Fantasy

The Shepherd
Wide-of-Wing is my name, and all who see me tremble. My lungs are of fire, and my skin of ash. I am shepherd of the mountain, stirrer of The Blood. Since the last Great Hatching I have watched over the flock and they have grown strong under my careful eye. When the scent of the mountain’s smoke called my brethren home and hatchlings rose from the fires, the feeding would be plenty.
By S. E. Schneider4 years ago in Fiction
Righteous Flame
Sharp, wet leaves scrape against Rafaele’s face with each step into the dark woods. The rain has ceased but the mud, like glue, makes progress impossible. The child’s cries are hoarse from hours of screaming, now but whimpers against the priest’s rough cloak. Rafaele takes that moment to kneel beneath a large fallen oak and listens. He can no longer hear the shouts from the Queen’s guard or the wails from the desperate mother. He knows that after this moment, the High Priestess will no longer accept him in the temple. Even in this mission’s success. Rafaele spits on the ground, his throat parched from the hike. He has never dared to venture this deep into the forest, no one has, for fear of encountering creatures of wings and fire. Tonight, it is their kind he seeks.
By N.J. Karp4 years ago in Fiction
Of Scales and Skin
Prologue I’m not a hero, I’m a coward that was in hiding for most of my life. But that’s not the reason why I’m in chains, in a dark, cold dungeon having my scales plucked out one by one. I’m here because I felt something in my cold, rock-like heart. Something I hadn’t felt since my mom and sister were alive. Something that was of more value than my dragon life. It was her. That tiny little ball of flesh. Her big brown eyes are the last thing I wish to see during these final moments. At least, I know she’s safe, back with her family. I drift into a painful sleep and that night I first came across her floods my mind.
By Elsa4 years ago in Fiction
to trade away fire for the sea
Untouched, unchanged, unmarked—a solitary gravestone stands at the edge of the cliff, overlooking the grey skies and the sea. It’s exactly the same as when it was erected centuries ago. Antares has made sure of it, committing each grain of sand along the makeshift burial grounds to memory. Up until now, the last resting place of his lover has remained frozen in an ageless time.
By Y. Lynn4 years ago in Fiction
The Whisper's Tale
I can see that you do not hate me, wheezed the Whisper. For now, you only fear me. That will be amended, for you shall soon learn what I have done to you.
By Will Stinson4 years ago in Fiction
When Traveling a Shady Trail
Madeline pressed on through the forest, Corbin following not far behind. This wood wasn’t like the ones back home; there, the trees were old, but passive. They didn’t feel like they were watching. They didn’t creak and shiver as you walked past.
By Will Stinson4 years ago in Fiction
The Last of the Dragons
Terreges. The Land of Kings. Or rather it once was, until the rulers of the age were deceived, following the lusts of their hearts, wishing only to fulfill their selfish desires.
By Mark Crouch4 years ago in Fiction
The Moon Dragon & The Lost Hatchling
Roused from its slumber was Kath by the incessant giggling of the human hatchling. It had become nearly impossible to get a full day’s rest since taking pity on it.
By Michael Bivens4 years ago in Fiction
“Pirates, Plunder, and a Plethora of Problems”
The four adventurers soon found themselves in an elegant drawing room overflowing with tall bookshelves, large map tables, and rows of map stands that held dozens of tubes for rolled maps. Various brass navigation instruments, mostly sextants and telescopes, lay scattered about the room, as if their owner still cared too much for them to put them into storage, yet knew they were of little use in the modern day of astral navigation.
By David White4 years ago in Fiction
The Boon
With a satisfied munch, a shimmering green dragon feasted on a pile of freshly roasted goats he had plucked from the hillside. Goats were tough creatures to wrangle, and the dragon — named Basil — was always particularly pleased when he was able to capture a few as a well-earned snack.
By Allison Keene4 years ago in Fiction
Hope saves Night
"For the past few months our flyers have been quite low, and our most devoted flyer is in their mid-eight hundreds” “I will always fly for this territory, till I take my last breath!” yelled the oldest dragon of Selene.
By Italia Howell4 years ago in Fiction
The call of the void
The cry pierced the void like a flame in the dark. Each one a surge of life and warmth, forcing back the tide of tendrils that are Terra Mater, grasping at my soul. With each burst I felt the energy returned to me, first finding the world coming into view.
By Ryan Hatfield4 years ago in Fiction