Natalie Vance

Ember and Ash

There weren't always dragons in the Valley. The earth did not always tremble and quake from the force of their every weighted footfall; the air did not always smell of sulfur and rot. Blades of emerald green grass grew here like butter-soft moss. Dappled sunlight pressed afternoon kisses to the tops of ancient white oaks. Faefelle's Aditus Valley was once a place for budding romances atop fragrant beds of silver moonflower. Children laughed and cheered as they played pretend, their mothers confident in their safe return once dusk arrived.