Fantasy

Abelard - Chapter 14 - Abelard - Father sets him down for 'The Talk'
The city of Lusterlin, light lit by the half full moon above, was truly a beautiful place. Abelard paused, briefly, at his favorite viewing spot on the bridge, the reflection of the moon's glow visible on the Lustre river below. The same spot he had accidentally startled the moon gazing Darkling.... Was it truly only weeks ago? It seemed a lifetime!
By Canyon Cappola (TheNomad)4 years ago in Fiction
Haunted By Dreams...
🔮 The Haunted Stanley Hotel in Estes Park, Colorado – Legends of America Based on; {Legends of America Exploring history, destinations, people, & legends of this great country since 2003.}
By Pseudonym “Kathy,” though my legal name is Chantel.4 years ago in Fiction
The Tiragan Prophecy
Prologue There was a time, long ago, where the skies were ruled by the dragons. Thousands of years ago, the earth was populated by many species, but none as powerful and domineering as the dragon. The great fire breathing beasts were separated by two factions: the Kalugu and the Paruntu. These two species of dragons had fought against each other for generations, forging fabled battles that the people of the land would chronicle via stories, hieroglyphics, cave paintings, and statues. These wars saw lands become obsolete, despaired, and changed forever. When one of these legendary beasts would perish in a battle, their carcasses would eat into the ground, causing a pool of fire and lava to form, and creating the landscape where the carcasses decayed to becoming what we now call today as volcanoes. The carcasses were like seeds to the formation of volcanoes, and that is why certain regions of the world have an influx of these lava spewing mountains (due to the high concentration of dragons in those areas).
By Birithivy Yogaratnam4 years ago in Fiction
Tears of Fire
The warrior clambered over the large boulder, stumbling onto the unpaved path that coiled around the mountaintop. As he shuffled to his feet, the air was rent asunder by the dragon’s rage-filled roar. An inferno blasted out of the dragon’s mouth and engulfed the mountaintop plateau in a blink. The showdown was inevitable, realized the warrior, with trembling knees. His heart thrashed against his chest, and his shivering body made the metal armor rattle. Overhead, dark clouds of smoke rose ominously…suspended over the mountaintop…harbingers of fire and brimstone looming above. The warrior’s resolve faltered as his knees buckled. His armored hand fell on a large stone to keep him from reeling over.
By Fezan Javed4 years ago in Fiction
The Last Subroutine
DRAGON searches for a way to die. He soars above the Titanium Forest, a ruined collection of skyscrapers and roads and human debris that had once been a city. Wild wheatgrass sprouts from every crevice in concrete and metal, climbing the towers inch by inch on its way to reclaim the realm of sky that once belonged to ancient trees.
By Addison Horner4 years ago in Fiction
The Sassy Dragon
“You fellas remember that time we slew the dragon?” Sir Maximus asked his three friends, he was the second oldest of the group, a retired knight of the borderland countries. The Sassy Dragon tavern was near full on that eve, barmaids bustled about with drinks and food, laughter and smoke filled the room, barely audible over the din a singer strummed a lute by the hearth. The table they sat was small and round, the same table the four old men had been sitting at for years.
By Dakota Rice4 years ago in Fiction
To Own
It was snowing today. Agersith knew, because it was one of the days he found himself suddenly able to fly above the forest’s treetops—though it was a rough, unceremonious, scratched-up journey both on the way up and down, filtering through the drapes of pin-pricking, oversized pine needles. With the forest too dense to begin a flight with his wings, the dragon could do nothing but wait for the days it snowed and his body levitated rapidly, of its own accord, through the intricately laced branches overhead.
By Tanya4 years ago in Fiction
Moments of Clarity
The sun sets as a lone fisherman lies asleep in a dinghy out at sea, an empty beer can in one hand and a photo in the other. The photo consisting of newlyweds dressed in all white with the groom in a Canali tuxedo and the bride in a David’s Bridal gown. The bride smiles with her head laying down on the groom’s chest, their hands in front showing the rings of their union. The photo had been in the fisherman’s hands ever since leaving his affair with an escort he visits routinely to this day. After bar hopping, they stumbled towards a dock where his dinghy nearly floats away from a loosely tied knot.
By Shatanya Sche4 years ago in Fiction
Verlax, The Son of Urrimont
A grown Dragon, once found a toddler in the forest, and so began the legend of one of the greatest heroes that the race of men has ever produced. The Dragon was an old one; ancient in his name. Firadrang men called him “Flamefather” but to his own kind, he was known as Urrimont, the son of Seffirom. Urrimont had lived for centuries, and had in that time, grown to hate the race of men. He despised them, for they were a race of liars and cheaters, backstabbers and betrayers but few among them had a good heart. When he came upon a child of men, in the forest that he had claimed as his own, his first thought was fury. He thought of scorching the earth upon which the child stood and the child along with it, ridding himself of this vermin.
By Katie B 4 years ago in Fiction
The cries of Jacob
The sun was mid past High Point when Cora finished her shopping. She had stopped by the Tannery to see her husband and bring him some lunch before visiting the market. She used to love the market. The bright colored bolts of cloth, the garden fresh vegetables. Crafts and tools made by people you knew. Even the hand crafted leather goods her husband William had made. How the women would chatter about the heat or cold, and gossip. Oh could those women gossip. It was all light hearted, and for the most part in jest, that is until last year.
By Dave Blade4 years ago in Fiction
Daphne
A sound squealed around the inside Sifentir’s skull like a drunk mosquito. Ignoring it as best he could, the dragon exhaled a cloud into calm afternoon skies. Teasing the puff with his wings, he shaped it into a castle fit for a countess with plenty of skeletons in her closets. Sif had four wings, like a butterfly. Unlike a butterfly, his stretched twenty yards to either side. With another exhalation (and several twirls of his long tail), Sif wrapped the castle in fairy bridges – and connected them to a drifting, magical city. Leaning beams of sunlight dusted everything salmon orange. After many moments admiring his work, Sif identified the right spot to exhale a cathedral. He drew in a breath.
By Matthew Melmon4 years ago in Fiction
“The Prison, the Prober, and the Proof”
Returning to consciousness this time took every bit of mental effort that Kah’terra could muster. Part of him wanted so badly to remain in the Cathedral that it was like dragging an anchor against the rest of his will. But he held true to the desire to see his comrades again, and eventually, he began to gain an awareness of his surroundings.
By David White4 years ago in Fiction