Fantasy

The Archealchemist
There were not always dragons in the valley. And if, by the saints, trouble comes in threes and miracles abide alone, then there shall come a time when we long for their return.
By J W Knopf4 years ago in Fiction
Dragoon's Teeth
"A poet can write about a man slaying a dragon, but not about a man pushing a button that releases a bomb." ~ W. H. Auden There weren't always dragons in the Valley of Ataúd, but nowadays, there were too many to count. The armies of Bel-Katran & Dorn-Atrax had recently razed two distant districts to the ground, leaving very few human survivors. Although it was called a valley, Ataúd was actually a broad canyon that circled the globe of Draco Primus. Within it, seven districts remained to be conquered by the vicious Dräägz⁠. From the Northern mountains, Dragoon Ereboz looked down on the dukedom of Logoz. Simultaneously from the Southern ranges his twin, Dragoon Eroz, oversaw the duchy of Ludoz.
By Obsidian Eagle4 years ago in Fiction
The Rifts
There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. They were there sometimes, their translucent half-corporeal bodies reflecting the light of moon or sun like clear mountain water as they rippled across the sky, slipping between the curtains of reality that fluttered invisibly here and there around the edges of the foothills surrounding the Valley. Other times, however, they were somewhere else — where, nobody knew, not even the wisest elders or the most educated mages.
By MelToth4 years ago in Fiction
Deep Scars
“There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. The oldest of the elves told of a time before them, a time when the cracked, dry earth of the Valley was lush and green and vibrant. Then, the dragons arrived. They were ancient, primordial drakes, and their rule was absolute, tyrannical. The Valley went up in a blaze of hellfire that burned for a century, sending ash and smoke and embers into the sky, choking out the lifegiving sun and staining the clouds an inky black. Even the elves struggle to remember for how long the people of Kysaarun lived under that void-like, sunless sky, but they tell of the mass extinction that followed.
By Devan Siebert4 years ago in Fiction
The Last Days of Magic
“There weren’t always dragons in the valley.” Renques’ out-of-nowhere comment broke the silence that had consumed his party since they started making camp after a tiring day on horseback. He and his two travel companions, an old, grey-haired man in a dark surcoat and green cloak and a similarly dressed tall dark-haired boy in his mid-teens, had settled on a spot at the edge of a meadow that overlooked the valley they had been riding toward for the past eight days.
By Tapio4 years ago in Fiction
His Gospel
There weren't always dragons in the Valley. It's true, I was there. Auen remembered these words, as he walked down the rocky steps, leading to what he supposed was a tomb. These were the first words HighLord told him, once he volunteered, leaving his family behind. For years now he had been learning from him, sharing his secrets on the true origins of the dragons, on the two moons and on wishes.
By YonathanJ - Writer4 years ago in Fiction
The Valley Above
There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. There still aren’t, according to all but a few of us. I run my fingers along the aged wooden cage and give a quick tap on the shimmering substance filling the spaces between each beam. Hard as glass, swirling like the surface of a bubble, but unbreakable. I stretch my arms out to either side, resting my palms on the rough horizontal log, and press my nose to the enchanted surface.
By J Gentry4 years ago in Fiction
The Light of Lismore
There weren’t always dragons in the valley. Before the Light began to fade, when man and Donatai shared the Valle of Lismore, the mighty beasts remained in their caves, high above the glen, never daring to roam the skies.
By Jennifer Urciuoli 4 years ago in Fiction
Emeralds in the Bog
There weren’t always dragons in the valley. Fables told of a city-sized beast at the edge of the Earthly plane. His twin heads and tails whirled around each other like a fern’s spiral fronds. He was supposed to be the last. Frozen mid-flight in an immense glacier. Bubbles hung still and scales bleached coral white. His meteor eyes oscillated steadily as a pendulum, turning in concert with constellations on head. He wore the glacier like a crown, the world atop Atlas’ back.
By Venusian Dawn4 years ago in Fiction
Trick's Own Stationary Roadshow
He was Trick to his friends, Mr. Van Niftrik to his students, and Jephthah to his parents. For all of his names, he was cursed to remain, always, the same person, which made him relish how almost everyone else was in a constant state of change, particularly since he “authored” said changes himself.
By Eric Wolf4 years ago in Fiction
Child of the Stars
There weren’t always dragons in the valley, nor were there mages, but what Aphelia just witnessed back in the city, was something more than such myths her grand-elder had relished in elaborate tales of folklore to her. She feared even he would be mystified by what she just witnessed, before all she knew, in her 9 years, was disintegrated into the plume of smoke now far behind her, ominous in its grim taunt over her hometown; its orange glow like a hellish ember burning against the calm admiral valley.
By Daniel Pierce4 years ago in Fiction
The Mirror Guard (chapter 4)
Four: Four Days in the Stark “THERE IS NOTHING LEFT!” Eva shouted. They were sitting in a clearing. Nothing but white around them, far off to the south there was a cluster of pine trees. Eva was on her knees rooting through the two survival packs that they had. Mrs. Shimmyshanks was laying in the still erected tent. Every so often you’d hear her groan in pain. Her temperature was continuing to rise.
By Nathan Charles4 years ago in Fiction