Fantasy
Contrition
There weren’t always dragons in the valley. Or so it was thought. It was all too easy for the humans to believe in the creatures’ mystical and prompt occurrence. The truth, however, was far more plausible. Dragons had been in the world, originated in that very valley to be precise, long before any human stumbled out of its anthropoidal subsistence to pull a sword out of a rock and claim king. All it took were a few rogue, lizard-breathed halfwits to reveal the long-standing sequestered knowledge of the dragons’ existence. And for what? To prove the superiority of their race? To see the look of horror in the inferiors’ eyes as they burned villages, citadels, their children’s souls? Any simpleton could see these truths without the carnage and vanity. But alas, not even dragons are created equally. This, she knew without question. For it wasn’t long before a war between the two alpha predators erupted. Sure, it went well for the dragons in the beginning, but raining hellfire on unsuspecting villages can only accomplish so much. Humans adapt. They rally. They get angry. They learn an enemy's weakness and exploit it. They reproduce at an unparalleled rate, and it didn’t take much longer than a decade for the tides to turn - to watch the cockroaches infest the dragons’ caves, woods, even the mountains.
By Cheyenne Cairns 4 years ago in Fiction
Faith and Nine
There weren't always dragons in the Valley. Only the backbreaking affliction of slavery. Day in and day out, our pickaxes clanged, their sounds competing for dominance with the languid grunts of the men, women, and children who swung them. Our people worked from sunup to sunset, gathering stones and gems, braving rockslides, and unceremoniously dumping our haul into carts, all in our service of the Darnal, our oppressors. All in the shadows of our taskmasters and their vile pets, the nedulsa.
By Ashley Netten4 years ago in Fiction
The Third Valley
“There weren’t always dragons in the Valley.” “T’weren't always a valley,” Gerald replied. He smirked, looking to Langdon lying prone in the grass at his side for validation. Langdon’s grey eyes continued to survey the flat land below. He was in no mood to get philosophical. He raised an eyebrow and dipped his eyelids. Gerald accepted it as a concession. It was about as much of one as he could expect from Langdon.
By Adam Patrick4 years ago in Fiction
The Dragons Watching Over Us
Chapter I: Our Time Has Come There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. It was a sign of the times, unfortunately. At least we had someone on our side to protect us from the blatant attempt of a government takeover that this country had been facing. We desperately needed a group like The Dragons, made up by the citizens; for the citizens. They could be compared to the American soldiers in Germany during World War II, except all civilians. Civilians who were going against our own government in order to protect our individual rights.
By Sharon Smith4 years ago in Fiction
Walkers: Chasing Smoke
“There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. We used to live down thereafter all.” An elderly male stated as he peered at his fully captivated audience of about twelve youngins aged from four to seven years old. A little down the main pathway though, stood a young boy. He was definitely older then the oldest in the old mans’ story telling circle, but not an adult yet… He was only thirteen, next year though he would be considered a full fledged adult. Ether way, the young soon-to-be man stood within earshot of the story that was being told. He knew the story very well, but didn’t believe it himself. Dragons weren’t real. It was as simple as that really, but still he listened in from a distance.
By Anthony Frederiksson4 years ago in Fiction
