Fantasy
The Story of Icarus
The vermin had shot him down 20 leagues ago. Luckily, he flew close to a river and fell into it as an escape. They had gotten crafty, scarily good at hunting his kind for being so small and weak. Icarus shifted uncomfortably, the wound trickled blood slowly. How shameful to be lying here when he belonged in the sky. He needed time for his magic to heal him and unfortunately the wooded area seemed the safest place. He huffed and shifted his wings, stopping his movement suddenly at the snap of a twig. A low rumble began deep within his chest as he prepared for whatever may come. He didn't think the humans could follow him so far and so fast being as slow as they were. The rumble abruptly stopped when he beheld a small human, staring at him wide-eyed and bearing its teeth. "Are you proud of yourselves to see me in such a state?" The small human's mouth fell open as it took several hesitant steps towards him. "Back away you filthy mongrel," he growled, laying his head down between his mighty paws. The tiny human did not listen. It instead continued its tottering journey towards him. It smelled like a man, but with that sweet smell of innocence. No ounce of fear. A man child then. Its hair at the top of its head was wild, dirt smudged every space of tanned skin. It wore a filthy, tattered piece of clothing. Lost? Or abandoned? Icarus wondered. Either way he figured, the small thing would not last long in the wilderness. One less dragon hunter then. The toddling thing finally reached him, placing his small hands between his nostrils. He huffed a breath that ruffled the child's hair. One of the most beautiful sounds Icarus had ever heard came out of the child's mouth. A laugh, he realized. He didn't know humans could make such noises. He had only ever heard them scream. Yet, here this small human was making a noise as beautiful as the wind on his face and the sun warming his scales. The child looked at him expectantly. Icarus chuckled at the look, the movement causing the child to fall. The familiar screaming came with tears but the small child looked so pathetic, Icarus felt a twinge of guilt. The child sniffled and said, "Bad Birdy!" He wailed and pointed his finger at the dragon. "I'm sorry little one," he responded, bemused. A mighty dragon being swayed by something as small as his claws. One flick of his claws and the thing would be dead, however it trusted him. Implicitly. "It okay Birdy." The child said, wiping his teary face with a dirty arm. Icarus grimaced at the filth. "I am no bird, Child. I am a mighty dragon!" He huffed again, sending the child into laughter as the air ruffled the child's clothing.
By Madison Raes4 years ago in Fiction
Exordium: Maka's Magic Journey
“What is it?! What is it?! Can we keep it? We saw it first!”. “We are not keeping it. It’s probably dangerous or something.”. “Oh, yes, great idea! Why don’t we keep the dangerous thing. Makes perfect sense. Why didn’t I think of that?!”. “Probably because you’re not as smart as me.”. “Neither one of you are smart! That’s why I was always in charge.”. “Or maybe we just let you think that.”. This was the conversation that took place between the three heads of a hydra dragon, Sparky. Sparky was a monsterous, red dragon. Each of his heads had a different temperament. The left head was more silly, fun, and pleasant. The middle head being very stern, somewhat nasty, and swore he was in charge. The right head was the sarcastically honest one. Some even referred to the right head as a tad rude at times, but he was more passive-aggressive than anything.
By Sharon Smith4 years ago in Fiction
The Dreams We Yearn For
Many years ago there was a great Dragon. She would fly across the seas and go on great adventures. She lived a life many can only dream about. Yet, she longed for more. One day, after flying for many hours across the sea the Great Dragon yearned for a drink of water. She followed a stream that led through a forest, winding past grizzly bears, unicorns and humans alike. Passing by a human village right before she came to a lake. The lake was long enough that the Dragon would have to fly for a few seconds before reaching the other end. A human’s eyesight could see from one end to the other, but not anything that rested on the opposite bank. Unless of course, there was a Dragon. She landed with earth shaking force to ward off any predators nearby who might dare to challenge her, only too late realizing they could have been dinner. But maybe lady luck would provide for her today as she spots a large fish tail slap the water’s surface. Dinner it is then, she muses.
By Grace Tompkins4 years ago in Fiction
The Thatched Basket
At the edge of a great grassland was a forest where big and little things hid. The slightest wind bristled against a thatched basket where a young child lay in the deepest of sleeps. Waves of nimble grasses swayed in the dwindling twilight, a dance older than time, and the shadow of the basket grew longer and longer, menacing in appearance until the light retired.
By Zach Burger4 years ago in Fiction
Son of a Dragon
My mother once told me that humans are greedy, violent, ungrateful creatures who never think. Never think about what they’re doing or what will happen after. The bedtime stories she told me were terrifying: a young human boy was gifted magic beans for his sick ox. Instead of sharing the beans and feeding his starving mother, he climbed the beanstalk, stole from the sky giants, and even killed one of them. A pair of children were abandoned by their selfish parents in the woods. They get taken in by a kind old woman living alone in the forest. She feeds them her best saved treats and in return, they kill her to have all the rest of the food to themselves.
By Taylor Malais4 years ago in Fiction
A cold heart in the face of spring
Weregemeir woke to the sound of spring rain, it dripped into his lair somewhere from a hole above. The dragon raised his head slowly, emerald green scales rustling off the dust from a long winter’s sleep. He swung his head slowly from side to side looking around for the source of the sound, it was not in his immediate vicinity. No, the sound lay outside the nest of tree branches and thick furs that Weregemeir had collected the season before. He stood, his short legs stretching, and prowled towards the sound. The drips came from the overhead of the entrance of his winter lair. The droplets fell through a gap in the barricade of felled trees that sealed the entrance of his outer lair. His long serpentine neck twisted as he examined the leak, he then snorted dejectedly and began scratching down the trees with his iron sharp talons. He was hungry.
By Hannah Reish4 years ago in Fiction
A Man Named Ada
It is winter, the snow swirls like spirits dancing in joy, oblivious of the remorse welling up in the man who walks through the fields and into the woods, clutching to the bundle plumb against his chest. His eyes sting, freezing the tears before they can fall. The child clinging to his chest begins to cry.
By Isabella G Jones4 years ago in Fiction
The Earthbound Stone
The sky will no longer have me. I stare at my shadow on the white snow capped forest. Speckled holes pierce the membrane of my wings, creating voids of glittery moonlight in my silhouette. My knotted muscles yank my wings downward, snapping a few of the copious arrows piercing my hide, but my descent is inevitable. I sink like a stone in a flowing river… The frost embrittled treetops slap against my scales. From this direction I am mostly safe from puncture. If only humans were as imprecise as evergreens… I close my eyes as trees splinter against my underbelly, the dirt finally halts my momentum. I have often hit the ground, but on this day the ground has struck me back.
By Ben Briggs4 years ago in Fiction
Reconciliation
The moist earth was mottled with green sunlit hues filtered through the canopy above-- random, disjunct, and artful in the way only nature is. The air carried the scent of the forest. Warm, musky, slightly sweet. It was quiet here. While the plants were at home in these woods, and the ground teemed with small fauna, insects and the like, larger creatures rarely ventured this part of the land, keeping instead to the deeper, densest reaches of the forest, and the valley that sprawled beyond the final crags where roots held their purchase. In the opposite direction, the space between the trees gradually grew wider, thinning from forest to plains, where small villages could be found. Here, though, was quiet. Quiet, save for the wind as it whistled above, and the gentle rustle of the waxy leaves, the subtle crunch of insect workers… and the wail, the horrible, piercing wail of something unseen.
By Caitlin Holly4 years ago in Fiction
World's End (Shortened)
His anger surged within him as he blasted dragonfire upon the villagers. He could hear them shouting, he could feel their fear. He reveled in it. That is what he, the great black dragon commanded! Ah, the pitiful lives of these mortals, weak timelines at best.
By Dylan Brons4 years ago in Fiction
