Fantasy
SOLARIS: ageing in reverse
‘There weren’t always dragons in the valley,’ it was the Ministers morose voice, Lana recognised it as it cut like an uncanny knife through the blue cloud misting her lens. As she climbed the upper steps she had met the vision of a clotting mist absolving itself in the archway beyond, it seemed to throb to some dark alien pulse but as it scattered, her lenses relaxed on a figure. Lana’s foetus gaze was mesmerised as smoke swallowed the Ministers body like an enormous living tulle, a kind of chrysalis distorting her vision of his angles. She was delighted.
By Luluah-Fatima Ahmed4 years ago in Fiction
The Day The Sky Burned
There weren’t always Dragons in the valley. They used to stay high in The Sword-Fang Mountains, hiding away in great hollow caverns beneath rocky peaks. The people of the mountains had fled into the valleys to escape the Dragon’s wrath, but some had little choice but to brave the treacherous craggy paths.
By Thomas Evans4 years ago in Fiction
Insidious Touch
Prologue "There weren't always dragons in the valley" His hypnotic voice tempted her to move closer as he swayed. Savigne smiled and let her wicked intent flash through her eyes. "Is that what you are?" She allowed a soft chuckle to slip from her lips. "You weren't quite what I was expecting."
By Crystal Rivas4 years ago in Fiction
The Dread of Ascica’ara
“There weren't always dragons in the Valley, but they came when she called. Among fire and smoke and the searing screams of the dying, she stood in the midst of chaos, bleeding sword held high above her head, and shattered the world with her warcry.
By Brittany Moore4 years ago in Fiction
Dragon War
There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. The Valley, a relatively peaceful name for a land that provided the only refuge from the Dragon War – a war which had ended over one-thousand years ago, leaving much of the land scorched and bare. Four great Kingdoms had once existed throughout the land. The land flourished and thrived. Treaties were formed, wars were fought, trust was betrayed. Yet the Kingdoms still stood. Once.
By Jonah Davis4 years ago in Fiction
The Reaper's Tomb
There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. We were all witches, sure, but no dragons among us, at least not for hundreds of years. Everyone was so sure that they’d all died in the war. But it’s not like we could ask any neighboring village. Fire waged a war on Water, and now there’s not much left except for the Valley. We’re sure it had a different name once, but that was a long time ago. We don’t know much about who we were or where we came from. We may have had some indication of who our ancestors were if Water, the dragon in the east, hadn’t submerged half of the city underwater. We built above the water to survive, but we never expected what came out from underneath.
By Whitney Fowler4 years ago in Fiction
Mingling
There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. They came after the Mingling. No one knew what was happening back then. How strange that our provincial corner of Sylian would be their means of egress when the War Priests of Otherworld dreamed for the final time and pierced the veil. We call it the “Rift” or “Gate” since it was made for them to walk into our lands with their waking bodies. I was so, so young then. Impossibly happy and carefree. Insufferably unaware of all I had. Ignorant of all I was to endure.
By The Beornings4 years ago in Fiction
The Iron Claw
"There weren't always dragons in the Valley. Not that it was safe before, you understand. A wild, dark forest still covers the valley floor just beyond the plains, and it was teeming back then with wild, dark things: bears, vipers, great dusk-grey stags with antlers as sharp and deadly as any platoon of spearmen. Then there were the direwolves. They're not around much nowadays. People call 'em wolves, but they have about as much in common with regular wolves as their hulking wardens have in common with natural men. Big bastards, the direwolves, with enormous yellow fangs and shaggy, coarse fur. Their paws are as big as a man's hand, and tipped with rending claws. The wardens are giants, 8 feet if an inch. They wear wolfskins, and carry bone axes. They eat raw meat too, just like their companions. Tear it right off the bone of their kills. Hard to tell the two apart from a distance, and that's as close as anyone'd get anyway. 'S a pair vomited up by the Undergods themselves, if you ask me."
By caleb paschall4 years ago in Fiction
Dirt
There weren't always dragons in the valley. Generations ago, before the sun split in two, the valley was inhabited by The Great Grumblehook. A nasty creature who had been killed in battle by Liggy the Dangler. So called because she had a habit of dangling kings from the tops of their parapets. A habit the monks of the time were set against on principle. The divine right of kings and all that propriety. But they wisely kept their mouths shut lest they too be dangled in an unseemly fashion from the tops of their suspiciously ornate parapets.
By Nychele Kemper4 years ago in Fiction
