Fantasy

The Dragon of Destiny
There weren’t always dragons in the valley. There weren’t any of my kin either. Not since we were banished a myria ago. Not until the curse was lifted in the recent past. There were, however, legends of a chimera that roamed the Earth in search of its mother land. Auguries that hinted at the Beast of destiny. Myths of the first fire that birthed the universe. Prophecies of Bony humanoid scales that weaved the strings of fate. But no Dragons or Etherens existed in the blood memory of the living that walked Cetea.
By Dhanya Tatachar4 years ago in Fiction
Over-Arched
There weren’t always dragons in the valley. So what the hell am I looking at? I glance toward the minimap at the corner of the screen and confirm the area I’m observing is indeed just outside of the small town of Bellenview. The humble village and rolling fields that surround it are hemmed in by a sort of bowl of mountains, and the whole area is meant to serve as a tutorial locale for players.
By James Prescott4 years ago in Fiction
The Sacrifice's Secret
There weren't always dragons in the Valley. They only came when the temperature dropped below freezing and the sky was so dark that even the stars couldn’t shine through. Swirls of fire would streak across the sky and blurs of colour would shift through the darkness, making the air itself look alive. The heavy drum of their wings would travel far and wide. The sound was cruelly similar to a heartbeat, but everybody knew the dragons brought death and not life.
By Melissa 4 years ago in Fiction
The Far Side of the Mountain
“There weren’t always dragons in the valley. The rocs lived in the surrounding mountains, and they tolerated no intruders, except to eat them,” The old dragon said. He raised his long wrinkled neck and looked down at the hatchlings with milky eyes. Grant gazed avidly back at the red dragon. He was practically wiggling with excitement next to his friends, Violet and Azure.
By Tiki4 years ago in Fiction
A Flight Of Dragons
There weren't always dragons in the valley. That was not to say that there were never dragons in the valley. The high peaks that surrounded the fertile land, dotted with farms, apparently made for very good nests during early Spring, much to the disgruntlement of the birds of prey who lived there year-round. The goats and other animals who inhabited the lower slopes made for a convenient food supply, and the thermal vents kept the nests warm while the parents hunted.
By Natasja Rose4 years ago in Fiction
Salted Duck Eggs at the Dragon Boat Festival
The customs of the Dragon Boat Festival in my hometown have much in common with those elsewhere. There is the custom of wearing “bai-suo-zi” – thin ropes twisted out of threads in five colors – round the wrist. The threads lose color when soaked in water. So after washing face, we often find strips of color stains on our wrists left by the threads. There is the custom of making “xiang-jiao-zi” – fragrance pyramids weaved out of threads to mimic the rice dumplings customarily eaten at the festival. The pyramids are stuffed with fragrance powder, strung up and hung onto the curtain hooks. Then, there are the red paper-cuts of the “five poisonous creatures” to be pasted at the threshold and the amulets to be put up on the door lintel of the sitting room. The abbot of the City God Temple is my godfather, who has a young priest send us the amulets – often along with two folding fans – a couple of days before the festival every year. The amulets are yellow and blue paper strips, over a foot long, and bear mystical red signs that are supposed to scare away the evils. As for the custom of drinking realgar liquor, while the practice of drawing a character “王” (meaning king, also to mimic the pattern on a tiger’s forehead) on the kid’s forehead using the dissolved realgar may be much the same everywhere, I am not sure about one practice in particular – the “yellow-smoke pipes”. These are short tubes in the shape of large firecrackers of North China, only they are stuffed with realgar powder instead of fire powder. They do not explode when lit, but keep giving off a yellow smoke for quite a while. The “yellow-smoke pipes” are lit and placed under the cupboards to fumigate them, thereby, as it is believed, driving away the “five poisonous creatures”. After these “yellow-smoke pipes” have burnt out, kids use them to write the character “虎” (meaning tiger) on the walls. As the character must be finished nonstop at one stroke without any interruption, all kids in my hometown are capable of writing it in cursive. Ah, yes, there is one more tradition customarily called “twelve reds”, referring to twelve dishes in red color. What a pity I have forgotten all but three of them – fried amaranthus, stir-fried shrimps, and salted duck eggs. Perhaps, “twelve reds” is just a concept and there are not necessarily twelve dishes. However, I am absolutely certain that, on this festival, all the dishes for lunch must be red and that the just-mentioned three dishes are compulsory. Anyway, these three dishes are not hard to come by and are affordable to most households.
By YouLanDa4 years ago in Fiction
Falling Toward Dragons
CHAPTER ONE There weren’t always dragons in the valley. But there were today. Finn ran down the cliff-hugging trail along the north face. Little rocks broke free under his left foot and tumbled off the edge. Some landed on the path down below. Others broke off wide and fell toward the lake that filled the valley floor. He was too high up to see them hit the water, and he didn’t dare lean over to peer over the edge. He’d lost his balance and fallen before, but he hadn’t been this high up last time and only fell about thirty feet before the water broke his fall.
By Rebecca Rathor4 years ago in Fiction
Rise of the Dragon Sorcerer
There weren’t always dragons in the valley, and even now no one truly knew whether the tales of the fire breathing beast in the stories that were passed down throughout generations were fact or fable. For centuries, stories of dragons were told by the people in the Kingdom of Zantanova. The nature of the stories changed with time. In some stories, dragons were peaceful tranquil creatures that could be trained to live alongside humans and other creatures harmoniously. In darker tales they were fearsome indomitable monsters who terrorized our Kingdom by burning cities and villages to the ground. Those were the stories most recently told. The stories that gave children nightmares, stories that made anyone both young and old wary of traveling through the valley. It was once known as the Valley of Bones, it was said that centuries ago, the valley was nothing more than dry scorched earth, nothing flourished or survived there, nothing besides the dragons. The only evidence that any other living creature had ever dwelled in the valley were their bones that were left behind. The dragons allowed nothing else to live, but that time was long behind us. Today the valley was lush and vibrant, and many living creatures thrived there. Strangely enough, no dragon bones or skulls were ever found, which is why most people in our Kingdom did not believe that the dragons had ever even existed. It was as if they all had simply vanished. I was one of the few who believed in their existence. Anything was possible.
By Felicia W4 years ago in Fiction
Just Another Shadow
There weren't always dragons in the Valley. But now there were seven. Alearia was supposed to be filling the front courtyard with blooming vines of lyrwina as a gift from the Ilari to the king as was customary when visiting royalty. Instead, she was hiding behind a shrub of currently-unadorned asmeaf at the opposite side of the yard, peering through the foliage at the resplendent colors of dragonscales.
By McKagan Nikki4 years ago in Fiction
Sāwol Etera
There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. But half-bloods, the disgraceful byproducts of the beasts and their human mistresses, sometimes slipped through the net.
By Elaine Gao4 years ago in Fiction
Dragonspine
In the beginning, the Valley of Myl was a desert of dust and rocks, devoid of all life, plagued by hostile scorching winds. No flower ever blossomed on our Home-isle, no fruit ever hung from the trees, because there was no water in the ground, nothing to nurture roots and leaves. There was only fire and stone. And the Valley wasn’t yet known as Myl, because Myl was the name of the flying mountain upon which came the first Dragons, our Greatfa’s. One day a shadow appeared in the sky, a speck where the blue grew darker every minute, until it obscured the Star and the Eyes of the Ancestors opened up as if it was already dreamtime. The shadow was a piece of the Isle of the mighty Dragons, far beyond the void whence they came. They rode upon it, their wings of lightning woven into a thick web, helping them defeat the Pull of the Underworld. Their scales moved across their skin and down their tails like gears of a large machine. Beneath it, the Greatfa’s harbored seeds, protected like precious embryos by metal and pure cold Flamelight. Their crystal voices resounded like bells in a vast cave as they sang a poignant song that shook the lands below and blew away the fire. They were singing because they carried a gift. A gift of life.
By Edoardo Segato-Figueroa4 years ago in Fiction
Scarlet Skies
There weren’t always dragons in the valley, that is, until there were. It’s strange how things like that happen. One minute, something’s there and then it isn’t, or in this case, the opposite may occur. One day, a normal day, dragons aren’t real, they’re mythical beasts mentioned only in the tallest of tales. Legends of swords and castles, knights and duels, heroes and villains. Battles to the death.
By Amber Snow4 years ago in Fiction