Fantasy
The Rogue Dragon
I weave in and out of the crowd, shoving, dodging, nudging, all the while filling my pockets with an assortment of treasures. So far I’ve been able to “acquire” a small pouch of coppers, a carved oak owl for luck, an amethyst bracelet, a gold band, a wood pipe, some string, a rather interesting sea green rock, and a couple plums. Not a bad haul and it's barely time for dinner. I have always loved the energy and excitement of the market and it's not because it's a great place to pick pockets. There is always something exotic and rare on display from people who have come from far away countries and villages to sell their bizarre items and talents. Today the market is filled with a multitude of people all bustling to sell their newly harvested watermelons, tomatoes, varieties of squashes, sweet potatoes and baskets of large strawberries. Breeders sell their goats, pigs, and chickens of all different shades and sizes. Fabric Weavers exhibit their fine silks and patterned fabrics for customers to admire their flawless shimmer and intricate needlework. Mysterious Soothsayers shout the importance of charms, amulets and nick knacks to gain favor with the Magicae. Food vendors prepare raw cuts of meat and fish covered in a blend of spices on their griddles, the juices dripping onto the hot coals causing a delicious sizzling noise, encouraging my mouth to water. Bakers cut and package bread woven and shaped into ornate patterns.
By Julia Elizabeth 4 years ago in Fiction
Ancient Friends & New Ventures
A gentle, chilly breeze drifted between the green leaves of the trees. A shrill wail echoed throughout the woods. Lost and alone, a toddler stumbled through thick undergrowth. Tears streamed down the small girl's pale face as her short white hair and long white dress danced in the wind. Her bright green eyes darted out of sheer terror as she walked and crawled through the forest.
By Mel E. Furnish4 years ago in Fiction
Ondir
The little creature in the water was drowning. The boat above had capsized. The sea serpent did not know what had happened. It surveyed from the watery depths of the abyss the aftermath of what must have been an explosion. There was fire in the water and screams. Terror on the surface and then wreckage. Humans were swimming and flailing in the water. Legs and arms and flurries of motion as they panicked. They did not seem to notice the little one yet.
By Janea Speer4 years ago in Fiction
The Scaled Child
The child showed no fear as the shadow passed over it, cut through low hung clouds and returned to engulf this frail body in ultimate darkness. Indeed, the child merely reached out towards the leathery wings, the sharpened talons, the heat expelling from the nostrils. Sometimes the prey doesn't recognize the predator and this seemed to vex the dragon. It stood upright and beat heavy wings until the branches shuddered and the leaves fell. The child rolled backwards and came up laughing. The dragon, becoming enraged, tested it further, bringing one great golden eye within orbit of the child's face, blinking slowly until the lizard like iris revealed vague eons of a dominant species. The child merely saw itself in that domed reflection and smiled. The dragon sniffed at it to which the child let out a great sneeze, sending a gout of snot across the dragon's scales. It recoiled in disgust. It could eat this thing here and now and be done with it. It had done far worse for lesser transgressions. Yet something about this child made it appear bigger than the mere morsel it might offer the beast. It brought a claw down around the child, three talons encasing it like a prison cage. Then, careful not to tear the precious flesh of the babe, it scooped it up, clumps of earth and all and carried it through the air towards a cave in the distance. What sounds the child could be heard to make seemed almost joyous in nature.
By Kincaid Jenkins4 years ago in Fiction
