Fantasy
Dragons Intrigue
There weren’t always dragons in the valley. There were fairies and nymphs, the occasional troll or glass man. There were even mermaids that sometimes swam down the stream that cuts through the valley’s center; gathered in the pool at the end and exhibited their exquisite fins. But not dragons. There were stories of them. But no one had ever seen them. Few believed the stories or even continued to tell them anymore. They were myths, fallacies, as magical as a portal to another epoch. And yet the valley was now rampant with them. Dragons were in every corner of the valley, even meandering through the village itself. Those who had kept the stories alive were delighted. Those who had relinquished them were in awe or contempt, maybe a little of both. I had never known what to believe. But sitting on the natural bridge in the southwest corner of the valley with a spectacular view of the valley, the sight sent chills through my bones. The dragons, more brilliantly colored than anything we had ever seen, were everywhere. Their skin was impenetrable and iridescent, the skin itself seemed to be constantly active even when they stood stock still; always putting on a show, unable to come to a rest. As if their skin didn’t put on enough of a performance, their wings were a whole production of their own. Two massive wings, at least double the size of their entire body when fully spread, were barely noticeable and settled across their backs and sides when not in flight. But in addition to these, they had several smaller wings, some only half the size of their flight wings others mere inches wide and as thin as hair. Each dragon's array of wings was different from the next, but all were covered in sleek feathers, unlike the rest of the body. Some wing’s uses had been discerned, swiping away pests, defense, providing shade; while others seemed useless, simply an embellishment.
By Shyanne Box 4 years ago in Fiction
Dawn of the Age of Dragons
There weren't always dragons in the Valley. As strange as the thought may seem now, there weren't ever dragons anywhere except for those written about in myths and legends or found in books or films. Stories conjured by the imagination of a species that constantly craved distractions of the sort. Imagination, now there's a word you never give much thought to in a serious context, it's no small thing it turns out. Imagination, if harnessed by those with the proper resources, given the right conditions, and a conducive environment, can become a power. A power that can ride on winds strong enough to pierce the thin veil that lies between the realm of its namesake and the realm of reality. A power, that can change everything.
By Richard Naeson4 years ago in Fiction
Sapphire's Wings
There weren’t always dragons in the valley. That was what my father always said when he would tell his grand tales by the fire. Listeners of all ages would be captivated by his breath-taking descriptions of magical creatures and heroic adventures of his youth. That was until one day, the Warriors of Sandoval came to take my father away for daring to tell his stories. His stories were considered a crime against The Crown, showing King Percy of Sandoval in a less than appealing light. The King wished to be the greatest- and most feared- power in the lands, and having old adventures spread their tales of heroism when the Warriors of Sandoval sat idly by was not acceptable. Fearing the next generation might try to follow in the heroes of old’s footsteps, The King had my father, and many others, imprisoned. My father knew that day would come, for his truths, or his blood as he was a pure blood elf. His transgressions against the King, and his elven blood, became my burden to bear. For the next ten years, I lived in the orphanage in town. Now though upon my 18th birthday, I, Sapphire Warwick, was finally free, and I was going to find my father.
By Catherine Guillotte4 years ago in Fiction
Fantasy Prologue Contest
There weren’t always dragons in the valley. Arnate sat on the cliff ledge, inhaling acrid smoke watching Uafas stretch to the sky, piercing the clouds with neon orange fire. Flakes of burnt ash from her hand rolled cigarette floated towards the remains of the Forest. Uafas roared, Eagla answered. The mountain upon which Arnate perched trembled. No longer did she react to the noise, no longer did she wonder at the horror she wrought. The memory of the Valley as verdant, lush and tranquil was merely a wisp of a dream.
By Maura Lynch4 years ago in Fiction
Numinous Menagerie
There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. When the vortex squalls came, winds whipping and howling, lightning and ice pummeling the ground with fury; then the dragons were gone. The whole flight would tuck away to whatever shelter they seek. Then my father could lead the Rangers into the Valley armed with spears of wood and thick padded leathers and blades of stone to not draw the lightning, to collect as many wooly aurochs as they can carry.
By craig lavine4 years ago in Fiction
The Ruins of Embers
There weren’t always dragons in the valley. Long ago, there was a thriving city here. Buildings reached so high that the tops of them seemed to rival the surrounding mountains. There was constant noise coming from the busy streets. Children laughed and played as loudly as their hearts desired, without fear. Now, all that’s left of those buildings are charred ruins, like stumps of once tall and proud trees. The streets that used to be chaotic with life, are now so quiet that you can hear the breeze blowing through the weeds that grow in the cracks of the long-abandoned pavement.
By Jessalie Olin4 years ago in Fiction
The Dragon Rider's Guild
There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. Hyacinth Valley was luscious and green. There were eleven villages within the valley, all prosperous. Every village had a central market, a crop grower, an animal farmer, a blacksmith, and a tailor. The villages were bustling every day and the merchants in the villages often traveled across the valley selling their goods. With vast trees and plenty of space for everyone to live comfortably, Hyacinth Valley was a wonderful place to live. There was just one thing: Queen Menan, the most vicious ruler in the western kingdom. She had been on the hunt for something her forefathers had left hidden in the valley. What that is, no one knows. It had to be important or valuable because the hunt has been going on since I was just a baby. And lately there had been talks about villages being burnt to the ground. The rumor was that it was dragons. And that is when the Rider’s Guild appeared with their dragons causing destruction and poverty. Clad in black leather, they made their way across the valley. Hyacinth Valley used to be a peaceful place and now everyone in every village feared for their life.
By Jessi Dessert4 years ago in Fiction
The King of Hearts
Prologue There weren't always dragons in the valley. Then again, many other creatures and races of our world weren't always here. The elves, the dwarfs, the lizardmen, Including our own kind as humans had a beginning. Gather around young bloods, for I shall unfold The legend and history of the world we live in.
By David Clemente4 years ago in Fiction
