Fantasy
Athena's Dragon Slayers
There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. Or rather, this Valley hadn’t always been in the realm of the dragons. Athena stood, regal yet weary, staring down the hillside to where her destination had lain. Mere seconds before this very instant, she had been coming down the slope of Mount Diabolos, heading towards the polis nestled low in the vale. Had she not had to get back up onto her feet, she could almost have sworn that her eyes were playing tricks on her from sheer exhaustion. But she could still feel the ripples of the forceful wave that had reverberated up from the Valley, sending her careening backwards in a most undignified fashion. When she had stood back up, the city as she knew it… was gone.
By T. L. H. Auty4 years ago in Fiction
The Fourth Wing
There weren’t always dragons in the valley, a fact any visitor would undoubtedly be surprised to learn as the streets of Vanris overflowed with reminders of their presence. Here was the Blue Dragon tavern, home of the patented firebreath whiskey. There was Marrak’s Goods and Gifts store, where you could purchase a genuine dragon scale for the low price of thirteen shillings. Even the Royal Museum had an entire wing dedicated to dragonology. Indeed, try to tell a visitor that the first dragons had arrived no more than seven years ago and they would likely call you mad. Yet, that was the truth, and even if the citizens had forgotten the time before dragon-mania had swept the city, Laared Osan remembered.
By Mackenzie Broadbent4 years ago in Fiction
These Bridles Are Our Own
"There weren't always dragons in the Valley." The Wrangler fiddled with the brim of his hat, shifting his weight from one foot to another as if the dirt beneath him compensated for his own discomfort. "Until recently, we were only permitted to breed 'em in the Northern regions. Real remote, like."
By Nines Hearst 4 years ago in Fiction
Rising Embers
There weren’t aways dragons in the Valley. My father would always tell stories of his life as a young man before they fled. The land was peaceful and prosperous, the summer fields were always green, and the winter snows whitened mountain tops. These stories are a taboo in our country now, the priests forbid it, believing that the dragons’ wrath are a punishment from the gods for our indulgent past. Our people fled the valley in the wake of fiery destruction settling at the edge of the Karmac a great desert far to the south of our native homes. To appease the gods the priests began sending the best of every generation as a sacrifice, marching us north to the scorched valley. Pray for me, as this year I am the chosen one of my village.
By Frank Pope4 years ago in Fiction
Elnore
There weren’t always Dragons in the Valley. The countryside used to be spotted with farms and livestock, but the farmers have long since fled and farmed newer, less blackened ground. Still, there is a serenity to the valley despite the lingering stench of sulfur and smoke from the small brush fires that dot the greenery. The Dragons make an impressive scourge. They can be found almost anywhere in Vacqik but they were drawn to this valley, probably for the same reasons people are. The river that runs through the town is the very same river that runs through this basin. I would not swim or drink downstream from the river knowing what the townsfolk have been doing to it, but the dragons crawl indiscriminately up to the stream and drink gluttonously at the water’s edge. I love coming out here to watch them despite our typical, adversarial relationship. I put my sword beside me and lie back into the soft grass I had been sitting in and close my eyes. I take in the warmth of the sun and the cacophony of smells in the abandoned valley. This is my place. This is where I have purpose.
By Hannah Oran4 years ago in Fiction
Mother of Destiny (Chapter 1)
There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. Erdri was having none of that nonsense. For the last couple of years, the number of creatures that migrated into their once-peaceful glade had seemed to steadily increase. Many were simple nuisances, like the pack of pixies that had passed through the month before and entertained themselves by setting fire to patches of grass and scaring Erdri’s dahu. Or the river sirens who had nestled into the lake, and whose midnight serenades called sleeping villagers toward the water—and certain doom. Or, at least, it would have been certain doom, had sleepwalking villagers the wits to use a doorknob. Those who didn’t wake up and go back to bed were found slumped against their front doors, dreaming crude and wonderful dreams.
By Alex Kempsell4 years ago in Fiction
The Billough War
There weren't always dragons in the valley. I remember the day they arrived in all their pompous and supposed glory. Caravan after caravan came floating in the sky in every conceivable color and adorned with gold embellishments that wove from the edges to the center and culminated in various family crests. As if any of the Fae would have recognized them. Us "blue flies" as the upper-class kin so kindly refer to us don't care for stores of valuables; in our experience, riches like that are a curse. I've never met a wealthy kin who wasn't miserable with paranoia or pride. Still, seeing so many vibrant colors flying overhead our little corner of the Billoughs was a captivating experience. Like a flock of huge exotic birds. If that had been the only experience of Dragonkin I'd had, I'd have held them in a much more gracious view. Unfortunately, those beautiful caravans carried hundreds of entitled, powerful kin who were no doubt looking down at us and speculating about how we could best be put to use in their service.
By Ama Pomingo4 years ago in Fiction
Neen and the Salt Congress
There weren’t always dragons in the valley… So, why now? Neen thought grumpily as they flew toward the new Dragons, tucking low against the glassy salt flat to check their reflection. The meeting to which they were heading required Neen to do something they detested: primp. After they had been elected as Visiting Consult, Tonec insisted that all Neen’s scales be polished, ridge sharpened, claws retracted, and, to Neen’s utter disgust, fertiline pouch covered. Why should it matter to these random dragons whether I plan to birth? They thought, banking smoothly east to rip a couple giant Fint leaves from the nearest bush and weave the resinous tips through their large, velvety flank scales. Neen puffed out a snort as they thought of the scale and skin that would come off when the leaves were removed later.
By Vidya Misra4 years ago in Fiction
Keala
CHAPTER 1 There weren't always dragons in the valley. She remembered when there were only unicorns, but now she liked having the dragons around, she thought to herself as she admired the majestic creatures glowing, flying through the cosmos leaving stardust as they passed her by. One of them coming so close she could see its skin shimmering an iridescent rainbow color that she could feel so smooth and cool to the touch. She was entranced by how graceful they were, how kind and gentle she could feel their energies. It was almost like they had cast a spell on her to feel an overwhelming abundance of love that filled her whole heart and body. It was so magical that she didn't have the words to describe such a feeling of beauty. It was nothing she had ever felt in her lifetime and nothing like she had read in her books of the fire breathing dragons that always wanted to destroy and kill. It was quite the opposite.
By Keala Asher4 years ago in Fiction
