Excerpt

Stripes and Scales - Chapter I: "The Street and the Pool"
There weren't always dragons in the Valley. Long before she had been old enough to grasp the concept, she had heard the adults speak, in whispers, about the beasts. They whispered, as their parents and their parents before them, had once shouted, because the years had worn them down, left them able to do little more than raise their crops and their children, debate and plan their communities, and always, prepare themselves for war against their enemies, be they human or reptilian. What fabulous enemies they made, these legends of the air and the water and the very bowels of their Kingdom-earth, how magnificent!
By Eric Wolf4 years ago in Fiction
Valley of the Stars
Valley of the Stars by K.W. Peeta There weren't always dragons in the Valley. But there was always this. The thought had carried Traust forward since leaving the castle and embarking on, what could be, the most important quest of his life. Yet his destination lay mere miles from home, well within the Valley’s southern edge. The narrow, dirt path Traust followed was as familiar to him as his own hand, yet he proceeded with care. Dense forest flanked him, the pathway curated by massive, mossy trunks as large around as a man, separated sparsely by thin lines of inky black. The moon was bright, but of little help this night. It was all but a sliver, a harsh yet magnificent crescent holding its own amongst the stars.
By K.J. Wilson4 years ago in Fiction
An Anthem of Wings
There weren't always dragons in the valley. It wasn't their home, but they had been driven from so many places, so many other homes, the valley was all they had left. Dex knew the stories by heart. His Granddad had told them to him since the age he could walk, and when Granddad passed beyond, Granny had told them to him on the nights he was restless and couldn't settle to sleep. He remembered them both telling him the stories as he stood before his Granny's freshly dug grave.
By R.S. Belcher4 years ago in Fiction
In Flames
There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. Mom never let us forget that, that there once was a time without them. Not that she was alive all that long ago, but word travels, not just from location to location, but down the bloodline, too. Wish I’d been here the day those damn Karvens showed up here, she would spit. If only I’d been there. I know how it would have gone if she’d been there --- Mom may be magical, but she isn’t divine. I would always pretend with her, though, that things would have gone differently if she had been alive all those decades ago. I know, I’d say. To think how much better off we’d be today. But in reality I know she would have cowered like the rest of them. The Karvens tend to have that effect.
By R4 years ago in Fiction
On Emerald Scales
There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. In the days before the Breaking, in those times of bliss, the dragons lived peacefully upon their peaks, coming down only to engage in kind diplomacy with the Flightless creatures who made Etenia their home. Even then, it was known that the Valley was forbidden to them. The dragons, in their characteristic wisdom, felt that their presence between the peaks might unnerve the people of the world. They were right.
By Matthew V De Simone4 years ago in Fiction
Esemantha
There weren't always dragons in the Valley. They returned with the snow. Shards of ice swarmed from above, skirting the mountains. The river cutting between them had solidified, forcing the men of the valley to melt snow for drink. The shallow soil that held the blue beets the valley was known for also hardened, and the crops rotted to slush.
By Omer Dagan4 years ago in Fiction
Dragon’s Mark
There weren't always dragons in the Valley. There was a time we’re there were smokeless skies. Everyday faithfully, when the bells at the watch towers surrounding the town rings, I can see them into the distance. They dance effortlessly in the air; making their daily rounds to patrol the area like clock work. Their eyes light up like the golden sun, as their impenetrable skin shimmers and sparkles in the twilight. To watch is breathtaking, but frightening at the same time.
By Tiffany Wiggins4 years ago in Fiction
Red
‘There weren’t always dragons in the valley.’ Red said nothing. The silence sat unsated. Weighed down by the hot noonday air. Restlessly watching the two opposing figures of the horsemen. The stranger was right. It was high summer, and Red could see the last hint of green had long been scorched away in all directions by the tyrannical sun overhead. His horse shuffled at the dirt nervously. So did the horse of the stranger. Dragons didn’t belong in these parts. But the big city keeps getting bigger. Pushing the ranchers out further out into the dust. And the ranchers they push the wildcats, the bears and the – Thwack!
By Andy Mac4 years ago in Fiction
Memory Of The Future // The Mission
The notes rang high in the school auditorium ceiling as Elizabeth’s hand glided gently over the ivory keys. She played softly, a variation on Vivaldi. She let herself feel the music and found herself swaying back and forth on the bench. Before she knew it, she had carried herself away and her young tutor-student was reluctantly tapping on her shoulder. Tre had waited through a whole minute of her demonstrating the piece to him. Elizabeth let up and cleared her throat.
By Eli Chamley4 years ago in Fiction
The Golden Tears of a Goddess
There weren't always dragons in the Valley, nor kelpies in the Wetlands. The Sepp’anøn Forest used to be a tranquil area flowing with fae magic; a place where one would go to ask the questions that needed the answers from within. The villagers would go there to gather herbs, berries or mushrooms, sometimes to pray and leave gifts to the Gods. Faes would travel long distances to spend just a few nights under the foliage of this wooden sanctuary that carried the whispers of the past, present and the future in its winds. Shapeshifters would experience their Rebirth, the first change, in the secluded part of the forest lightened only by the moonglight. It had been a safe haven for every inhabitant of Pandera; place, where not a single drop of innocent blood had been spilled for centuries. Even during the darkest of winter nights, Shadows had not lingered in the Woodland, its ancient powers keeping the most vicious creatures at distance.
By kanioshki4 years ago in Fiction
Angsty Teen Dragon
There weren't always dragons in the Valley … It isn’t like they never existed. But they lived out of sight, in the shadows, blending in with the likes of mortal sapiens, such as you. You know those shadows. The ones that make you flinch when you’re walking home at night. Once you turn around, ready to whack the intruder with your soft, cushiony purse, you realise it’s just a bush. You find yourself foolish because you were about to go all Hannibal Lecter on a shrub that has greyed from the night, making it seem somehow more vulnerable. In the wind, its leaves rustle a mocking turn of phrase. But I am pleased to tell you that in fact, you are right to wield your wouldn’t-hurt-an-intruder weapon. Okay, fine. A purse would hurt if you slammed it with your full force of adrenaline. Happy? Well, back to me. It’s never a bush that startles you.
By Issie Amelia4 years ago in Fiction
The Dragons of the West
There weren’t always dragons in the valley. Old Bart even claimed to remember when they first appeared, but there were too many in the village who had grown up with Bart’s tales of watching mountains grow from planted pebbles to give the old man’s tales much credence.
By Will Tudge4 years ago in Fiction