S.E. Vallentine
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Stories (4)
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The Valley of Titans
There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. But after their arrival over two hundred and fifty years ago it seemed that, for now at least, they were here to stay. After The Burning in the year 354 when the great, winged titans of the sky descended upon the Valley, the inhabitants were forced out of their homes, lest they be choked to death by smoke or cooked alive by searing flames.
By S.E. Vallentine4 years ago in Fiction
Honeyed Words
I’m here for you, no matter what. You can lean on me. I love you. I’m not going anywhere. The weight of these phrases comes with a price, and before they escape your lips you must ask yourself if you are really and truly ready to pay it. As human beings we are all guilty of saying things we don’t mean; to be clear, I am not here to condemn you for saying them, as I’m sure that at the moment there is an inkling of truth when they are uttered. We all, naturally, have good intentions. But consider this, maybe there was also a part of you that said it for yourself? Maybe you needed the validation of I’m a good person because I say these things; maybe you assumed that who you spoke to, would never actually take your words to heart.
By S.E. Vallentine5 years ago in Humans
The Water Bearer and The Willow
He carried with him an earthen pitcher, and alone through the wasteland he traveled with only his shadow at his back. His aching and blistered feet somehow continued to carry him despite their exhaustion, and he, the water bearer, could no longer remember a time in which his feet did not hurt. Maybe it was a during a time when his pitcher had been full, when he'd given from it freely? Yes, surely it was then, back before the greed of man drove him into the wasteland. The memory alone caused his brow to crease into a resentful frown and he clutched the pitcher ever tighter, listening to what little water remained sloshing about in the nearly empty vessel.
By S.E. Vallentine5 years ago in Poets
Resilience
Peace stood alone in an endless fog that stretched as far as the eye could see. A once beautiful world now reduced to ruins, marred by Torment. Her bare feet were obscured, but she stood firm and strong, rooted in place, for the dewy moss and grass beneath her kept her centered.
By S.E. Vallentine5 years ago in Poets
