie, tried to keep everyone in order as over the tree line a massive figure raised up, mist emanating off it.
In the crowd, glowing torches were raised, casting eerie shadows over the lot, teenagers pushed to the front of the group silently. Laila ducked behind the stage, peering around at the forthcoming figure. The flickering flames of the torches glowed over shimmering golden scales, and the dragon reared up, sending a column of flame into the night.
The embers fell around him, showing the golden hues, tinged with black spikes curling up his legs and neck, eyes a harsh purple. A swift blade arched off his tail, accented with the same purple.
As Laila watched on in uneasy trepidation, he made an announcement that sounded like it had been presented a thousand times; he, Ieiunium, Lord of the Manjirippun Landmass, was here to claim a wary challenger to race himself along the Northern Mountain range.
Should the vampire defeat him, he would step down from position as Dragon Lord, and for the first five years of the next Lord's reign, no challengers would be chosen. Should the vampire lose, they would be killed, and a new challenger selected the following year.
From the looks on the crowd's faces, it had been a long time since a Dragon Lord had been defeated.
"Who is your choice, mighty one?" the vampire's leader said, eyes dark.
"Illequicelat," the dragon lord growled, translating quickly, "The one who hides."
With a roar, he swept the olden stage to a side, tearing it from its foundations, revealing a small bouncy protagonist.
In the crowd, Mystic fainted.
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