Fantasy
Fire from the West
There weren’t always dragons in the valley. That was before Emperor Kronin subdued the lands to the west, opening the trade routes to the furthest isles. Strange merchants brought stranger goods and our simple towns were overrun with by the wave of change sweeping into the country. New languages, foreign spices, strange garb and most unexpectedly, dragons.
By Addison Witcher4 years ago in Fiction
MANA
Skyrow was a snow dragon. He kept a journal using an old apprentice's grimoire, enchanted to survive basic wear as through moisture and temperature changes. He had an impressive memory and no real need for such a thing. Especially since he was, by the reckoning of his kind, extremely young.
By Matthew Daniels4 years ago in Fiction
The Dragon's Chosen
Chapter 1 - The Gathering There weren’t always dragons in the valley. Not that Sami believed it, not even when grandpa Olin said it and he was the most trustworthy adult she knew. Everyone knew that without the dragons, the valley would have been destroyed long ago by the wars, or plagues, or bandits, or—some other horrible thing out of one of the stories told by the adults late at night when the kids were supposed to be in bed.
By T.S. Fergus4 years ago in Fiction
Serous
There weren’t always dragons in the valley. Come to think of it, there weren’t ever any dragons in the valley. When the flooding came pouring over the brim of the mountaintops it filled the basin below. The roaring waters cascaded down the mountainside and snuffed out many flames of life in a matter of minutes. It spilled over the tops like overflowing lakes and rivers the people of the valley were accustomed to, usually revering the gods for plentiful irrigation for a healthy harvest. The valley was usually quiet, and not much stirred the wills of the people. That was until the flood brought Dragons.
By Omar Al-Mahmeed4 years ago in Fiction
Vowed to the Old Gods. Top Story - June 2022.
There weren't always dragons in the Valley. The boundaries, though invisible to the human eye, were clearly marked and maintained by the witches who served as guards to the Old Gods. Tales passed down from the humans made it clear that the witches protected the humans from the dragons. Tales passed down from the dragons made it clear that the witches protected the dragons from the humans. But the one thing everyone seemed to be able to agree on was that the witches were a cold force: a solemn group, as stern and haughty as nuns, cloistered away in the mountains where they could pray and practice magic in silence…
By Kira DeSomma 4 years ago in Fiction
Nights of claw and shadow
Prologue "There weren’t always dragons in the valley. Up until recently they had been merely of myth or legends; cautionary tales told to scare children out of wandering too far from home lest, they be snatched up and eaten by dragons. Or one to scare adults from meddling with ancient powers far beyond themselves unless they wanted to end up a pile of ashes.
By Eireann Bullimore4 years ago in Fiction
The Valley Stirs
"There weren't always dragons in the Valley," the Cobalin High Priest's voice was strained as he eased himself into a pile of overstuffed pillows atop intricately hand-carved, low furniture. His violent cough brought a young Cobalin assistant to his aid with a stein. The priest declined the ale with a wave of the hand and continued addressing his guests. "It's a relatively recent occurrence."
By Steven Teets4 years ago in Fiction
Dragon Born
There weren't always dragons in the Valley. When they arrived, it was in chains. Sought after by the rich and powerful to protect their property, a fully trained adult dragon cost enough to feed a village for a year. Therefore, it was no surprise that plenty of people were willing to risk their lives to capture the creatures, even if success rates were extremely slim. The reward was high enough that droves of humans of all stature marched into the mountains where the dragons lived. So many that the dragons became overrun. Their young were captured and those too dangerous to be trained were murdered, until the once noble hoards were now scattered and in hiding. Still the humans chased them and would do so until there was not a single free dragon in the world.
By Christina G. Gaudet4 years ago in Fiction
Makara
2000 a.m. “There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. Then again, there wasn’t always a valley, either. When Gaia was young, and Bahari’s waters had just begun to flow, the dragon brood favored the archipelagos and sea caves of the middle. Born under Nikini’s full splendor, from magma as it streamed into the sea, the dragons adored their rocky, volcanic homes and cherished the warm, salty water. There, the dragons swam, dined on fish, and slept beside glowing rivers of red, content for millennia. But as Bahari grew to maturity, as his water cut and shaped the land, the dragons grew curious. And as their molten home grew old, as each red river turned black, the dragons became restless. For they had heard the whispers of the fish. Had felt the tremors of the earth. Had tasted the truth in the water. And they wanted to see it for themselves. They wanted to see Gaia’s high peaked children and ached to feel the lush grass of her belly. They wanted to bathe in Bahari’s freshwater, taste the flesh of new fish.”
By Krista Palmer4 years ago in Fiction
