Fantasy
Beyond the Valley
There weren't always dragons in the Valley. Yet there was no denying what the beast before me was. My body was frozen. It seemed as though everything was moving in slow motion. Terror filled every pore, every organ. A high pitched whistling drilled into my ears. And the smell. Just like uncle had described it- acrid, burning blood. As the creature moved it’s horrible, slithering body towards me, I knew I was going to die. The beast brought it’s face to mine, those glistening eyes level with mine. Before I closed my eyes, it opened its terrible jaws, displaying one thousand pointy white teeth. I was about to die.
By ANGELICA SANTINI4 years ago in Fiction
Secrets in a Desert
There weren’t always dragons in the Valley, but when there were, that’s when you knew he was out and about the Valley floor. Occasionally, when the dragons come out, the desert night vibrates with their low, deep crackles. His dragons are his guard dogs, his watchers, his hunters. And all knew that when someone went into the Valley, it wasn’t a guarantee that they would come out.
By Safiya Younas4 years ago in Fiction
The Gift of the Dragons
“There weren’t always dragons in the Valley,” the Grand High Chancellor of the Exchequer of the King’s Hand intoned, very deeply and grandly. His dark crimson robes, embroidered in gold thread and trimmed with silver sable, swished over the wooden stage as he gestured to the wide plain before him. “In the earliest times, as your ancestors have no doubt told you, there was nothing but wide forests, untamed rivers, and roving hordes of the awful and twisted Darkmarch. Our people — the few, the bold, the courageous — were so nearly annihilated. And then, just as death seemed certain, the first king, Ilqan Altiia, was given an extraordinary gift.”
By Anne St. Marie4 years ago in Fiction
The King of Scales
“There weren't always dragons in the Valley.” My father’s voice is ancient in my memory. I had sat on my haunches in rapt attention. The whole village seemed to fall quiet. I like to imagine even the birds paused their singing for a while. “We were a peaceful folk. We’d not yet desecrated our hands. We’d not yet damned our souls.”
By corey laisure4 years ago in Fiction
Crags and Caverns
There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. More avian than terrestrial, their love for flight drew them to the pinnacles and crags; roosting in massive aeries cleverly arranged out of reach from all but the most skilled and daring of climbers.
By Tiffany Golden Warner4 years ago in Fiction
Stories in the Walls
There weren’t always dragons in the valley. In fact, there still aren’t dragons in the valley. But there was a short time when I was a child, when the dragons came from all directions. You knew they were coming when you saw smoke mixed with clouds on the horizon. When the edges of the clouds glowed a darker black. When the river ran faster and the shadows were darker. They traveled in the shelter of clouds and when the clouds reached overhead, it was too late to run. Cracks that others would think was lightning would begin and fire would fall from the sky. Screams from the village would drown out your own thinking and the heat in the sky would force you to your knees. Your only hope was to make it to the caves on west end of the valley, and that was after you made it across the river.
By Tierra Antoéne4 years ago in Fiction
The Girl and the Saint
“There weren’t always dragons in the valley, you know,” Mabel began, her voice low and filled with a storytellers depth, “they used to keep to the mountains, where they hoarded their gold in caves, and killed any unlucky sheep or goat that might stray from the flock. That’s why Granny only has cows. They’re too heavy for the dragons to carry off.”
By Jessica Southern-Reid4 years ago in Fiction
