Fantasy
The Art of Gods
There weren't always dragons in the Valley. My grandmother claimed her grandmother heard it from a traveling crumhorn peddler that once passed through our village. He told anyone that would listen that the Valley used to be full of wee, gentle folk that lived in giant, carved-out melons … until they didn't.
By George Michael Christian4 years ago in Fiction
Dragons and Mantises
There weren’t always dragons in the valley. In fact, they’ve only started spending time there in the past couple of centuries. I miss the valley, especially the music of their voices. Did you know they have four voice boxes? One in either nostril, the usual one in the throat, and one where the nostrils join the windpipe. Maybe I should move back to the valley, although such a journey might not be good for someone of my age.
By Parker Wiltrout4 years ago in Fiction
To Own a Thought
There weren't always Dragons in the Valley. It was the damn Dwarves. They started to dig. They found rare gems. The Dwarves worked the stones, so the light flashed from their very hearts. Their beauty was captivating, but that was just the start. They dug deeper.
By Mark Stigers 4 years ago in Fiction
Children of the Swamp Witch
There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. Tarlon leaned against a tree, gasping for breath. But there have always been wolves. The dragons had only appeared two winters earlier, the same winter that the witches had been rounded up, tried, and executed, because many people claimed there was a link between witchcraft and the dragons.
By Diana Joyner4 years ago in Fiction
Scales and Talons
There weren't always dragons in the Valley. They came hunting the carrion that preceded them. Rodents and crows, followed by wolf, wildcat and other vermin. None of us lived from before the onslaught before the air lay deep in smoke. Before the poison turned even the timid to thoughts of violent mutiny.
By David Quast4 years ago in Fiction
The Assassin's Promise
There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. Any self-respecting dragon usually gave the area a wide berth, tainted as it was by its association with George the Dragon-Slayer. The very mention of the Valley of Silene was enough to strike dread into the heart of the fiercest dragon. We only spoke of it when absolutely necessary, and even then, in a low voice, as if uttering its name could bring a curse down upon us. Silene was the heart of the Shadowlands, a place of violence against the innocent. A place of betrayal and of blood.
By Holly Moeller4 years ago in Fiction
