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A Sea of Dragons

A choose your own adventure fantasy saga

By Bri CraigPublished 12 months ago Updated 4 months ago 6 min read
A Sea of Dragons
Photo by Ryan Moulton on Unsplash


There weren't always dragons in the Valley.

I understand what you’re thinking, but it’s a common misconception. You see, dragons used to be aquatic creatures, they lurked deep into the seas, speckling the imagination of our fishermen (who, as we both know, don’t need the encouragement).

Yes, I promise, long ago there was a day where they terrorized schools of fish, rather than your sickly-looking chickens.

{Do you: [A] get offended or [B] laugh it off?}

[A: Get offended]

Oh, no no. I mean you no ill will. Just your father really. Your father and his gangrened flock of feathers that he still tries to pass off for two copper pieces a leg.

{Continue to C}

[B: Laugh it off]

See, see? An old maid like me can make a joke every now and again. It's good to laugh. Keeps us young. Even though I look 157, did you know I am actually 331?

That was supposed to be another joke.

Why didn't you laugh?

{Continue to C}

[C: The Old Maid continues]

Tell you what, because you're being a good sport - give or take a sense of humor - I'll let you in on a little secret about the dragons, an Old Maid's tale if you will. Consider this my blessing to the youth of today. After all, what is the point of being old and wise if you can't let everyone else know how old and wise you are?

{Whether you shrug or agree, the Old Maid continues.}

So dragons used to be quite the sea creatures. It makes sense when you think about it - their scales glimmer like that of a mermaid, their eyes are beady like a dead fish, and what are now wings were once powerful fins.

Yes, the dragons ruled the water. They were out-swimming the fish, out-hunting the shark, out-eating the whale... the beasties consumed and consumed with no natural predator. The population of those swollen sea lizards exploded, and their hunger grew as their food sources depleted. They needed more.

My mother was told by her mother, who was told by her father, who was told by his mother that the first dragons in the valley swam up the river. Yes, the very river that you drink from, that your nasty chickens drink from...

{Do you: [D] defend your chickens or [E] let the Old Maid continue?}

[D: Defend your chickens]

My my, you are a spirited one! Such language! Surely you could make a sailor blush with that mouth. Your dreadful father would be proud. But despite your impassioned claims, those chickens are not worth what he charges.

Could you just let me continue? Don't you want to hear more about the dragons? Isn't that why you're here?

{Continue to E}

[E: Let the Old Maid continue]

The dragons slithered on up the river and when they had choked the life out of the salmon they began to crawl up onto the shore. The land was soft, solid, and most importantly, full of life. In this valley existed a banquet of Earthly delights, spread out neatly across our grass.

At first, the dragons kept to the water, only leaving the river at night to gulp down our livestock. My grandmother's grandmother's people thought nothing of it at first. A sheep gone here, a chicken gone there...

But as you and I both know, the dragons are never satiated. No - they consume and consume and consume. Fueled by mindless hunger, they could not tell any source of meat apart. It was not until the children began to disappear that the villagers began to notice that predators were lurking among them.

Word spread, and children were kept away from the river at night. But the dragons rather liked the fatty cuts of a toddler's thigh... so they began to leave the water for longer and longer periods of time. And after a few decades, they never needed to return. Their gills closed and their lungs grew stronger in their place. Rather than inhaling water, they began to exhale fire.

The valley changed, and as you know, this place has not been called "peaceful" in many years.

Still, some of us old coots like to hang around, despite ourselves. Home is home after all. The villagers couldn't fight the dragons, so we got clever. You know the drill. Those engorged flying bastards don't like onions, so we grow them in every field, serve them in every meal, and hang dried onions in the windowsill.

Sure we still lose a cow or a grandmother every now and again. But it works well enough.


Your sister?

No, she's probably dead by now.

No? She's alive?

I mean kudos to you, kid. I wish I could be so positive staring in the face of utter hopelessness. Maybe my second marriage would have lasted longer.

{Do you: [F] let the Old Maid continue or [I] push for answers?}

[F: Let the Old Maid continue]

My second husband was a really swell guy, except when he was drinking. Unfortunately, he was usually drinking.

{Do you: [G] let the Old Maid continue or [I] push for answers?}

[G: Let the Old Maid continue]

You could always tell because he would hiccup incessantly. It was comical, like every other word - hiccup. The man couldn't complete a single sentence. I try to be patient. Patience is a virtue after all, but...

{Do you: [H] let the Old Maid continue or [I] push for answers?}

[H: Let the Old Maid continue]

I don't think I heard an uninterrupted sentence from him in our last six years of marriage. Ah, my poor husband. May he rest in peace. It gives me solace to know that he probably gave that dragon hiccups for a week.

{You decide to push for answers [I] before the Old Maid starts getting morbid.}

[I: Push for answers]

Oh! Right. Your sister.

You want to know where the dragons sleep?

Well, they don't sleep underwater anymore, so if she is still alive as you believe her to be, she was at least not drowned too.

What, what? Don't look at me like that. I'm not trying to be dark. I'm just giving you a realistic perspective here.

Look if you say the dragon carried her off alive, then that's your business. All I can tell you is what I heard from my mother, who was quite familiar with a few fishermen.

Some of the fishermen claim there's an island where the dragons flock to at daybreak and sunset. I don't know what they do on that island, or why they congregate there, but I've never seen a dragon sleep before, so maybe that's where they do it.

{You ask for the location of the island.}

You want to go there? Oh. I wouldn't advise that. No fisherman who journeyed that way ever returned.

{You insist.}

Well, if you insist. An old acquaintance of my mother's told me how to get there, so I'll show you where it is on your map.

But you need to understand, no one would be foolish enough to give you passage.

And your sister is probably dead.

And even if she isn't yet, she may be by the time you would get to her.

This journey is perilous, and perhaps even pointless.

Do you want to continue?

{Yes? or No?}


Want more? Find the complete interactive adventure story on at the link below:


About the Creator

Bri Craig

Bri Craig (she/her) is a variety pack writer. She enjoys writing poetry, webcomic features, humor, short stories, and personal anecdotes. Basically, neither of us will ever know what will be posted next!

Let's connect! More about me here.

Reader insights


Excellent work. Looking forward to reading more!

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  • Babs Iverson12 months ago

    That was creative! Left a 💖💕

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