Fantasy
Fire Becomes Her
There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. There had once been a time when there was nothing but life in that glen. A brook babbled across the land while sprites flitted from stone to stone. Gnomes were always very busy doing Merlin-knows-what in the tall grass. Yet despite always being busy, nothing was ever done by day’s end. Wildlife roamed without fear under the lush canopy of trees. I had lived happily in that valley for a hundred years until the dragons came…
By Elizabeth Rigolo Wilson4 years ago in Fiction
Heart of The Carpathian Mountains...
There weren’t always dragons in the valley. Nor had there been high in the Black Hills of the Carpathian Mountains for nearly thousands of years now, but the old folk tales were about to be made real. Nestled deep in the Carpathian Mountains, the castle walls rose high into the night sky, as the thunderous voice of the storm roared out before the claps of lightning streaked across the sky with a madding cry. The winds whipped the windows panes as the rain pelted the face of them like hard tiny pebbles being thrown across the stained glass. The fire roared within the chambers of the highest tower of the castle. A golden blue rim chalice set upon the table was filled with the finest aged wine. Incense and three candles in a circle slowly burned. A fine smoke began rising into the air creating the shape of the golden dragon of old Draco now flickered and sparked from the candlelight. The Queen’s handmaidens hurried to help the royal birthing mother at the queen's side. The Queen was in great distress as the birth of her first child was fast approaching with all the pain a mother could bare.
By Christine St.Croix4 years ago in Fiction
The Marked King
There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. At least, that is what grandfather had told me. He was ancient as hell. He fancied sitting at his small round table, facing toward the window, as he told us stories. Which the family found a bit odd, as he wore a cloth that covered his eyes. We all wondered when he was finally going to keel over at that table of his, pipe still lit and stuck between his chapped lips.
By Upliftcash4 years ago in Fiction
The Anguish of Being Human
There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. Well, except for Jekaar, of course, but most days he didn’t feel the part. Jekaar casually strolled down the sidewalk with the city burning around him, hands tucked deep inside the pockets of his trousers. The screams of the dying humans crying out in the mountainside city around him would have normally rallied excitement within him, but the thrill of the hunt wasn’t his to claim. Not even the dwarf attempting to put out the fire in his beard with ale could draw out a chuckle. This curse, barring him from pillaging alongside his brothers and sisters in the skies, was near torturous for him. As it turned out, there was a fate worse than death...being stuck in the form of a human.
By Aaron James4 years ago in Fiction
There Weren't Always Dragons
I. There weren’t always dragons in the Valley, but nothing was ever the same once there were. Hthrgar was a peaceful place once, free from war and horror. I can barely remember those days now. But what shards of memory I do have about the green fields that once we’re on the springtime smells of wildflowers daring the wind for a sway, I hold onto them fiercely.
By Gregory D. Welch4 years ago in Fiction
The Valley of Mourn
There weren’t always Dragons in the Valley. The Valley was a desolate place, with no good soil to grow food and too warm for anyone to stay longer than it took to pass through on their way to the capitals on either side. It was a dangerous path to take as there was no water and it was only used as a last resort for trade caravans or travelers. It was the meeting place of the two great mountain ranges from the north and south, the Reaching Highland and the Mourning Peaks. These ranges divided the continent for the most part. Many people did not dare cross the Mourning Peaks because of their dangerous sheer cliff faces and jagged spikes that made it impossible to pass for even the most daring adventurers that wished to test their mettle. The Reaching Highland was impassable because of its sharp rise that none could climb. The only way around these ranges was far to the north, south, or through the Valley.
By William Bradley4 years ago in Fiction
Chapter 1
There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. They had only made it their home when the toxins in the air became deadly, driving any surviving humans into the Three Cities. Standing at the top of the Valley, I can only hope that my father helped me make the right choice. Otherwise, this mask, these goggles, this sword, and the fate of humanity had been placed in the wrong hands. Please let this work, I think to myself as I turn the knob on my goggles to the setting that allows me to see the toxins swirling around. As I look at where I’m standing, I see the usual green strands that writhe through the air, marking the poison, yet as I look into the Valley, they seem to dissipate, as though the air down there is clean, which I was not anticipating.
By Sara Splendore 4 years ago in Fiction
