Fantasy
Into the Valley
There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. In fact, the Valley hadn’t always been the Valley. It had once been the southern cape of Viol Four, a world overwhelmed with lush, verdant landscapes, snow-capped mesas, and a purple-blue sea that wrapped two-thirds of the planet. Then a colony had found Opalex in the caves off the cape, and Respublica had shown up with their mining fleet, stripping Viol Four of the precious mineral, shredding the tip of the forested cape down fifty miles below the surface, leaving the Valley. Her jagged schorl cliffs ran fifteen miles long, terminating to the north and south in magnificent waterfalls, from which the oceans fell and fell to the sizzling black stones of the planet’s mantle on the Valley floor. At eight miles wide, the Valley was hot, humid, and bleak, inhospitable for all but the hardiest creatures.
By mave jensen4 years ago in Fiction
Dragons in the Valley
There weren’t always dragons in the valley. But the idea of them was always there. The inflatable dragon that rose up above the sea of cars in the used car dealership, the animatronic dragon that reared up as customers entered the arcade, the dragon mascot at all the High School events. Even the Red Dragon diner with its dragon-themed specials field by Sal’s seemingly endless well of dragon-themed puns.
By Wren Forrester4 years ago in Fiction
Salt and Power
There weren't always dragons in the valley... "...But then, there was not always a valley! You see, the lands on which we live have shifted and changed for thousands of years, molding the landscape that we now call home." Mr. Porter had given this speech many, many times before. Now in his 50s, he had taught at The Centrus Academy for the last 30 years, and at the start of each one, it was his duty to ensure that the young pupils understood how the world came to be as it is, and the geographic importance of the land that they were in. Extending his hand to a map of the world, he pointed towards the largest landmass that occupied the centre. "We are here, on the island that we call Centrus. At the centre of the world, we enjoy the benefits of a temperate climate, predictable seasons, and convenient routes to each of the other continents by sea." He gazed out at the crowd and was rewarded for his efforts thus far by an ocean of blank, bored stares. All of the pupils had no doubt heard this kind of lesson before, but it was of critical importance that they understood what set them aside from the other regions of the world, and how lucky they were to find themselves here.
By Daniel Speirs4 years ago in Fiction
The Last of the Dragons
There weren’t always Dragons in the valley. After all, there was very little reason for us to visit this particular valley. It was small, set deep in a great mountain range, and rendered inaccessible to any creatures incapable of flight by the sheer surrounding cliffs. There was a cold river fed by underground springs that thickened to a torrent from the snowmelt in the fall. There was a scattering of trees and smaller plants, but no prey for us to hunt and few places for us to land. Some quirk of nature meant that gray clouds frequently hung heavy and low in the valley, shrouding it from view in a depressing, overcast fog. Once upon a time, we soared proudly amongst the peaks where we nested and we hunted the great herds of buffalo who roamed over the rolling plains to the southeast. Why would we descend to this small, remote valley when we roamed free across the entirety of the world?
By David Kaplan4 years ago in Fiction
The Way We Rode
Aran There weren’t always dragons in the Valley, but it was now stuffed to the brim with them. Winged creatures of all sizes and colours, flying in an invisible prison. Trapped behind The Barrier and forsaken to pay for atrocities committed in the past. Forsaken to birth and slaughter one another to stay alive.
By Alexandru Nornguard4 years ago in Fiction
Randall's Crash
“There weren't always dragons in the Valley.” Randall put the book that he was reading down and sighed. His commute through the valley from one city to another really bummed him out sometimes. Usually reading fantasy books helped him out of his funk, but today it was a reminder that this valley would never have dragons in it. Randall reached his stop and got out of the train. Mounted on his bike, he was ready for the last stage of his long commute.
By Sean M Finney4 years ago in Fiction
Fallen Soul
There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. From where they came, no one knows. Why they came, no scholar can agree. Maybe for the food, perhaps for the climate. I don’t think we’ll ever know for certain. The one thing we do know for certain is that when the dragons did come, all sorts of others came too.
By Justin Andrews4 years ago in Fiction
The search for Bayla
Bayla There weren’t always dragons in the valley; the world used to be safe too. Now? Now the world is a wild place, trolls terrorizing villages. Forest creatures attack the merchants as they travel. I breathed in a calming breath banishing the dark thoughts. The flowers are in full bloom, the wonderful scents swept over me washing away the winter sorrows. I smiled with relief. Why couldn’t I do this every day? Surely there are healing powers in the wind, sky, and plants. The world is just so perfect and so peaceful. I danced through the meadow. Laughing to myself. Running my hands over the flower petals and their leaves. My hair pulling at my head trailing behind. The world is so magical. My foot touched something different.I looked down at my yellow shoes. I was standing on a flat stone. It didn’t feel right to me. The stone looked normal enough. I started searching, I don’t know what for but I could feel that there was something hiding here. There were more rocks smoothed out like stepping stones. I stood in the center looking down at them. It was a pattern where the stones are laid out in a specific way. I stood at the center lines of stone lead away stretching out in every direction. The wind dropped suddenly and the meadow was dead calm. I realized I was standing at the heart of the meadow. I was sure it was the exact center. How strange, I’ve been coming to this meadow for years and I never found this before. I reached down, touching the center stone. It was smooth but I pulled my hand away wincing. A drop of blood fell from my finger tip. dripping onto the smooth stone. I pulled out the offending thorn that had stuck me. I glanced at the rose bush nearby. Not a single flower was on it. I sighed, I'm making mountains out of shadows.
By Tiana Hall4 years ago in Fiction
