Fantasy
Tymryg
Tymryg wasn’t your typical dragon. As the days tumbled on through her six hundred some odd years of life, she lay quietly in her cave high atop the mountain watching the stars at night, sleeping through the day. At times she would carefully roam the night forest on foot so as not to draw the attention of the villagers. She saw what happened to Maelogg. What they did to him, the day he ate two humans and burned the village to cinders.
Sioux RobbinsPublished about a year ago in FictionThe Blood Moon Witch & the Golden Dragon of Gamariah
Chapter 1: Find The Hybrid Child Claws sunk deep into the pineland forest, taking down saplings one by one like twigs. The Great Golden Dragon of Gamariah gripped into the earth as swiftly and silently as dragonly possible.
The Great Green Dragon and the Pearl
The Great Green Dragon. That is what they used to call me when man looked to the skies with wonder rather than anger. Long before my joints grew rusty and my scales grew moss. The Great Green Dragon. My once lustrous visage has grown dull with the years spent amongst the deer and bears in this ancient forest. I can recall the day I retreated here, however the years have grown so plenty, I could not possibly tell you how long ago it was. I have lost track of the winters, grown weary of the summers. My body aches, I am weary. Perhaps the time of dragons has passed. The Great Green Dragon. The time of man’s wonder faded to war. War against themselves. War against us. Against the races. Where once we all lived in harmony and harvest, the earth is scarred black from war. At least it was, last I checked. The forest is quiet. Always quiet. The food is bountiful this deep in. No man would ever wander here. I no longer soar above the tops of this haven, my wings stiff and back hardened from years of unuse.
Ether NoblePublished about a year ago in FictionMama
The stars shine brightest on moonless nights. With no other light to distract from their magnificence, they twinkled and danced across the River Seldaryn. Nykaenyth lowered one of her long pearlescent Talons into the water as she flew, enchanted by the way the lights shimmered. She knew she should not be here. The Seldaryn divided Fendry and the Empire, both of which would send armies and machines of war after her; nevertheless, the words of mortal kings meant little to dragons. Nykaenyth knew that the High King of the dragons, Tennō Lendys, would condemn her midnight flight. She only chuckled to herself, a rough rasping sound like leather on leather.
Chase HowardPublished about a year ago in FictionShensel of the Dragon’s Wisdom
“Sing to me of a time long past. An age when men are kings, and beasts are gods. Where steel ruled men, and fire commands steel. Sing to me of the Age of Dragonlords.”
Snearick JinlongPublished about a year ago in Fiction- Runner-Up in Christopher Paolini's Fantasy Fiction Challenge
Edge of the Ashes
The sky was growing inky in the spaces between the stars. Amarya gazed up, feeling the silhouettes of a tired world around her.
Jo LavenderPublished about a year ago in Fiction Witches by Nightfall
It was not a surprise when she came knocking at my door. The rain was coming down in torrents, and her umbrella did nothing to stop the relentless water from soaking her fine clothes. In my hand I held my favorite tarot deck, and in my heart, I could feel her sadness. “Moonchild, I require your immediate services.” Though we were acquainted, her tone remained steady and none the less chilly, as if she were talking to one of her handmaidens. I nodded and stepped aside, allowing her to walk into my warmly lit home.
Serena NorrisPublished about a year ago in FictionThe Last Dragon
The sweet smell of fear emanated from the small child, who sat alone and abandoned on the bed of decaying autumn leaves; easy pickings for a fully grown dragon. Yet as Laethril landed heavily on the soft, wet ground; her long claws, like razors, slicing into the malleable earth, she hesitated…
Silas BonestrooPublished about a year ago in FictionThe Last Shifter
There were over 70 deaths caused by the dragons in the past three days in the small country of Gaia. Most were by the fire ones. Some of them were shifters.
Leona ValentinePublished about a year ago in FictionThe Cult of Beelzifrus
The infant clung to the young woman as she ran through the forest. He gazed up at the mesmerizing shapes of sunlight in the tree canopy towering overhead. She set him down on a broad flat rock and hastily drew a circle around him with black charcoal. As she untangled herself from his grasp and took a few steps backwards, he reached for her. She stared at him, her lips moving quickly but soundlessly as she clutched a pendant that dangled from her neck, a smooth opal tear drop that began to glow. Her eyes began to glow the same light dappled violet colour as the stone. The two year-old child felt a flicker of fear ignite into a larger flame and big tears began to splash down his ruddy cheeks. Flashes of an incomprehensible horror crowded his mind; many screams and then bodies lying quiet and still on the floor as blood spilled from them in several places. The images receded and he reached out again for the woman, whimpering softy. He tried to move his limbs to climb down off the rock with his relatively recent powers of locomotion, but he quickly realized he couldn’t move, some force was keeping him locked in place. As the woman broke from her soundless chant, she gave him one last look, eyes soft, loving and welling with tears, then turned and ran off, her black hooded cloak rustling up a pile of dried fallen leaves behind her.
Amy MackenziePublished about a year ago in FictionInferno Legacy
His inner eyelid opened, slowly, tracking movement through the forest of the creature whose loud breathing had woken him from his slumber. Between the trees he saw a small human, a boy wearing a tunic too large for his little frame, wandering up a rough and poorly maintained path. He flicked out his tongue, tasting the air, smelling the boy’s fear and confusion, with a tiny dose of determination mixed in. He detected no other human scents nearby, though within a couple of leagues or so he smelled others, including one he’d encountered before. In fact, the scent of the boy, who was clearly lost, resembled that of the familiar one but with a stronger scent of determination. Perhaps his long wait was finally over. Perhaps he would be able to fulfill his father’s wishes after all. Sinuously, he moved his head forward until it was only a few feet from the path. Grasping some leaves, he spread them over his head. Motionless, he then concentrated for a moment. Just in time, as moments later the boy, clearly exhausted from walking up the steep path, sat down on his snout with a sigh. He waited a few seconds before shaking the boy off, then slowly rose to his full height. Unlike the last human he’d met, this boy didn’t run off screaming, instead holding his ground despite the growing scent of fear he emitted. He’s the one, he thought, opening his jaws in a grin that let his fangs sparkle in what little sunlight filtered through trees. He lowered his head towards the boy…
David RabbaniPublished about a year ago in FictionA Light, a Child, a Forest
In the Labyrinthine Forest, time did not behave as it did in the rest of the Rainlands. Beyond those leafy borders, months and years trudged along in an orderly fashion. But in the Forest, under the boughs of the primordial trees, in that perennial autumn where leaves and rain fell inexhaustibly, the passing of time was as impossible to distinguish as drops of water in an ocean. So it is with some trepidation that we say our story occurs in the Third Age, when the Lost Kingdom of Eld was at the peak of its influence, and its citizens still honored their ties with the Forest, and surrendered those unfortunate children born before the harsh summers to the mercy of the trees. A brutal tradition, to be sure, but a necessary one, the farmers that lived along the Forest border agreed – for it was ultimately a choice between certain death and an uncertain future. That was, if it could be said that there was any future in the Labyrinthine Forest… or past, or present.
M. S. BirdPublished about a year ago in Fiction