family

No Where They Could Run
Chapter 1 From The Eye and Ears of a Dragon A mother dragon was gathering food for feeding her newborn young when she found what appeared to be an abandoned toddler wondering alone in the forest. Immediately her motherly instinct was to take it and protect it from the robots or the male dragons, but out of fear that it was a trap she stopped herself. Robots were known for luring and trapping mother dragons so they could capture their babies only for them to never be seen again.
By Ruby Estelle 4 years ago in Fiction
Sanctuary
Calypso panicked as she threw the blankets onto the floor. Griffin had been seen only thirty minutes ago when she had left him to play while she showered. After she searched under the crib and through the dwarfed linen closet in vain, she stopped to breathe, combing her fingers through her hair to pull it out of her face. Her mind raced, trying to figure out where he could be; she had looked everywhere and he was only two. He could not have gotten far.
By H. Winters4 years ago in Fiction
Son of the Mountain Dragon
Hariric had seen so many things in his time alive. He’d seen little, green, fresh sprouts turn into mighty trees that survived forest fires and floods. Entire mountaintops had vanished from erosion or sprouted up from mighty earthquakes. There had been years so dry that even Hariric, who despised the rain and cold it brought with it, found himself praying to feel just a drop of it on his face. Sometimes, if Hariric sat still long enough, he could watch the moss and vines that had managed to grow on his scales continue to spread out further. However, nature hadn’t been the one that had changed the most in the centuries Hariric had dwelled on earth.
By Aurora Mandeville4 years ago in Fiction
Altar of Aligore
Worn smooth from years of rain and mother’s tears, the altar in the clearing glowed under the light of the full moon like it was a missing piece. The old priest limped to the stone and ran his hand down the edge from above his head down to his waist, forgetting about the small procession behind him for a few moments. Maeve stopped at the border between woodland and glade. Her husband, Caleb, placed his hand on her shoulder and gently pushed her. She shook him off.
By Sean A.4 years ago in Fiction
The City of Wilmington
Winds blew. The trees leaned like they were reaching for ambition, for poetry, for thought. A whirring sounded faint. The sound grew gradually like the positive volume on a remote control. A white drone looked like a small cloud against the cerulean sky.
By Skyler Saunders4 years ago in Fiction
Salvation
The fog in the forest was thick. As if to shield the tragedy from the world that was about to occur. The trees swayed in agony, and the stars twinkled brightly in warning. For even they wept in despair, for they could not prevent what was destined to happen. A distraught mother ran through the forest with bunched up cloth clutched to her chest, tiny legs swinging from beneath it. Her feet padded the ground, each step bringing her closer to the spot that was salvation in dire times. The growls and shouts behind her were inhuman. The beast has come to kill her child, for she showed signs of great power that will put their existence to death. The beast has a truce with the humans that if they keep their world normal, they would reward them with ultimate freedom. In return, they had to kill all the mythical beings and make sure they stayed banished from the human world. Her child came of age where signs of her witch powers would be shown, no matter how hard the mother tried to hinder them with medicine, the child's powers were too strong, and they were going to be the death of her.
By Leah Cole4 years ago in Fiction
A Promise Kept
The foothills rang with the anguished cries of the fallen. The empire of men had been driven out of the draconic mountains. His duties to his kind fulfilled, Dapple was free to return home. The emerald dragon looked over the devastation they had wrought once more before taking flight. As he flew, relief washed over the lonesome dragon. No more would he endure the name his kind forced upon him, Sinnom; no more would he need to play nice to avoid being slaughtered like the humans. Dapple could fly back to his corner of the forest and live another few centuries in peace before the inevitable rise of man required him to join and fight with his kind once again.
By Jonathan Howe4 years ago in Fiction
Narmanath
Woosh, woosh, woosh, the sound of flapping wings whispered into the cold and partly cloudy night. Moonlight that peeked through the clouds, reflected off of tears streaming down silver scales from piercing blue eyes. Narmanath, the Great Defender, was fleeing from his home in the Rising Rocks Mountains. His breaths were labored between sobs of grief, the sounds of the war cries of men, magical explosions, and dying dragons still rang in his mind. His chest ached and his stomach sank. How could they? After everything the good dragons of Tucaro had done for them, how could the people betray them so? The heat of rage filled his heart, the tears stopped and were replaced with fire, he took a sharp turn and began to soar towards the nearest village when he heard. “MAMA! MAMA!” Narmanath stopped and searched for the source of the cry.
By PJack4 years ago in Fiction
Hair and Heart of Flame
The dragon had destroyed larger villages, but none so quick as this one. She dove from the sky, roaring and blasting her fires across the thatch huts of the small houses. Three passes had been enough to set the whole town ablaze. Sheep and horses scattered along with the townsfolk that were not huddled in their homes.
By William Smith4 years ago in Fiction
Soft Claws
Nefagar stared at the small creature before him, babbling and cooing on its back as it lay on the forest floor. Its skin was so soft and pink, with such weak little limbs flailing in the air and a bit of drool dribbling down from its tiny mouth. In comparison to his own immense, majestic form, the thing was truly and utterly pathetic. No claws, no scales, no wings, no tail, and certainly no fangs in that gummy orifice it was wailing from. Nefagar sneered at such disgusting weakness as he got a whiff of its scent and knew for certain what this puny gremlin was: a human. Even when hunting outside of human encampments, in the depths of untamed wilderness, he still had to deal with the little menaces. Their kind truly seemed to infest this world in abundance over the last several thousand years, claiming ownership to territories populated by dragons long before the apes began making tools and shedding their fur. This one, however, seemed to be one of their offspring, a mewling babe left on its own.
By Pierpont Buck4 years ago in Fiction
Sixth Degree Burns.
Before I tell you the details of our plan.. I’ll tell you our “villein” origin story. My sisters & I are an anomaly, if you wana call it that. We all carry active dragon genes. Which SHOULD be impossible (the government says). The norm is one active gene dragon per woman. That’s how it’s been for..for-ever. My sisters and I are all active dragons. Not just one kind of dragon but each one of us has our own clan, our own colors, and our own powers. There’s Red Dragons( Me),the Green/Emerald dragons(Casey) have powers like acid breath & toxic talons, the Gold Clan(Derrey) controls and manipulats electricity, Blue Dragons(Ash) have the gift of cloneing, Purple(Faye) can use absorption and fusion,Black or white dragons (Britt), can read minds & control illusions. I don’t know what caused this to happen but the breeders were sure it was our mom. She Herself, a dormant dragon, should never have been capable of making us. Let alone 6 different clan dragons. They took her from us. As soon as my youngest sister Casey, opened her emerald/green dragon eyes. She was no longer our mother. She belonged to the city. It was her duty to make more dragons. I guess our mom knew what was to come. She didn’t fight or plea. She looked at all of us one last time and said “stay together”. Which was easy for a while. They let us stay together since “none of us were of age.” So Since we couldn’t use our powers or make more dragons we were considered useless and not a threat.
By Tasjanah Anderson 4 years ago in Fiction
Saccades
In spoken Romancy, the word "dragon" in its most literal definitions, means "non-living", or "un-alive". This was a fact that somewhat perplexed Iris, as she didn't recall feeling particularly "un-alive". As far as she was concerned, she was more alive than anyone. Especially, she was more alive than the little mortal things that defined her that way. The peoples of Roma, always so quick and desperate to define. Everything always had to be dangerous, or ancient, or foreign. They loved their definitions, even for the things they didn’t understand. Things like Iris. She was older than them, stranger than them too. A piece of the old world itself. But the peoples of Roma had their ways and Iris had hers. She was not one of them, of course. She was, as they say, a dragon; one of only four. Moreover, she was the oldest dragon, the first one. That made her the oldest thing of all things. However the little mortals chose to define her, that was their business. She knew what she was, and she knew her mission. She was blessed with it, burdened with it, even before her first moment in this world. Those misguided mortal things that so misunderstood her were actually under her sworn protection. Yes, that was her mission. They were her mission. Her blessing and her burden. She was created, just like her sister and two brothers, to cradle and protect mortal life. A weighty design to be sure, but one she was more than capable of fulfilling. She had a purpose. It was something she carried in her bosom with pride, even if the little people on the ground didn’t know it. It was enough for her to know.
By C. Martin Thornton4 years ago in Fiction