Fantasy

The Thunder Valley Guided Dragon Slaying Experience
There weren't always dragons in the Valley. And that was a big problem for my family business. No matter how many disclaimers and money-back guarantees we put in our advertisements and brochures, when a portal tourist from one of the other Worlds paid upwards of 500 gold pieces for a guided dragon hunt, they expected to at least see a dragon.
By Ben Henley4 years ago in Fiction
The Rendering
There weren't always dragons in the Valley. They came with The Rendering, when the sky tore open and the world was redrawn, dragons clawing through the tear in the sky like hungry urchins squeezing through the cracks in the wall at the soup kitchen, looking to grab a free meal behind the Guardian's backs before the food ran out. The Rendering had been before Marius had first drawn breath, but not so long the old timers did not still marvel at the new reality of scaly, clawed monsters sailing through the scarred heavens above them.
By Willow Faire4 years ago in Fiction
The Arch-child
“There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. Once it was ruled by Fae, beautiful and winged and filled with golden power.”
By Sheila Marie4 years ago in Fiction
Hunted
There weren't always Dragons in the valley. That was a simpler time, A safer time. -------------------- His breath came in ragged, stabbing bursts, and his lungs burned with every step. The undergrowth rustled around his feet and occasionally snagging on the hem of his robes. His spindly legs pumped as he navigated through the trees.
By Luke Foster4 years ago in Fiction
The Infestation
There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. That was before the pain. Before the terror. Before the bloodshed. Hayden stirred from his mat, woken by the scarlet-tinged light that shone through a crack in his old wooden shack. He woke up this morning angry, just like every morning. The light was irritating and upset him more and more as its glare was consistently the first thing he saw at the start of every day for the last three years. He groaned and shielded his eyes with his weathered, cloth covered right hand.
By Will Cain4 years ago in Fiction
Scales of Time
There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. The Valley used to be ethereal. Mountains of naked rock on either side of the river banks would catch the rays of golden sunlight every dusk and every dawn. The river Galdr would never stop moving, the pulses of water on the riverside becoming the familiar heartbeat of every new person born to the valley. Everyone born on our land is blessed, my mother used to say. Everyone born to the sound of the Valley has Galdr flowing through their veins.
By Luna Ali4 years ago in Fiction
Discovery.
Discovery: Planet 5795S ‘There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. I told you they only appeared after we landed on that planet.’ That young man you see sitting there in the center of this tribunal court room is the sole survivor of the United Systems Army vessel The Atlanta. 57 days ago, The Atlanta was forced to take an alternate route back to earth which took it through a small uncharted system just past Alpha Centauri. This is the report given by the sole survivor First officer Demond Wingfield, Second in command to Captain Chanee’ Sanders.
By SanQuentez (iQ) Wingfield4 years ago in Fiction
The Last Witness
There weren’t always dragons in the Valley, but all sanctuaries must fail as the end draws near. I told the guard as much when he shared the news with me.
By Bryan E Rye4 years ago in Fiction
Caught in the clouds
“There weren’t always dragons in the valley. This is a tale as old as the gold the dragon holds.” The old man said. “Peter, do you know why that valley is named Goldy pond?”
By Kane Richards4 years ago in Fiction
Hubris and flame
“There weren’t always dragons in the valley.” The old man muttered to Hektor. Hektor shrugged at him. Who cares? All that matters is that there are dragons now. Ten tons of flame breathing nightmare that can fly. The fact that humanity’s biggest problem was entirely their own fault is neither here or there. No one thinks oh, the irony, as the flesh melts off their bones, or they get thrown from ten thousand feet to the uncaring ground below, or stomped on and turned into human hamburger patty or macerated alive. Caveman nightmare 101. Imagine if you could go back in time and tell those proto-humans clustered in their caves around their fires, good news! Your descendants will have the technology to colonise other worlds, but colonising other worlds is hard. No one wants to spend years in cryostasis, then spend their life mining bauxite if they don’t die from a variety of agonising and frequently embarrassing ways. So, some billionaire had the bright idea to make attractions. Then he had the equally bright idea to make dragons. Proper dragons. That was all good, until he bought cheap real estate to build a dragon zoo and breeding laboratory. He didn’t decide to question why the land was cheap, and the people selling the land decided not to raise an objection to building a zoo on tectonically unstable land. Guess what happened, oh smelly ones. Please stop hitting me with your club.
By Edmund Bowyer4 years ago in Fiction
The Dragons of Kanta Valley
There weren’t always dragons in the valley, but some people used to say it was chaos before the dragons appeared. Man fighting man. Bloody battles for territory. Then the dragons awoke but some kings saw them as monsters and attacked. The dragon’s scales were impenetrable against all attacks, so it forced the king’s to retreat. That was a few hundred years ago. Now no kings rule and the people of Kanta live isolated in their valley but are perfectly happy with it . My name is Monica Fern Krimsom. I am fourteen and right now me and my best friend Rebecca Oak Peterson are listening to the oldest elder and retired farmer Karson Nick
By Meela Ward4 years ago in Fiction
Hearts of the Hunted
“There weren’t always dragons in the Valley.” Adrian’s voice curled around the tips of her ears, his hot breath branding her skin, lips dangerously close to making contact. He straightened up, towering over. He squeezed her wrist between his index finger and thumb, turning her palm upward and pressing a large golden coin in the center. For dinner. Adrian’s pale skin was a stark contrast against her own dark tone. He folded her fingers gently until they covered the coin. The touch was soft, kind, and left her skin yearning for more contact, more warmth. Jayda resisted the urge to roll her eyes at her own stupidity. Once upon a time she thought differently of those dull eyes, of that thin-lipped smirk, of that look that could cut glass but somehow always softened around her- still softened around her.
By Aima Bhatti4 years ago in Fiction