Fantasy
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
Fallen From Grace
The trumpets roared a harsh melody, and the golden gates flew open. A lone figure was flung through the opening. His crestfallen countenance echoed the severity of his plight. His radiance yet remained, though as he plummeted further, like a burning match starved of oxygen, it fizzled out. His angelic wings departed in a flight of feathers in the wind. His neat golden curls turned to black. His piercing yellow eyes darkened to a deep chestnut. His elegant vestments dissolved into dust. Crecios was left a skeleton of his previously vivacious self. Growing ever smaller as he descended, his features grew childlike until he was nothing more than a lone babe. He was stripped of his wisdom, his power, all that gave him purpose, and now he was falling to his imminent doom.
By Kevin Harrington4 years ago in Fiction
Liminal Limit
Liminal Limits Falix had spent his life navigating the gaps of prophecy. Like all dragons in his fleet, he had been gifted with a hint of precognition, a sort of sixth sense that certain strands of the universe were headed his way. He knew better than to strain too hard against the shades of fate. If he dreamed of storms, he flew for shelter. When the wind started whispering that some of his cave mates were primed to start stealing Falix’s food, he struck out on his own. So when he came across the child in the forest, he knew he should have left it behind. He knew that the child would have it’s soul ripped away by the necromancers that hunted it. The child would fight, Falix knew that for certain. Because this was no ordinary toddler. No, Falix recognized him as Tozon the godling, youngest member of the Boaxan divine pantheon. Or, more accurately, the last member of that pantheon. The necromancers had burned the shining city the Boaxans called home, and stolen all their power. It was an apocalypse long foretold, and the dragons knew better than to intervene, even though many of them had liked the Boazan gods. Killing little Tozon, was the final step in a ritual that took decades to create, and Falix should have left him there. Instead the three year old god rode atop his back, high above the trees.
By Wilbert Turner III4 years ago in Fiction
Rashem and the Mongoose
Rashem and the Mongoose By. Danielle Assouline “nnnnnnnnnnnnnnn…” That was the only sound Rashem heard as he picked his way through the forest. At first he thought it was odd that there were no birds or insects making their incessant noises, he was enthralled by the silence of it all. And then…
By Danielle Assouline4 years ago in Fiction
The Child Wyrmwood
95 years after “The Assumption” of the Dragon-King Volundoor, Wyrmwood Forest, Eastern Jik in the realm of Vrosk The midday sunlight glittered off the ancient dragon’s crystal scales. The dragon was far from any semblance of a lair, soaring high above the Wyrmwood. The dark pine trees grew high below him and bright colored birds sang and twittered alongside him. The creatures from below would look up and see a glorious translucent white that seemed to draw light inward and spread it all over the dark trees.
By Nathaniel Windsor4 years ago in Fiction
The Witchling
Secreth's eye shone from the thick overgrowth as she watched the Wanderers abandon the witchling. The tallest Wanderer wrapped the witchling child in a lavender robe and placed her in a basket under a cluster of weathered pines. The Wanderer knelt. Whispered words escaped from his mouth and were lost in the wake of an underlying breeze, but for one word that carried itself upon the wind: Neith.
By Andrew Dehnke4 years ago in Fiction
Tiny Human
It was the perfect day to start a war. Perhaps it was the brilliant blue sky begging for arrows and dragon flames to fly through it, or maybe the stars had aligned behind that very same curtain of dazzling blue. Most likely, the humans were bored and needed something to do. Whatever the reason, Aries was pissed. It was also the perfect day to go ice gliding, and she had packed a picnic of deliciously greasy fish to enjoy on the edge of a glacier. But the humans had come with their flaming arrows and magical powers, and Cedrick the dragon king had rallied all able-bodied dragons to fight.
By Camillia Simonds4 years ago in Fiction
Help I'm Being Drained Of Energy by Society
Help I’m Being Drained Of My Energy From Society Heather R. Baker She had never left that house alone before, not that she could remember. Her parents were strict, stricter than any other she was sure, though Mauli had no friends to compare with really.
By Heather Baker4 years ago in Fiction
Guardian of the Forest
I closed my eyes as my wings drifted softly over the forest bark and ferns. I took a deep breath and pulled in the fresh scent of nature. It had just rained and it’s lingering moist aroma was still hanging in the air. My wings hit familiar leaves and I opened my eyes to look over at the familiar strawberry bush. They were large and red, perfectly ripe. I nimbly picked a few off the bush, savouring every bite. It’s sweet juices burst into my mouth and I smiled. Nature was such a wonderful gift. The sweet strawberry fragrance mixed with the musty odour of the fresh rain; and to me, it was perfect harmony.
By Alyxander McLean4 years ago in Fiction
Child's Play
Waking is a slow affair, velvet smooth and ice cold. Waking is abandonment. Coming home. Being free. Waking is a child taking their first steps for all to see, the secret hours of practice locked behind doors, not to be talked about. Waking is remembering. Becoming one.
By l.j. swann4 years ago in Fiction
