Fantasy
Limitless
“There weren’t always dragons in the valley. The stories of ancient pasts, illustrate how these draconic creatures used to descend from the heavens and gift our realm with shards of magic for hope and prosperity. This magic was always so rare, those who had been imbued with this light were seen as Prophets, they were hailed to the highest power of humanity. As their power grew, so did the civilizations they governed, which eventually turned into Kingdoms. We are now known as the Grand Magi Eledi, and we rule as a “Counsel of Elders”, so to say.
By Calyshia Howes4 years ago in Fiction
Meavan
There weren’t always dragons in the valley. There weren't always witches acting as healers, or city workers making money by burning the dead. There weren’t always demons running our world, but for the last ten years this had been our lives. Ten years ago the demon kings of Erebus rose to take control of Erabores and make it the fifth circle of hell. They brought legions upon legions of demonic beasts bread for war. Our own soldiers, though we were severely outnumbered, rode out to meet them. A fifth of what was sent out returned defeated. So came the crowning of the fifth demonic king, Apollyon.
By C.N. McDonald4 years ago in Fiction
The Demon's Nightmares
Prologue “There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. They were heart stones forged in the fires of Mt. Voldehr. Their scales from the iron smithed by the dwarves. Their teeth and claws with steel sharpened to fines point, deadlier than the blades of our Huntsman. Through the jealousy of his brother and greed for the thrown, a young Prince summoned an enchantress, and a spell was created, giving life to creatures filled with blood lust. Fighting between brothers, a King loved by many, a wise and caring soul with a powerful influence amongst his people. And a Prince bitter and hated with powerful war tactics and brawns of a bear with a craving for blood and violence. Within the year, war waged out amongst the kingdom. Factions formed to defend themselves, and clans went into hiding for fear the dragons would destroy pieces of ancient magic and documents during their rampage.
By Miki Barker4 years ago in Fiction
Ember Rising
There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. Before Nox came, the valley was quiet. Too quiet. My skin crawled, itching to let the other half of me go free. I knew I would be exiled if I did, but Nox changed everything. I’m one of the few people that were blessed by the Ancient Dragons. Nox isn’t like me. He’s a dragon rider, and among the hybrids it was thought for years that his dragon Belzac was the last of the breed, the last of the Ancients. Years ago, though, a hidden nest of eggs was discovered in the ruins of Algernon. Fearing that the eggs would be destroyed, Nox fled to the valley seeking refuge. The valley sits on the verge between the Shadowlands and the human world, touched by magic from long ago that only a few remember. The council was hesitant to allow Nox to stay, but ultimately a pact was made, and Nox was granted refuge. The eggs hatched one by one as their riders came, and the academy was born soon after. The dragons have flourished here in the valley, and yet other hybrids like me have stayed hidden. All of that is going to change soon though. Deep within the Shadowlands an ancient magic is stirring, more ancient than the dragons themselves. I can feel it in the depths of my soul, and I can feel the fear of thousands of years springing to life again. When I was born my parents knew that I was a hybrid, and they moved to the valley to hide me. I grew up learning about magic and the Ancients. By the age of twelve I had mastered basic magic and manipulating the elements. When I turned sixteen, I was blessed with the Dragon’s Kiss and it felt like everything just fell into place. A piece of me that I had always known was missing finally became a part of me and for the first time I felt whole. It wasn’t easy, growing up in a town of humans. Magic wasn’t abundant, much like the dragons it was barely more than myth. Only the senior members of the council knew that magic was real. They were the direct descendants of the Mages that lived with the Ancients and helped the dragons banish the evil that plagued the land. The valley was established as a buffer between the magical and the human realm, and the council was made to protect the valley and the humans that were oblivious to it all. Some humans knew, of course, but not many. Those who did fled Algernon and the Shadowlands, escaping to safety far beyond the valley. In honor of the dragons who died the living mages cast a spell and created the Dragon’s Kiss. Only those worthy of magic with a pure soul would be blessed, and thus hybrids were born. Marked at birth by a flame, hybrids carry within them all the knowledge of a world almost forgotten. The scrolls kept in the archives at Algernon foretold of the Dragon’s Kiss and said that one day two hybrids would cause the destruction of the world. One would be a girl, pure of heart and soul through and through. The other would be a boy, corrupted by grief and owned by the very darkness that destroyed him. He would take the girl with him and burn her very soul until nothing but hatred was left. Together they were destined to end the era of dragons. The scrolls were destroyed in the Great War, but one member of the council was given the prophecy with each new generation. In an attempt to prevent fate, hybrids were scattered the world over and raised from birth to hide their status. I’ve never even seen another hybrid myself, and I’ve been alive for almost a century. That’s another thing about hybrids, we don’t age like humans. I’m actually quite young by hybrid standards, most of us live to be almost five hundred. I long to be free of the valley, to roam the world and learn more magic. Teaching at the academy has been rewarding, and I’ve made friends with riders and dragons alike. The dragons know I’m a hybrid, and they keep my secret. Nox knows, too, that I’m Soul-Bonded to Zephyr, oldest of the Ancients. But Nox also knew something that I didn’t, something I should have been told long before my parents died. My name is Ember, and I’m destined to destroy all of dragon kind.
By KIMBERLY LAVENDER4 years ago in Fiction
Gone Is The Sweet Rain
There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. Once the Valley was our home, our sanctuary, and our piece of heaven on earth. Tucked and hidden from the rest of the world our home was bountiful. The soil seemed to grow anything you put into it. The mines seemed to be a never-ending source of riches whether its gold, silver, jewels or iron. The water was so clear and blue and always refreshing. The rain was something to behold as well, it always seemed to come at the right time not being too heavy nor too light. Just perfect and it tasted and smelled so sweet as it fell. Oh how I miss that rain. That is all but a distant memory now. We are a broken people and the Valley is no more. For now.
By A.C. Calvert4 years ago in Fiction
The day the Dragons left
"There weren't always dragons in the valley, once this valley was a dark and dreadful place. I have a tale to tell my name is Aaron I once was king of the dragon people helpers of the dragons. The sun was a dark crimson red and the skies had dark burning clouds. The smell in the air was of sulphur and ash. This valley was a place of great sorrow and suffering."
By Craig Maxwell4 years ago in Fiction
Dwarven Dragon Warrioress
There weren't always dragons in the Valley. Then the dwarf lady arrived. Who ever heard of a dwarf with dragons? She came to town with several loaded wagons, and said she was looking for the owner of the mystical valley. All of our sleepy little hamlet knew the owner, for he was none other than the mayor, Bugetrory Lorance. He loved that valley with the stream flowing out of the cave at the base of the mountain, meadows of wildflowers, and pools full of trout. Now, if the dwarf lady wanted the valley, we all knew the answer would be no. Others had tried to purchase it before for absurd amounts of money; he always said no. So she was pointed to the mayor’s house and was let in.
By Ryan Conner4 years ago in Fiction
Strange Lands and Terrible Monsters
There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. Before, this was a sacred place where the streams, the trees, the very breeze that swayed the forest carried the essence of the Old Gods. But the Old Gods are gone, and the dragons are everywhere. I see them, perched on top the gigantic trees around me, camouflaged under the dense canopy of leaves overhead. Their yellow, glinting eyes are like beacons lighting my path. Searching. Watching. Waiting. They hide in the cover of shadows as I make my way through the forest.
By Lucy Herrero4 years ago in Fiction
Ashes of Dragons
There weren't always dragons in the valley. Like dark clouds carried on an angry wind, they came, with gigantic wings, stretching across the sky; so thin, you could see the intricate veins spread across their leaf-like wings like a spider’s web. These winged beasts followed the invaders, feeding on the dead.
By William Saint Val4 years ago in Fiction
The Incendiaries
There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. When I was a child they were only myths, rumors spread by travelers and villagers familiar with the stories. My mother knew the Vardian Prophecy well, reciting it to us often in the glow of the fireplace before bed. The land will perish, the mountains will fall, and the Fire Queen will rise again upon the return of the dragons. She will be your salvation. Her voice was always warm and soft with the words, cradling us into a hopefulness everyone else had abandoned years ago. For people like her, this prophecy was more than a story spread through taverns, more than whispers after dark. It was religion. An inevitable fate. The dragons would come, and the Fire Queen would rise.
By Khloe Kammerzell4 years ago in Fiction
