Ally Cameron

The Age of Alrynn

There weren’t always dragons in the valley. There weren’t always great chunks ripped out of the cliffs. The river didn’t always bend wildly into vast bathing pools in improbable gorges, and the pebbles weren’t always worn smooth. There weren’t always broken tips on the pines that thickly blanketed the slopes. The wind wasn’t always accompanied by shrill shrieks and deep grunts from cavernous chests of immense airborne beasts. The high plains on the surrounding mountain tops didn’t always wear bare patches where tongues of fire had scorched with such intensity that the earth itself lay barren.