Trevor Tomlinson

Relics of Avandorn

There weren’t always dragons in the valley. As a boy, Soren remembered walking these paths countless times. Lush green grass beneath his feet, golden sunlight peeking through the trees below a crystal blue sky, and fresh air in his lungs. Now, the ash on the ground was up to his ankles. The blackened dead trees reached upward like emaciated fingers toward a sickly yellow, cloud covered sky. And the air was heavy with smoke and fog that made every breath a struggle to not cough and retch.