Fantasy
Destroyer of Warmbloods
There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. Greeog the Terrible, Destroyer of Warmbloods, issued a stream of white-hot flame from between his curved fangs. Less than a snout’s length away, the bars of his cell glowed amber with the heat. The bars were thicker by half than Greeog’s foreleg, and he had only a few more heartbeats between Varaya’s next looping stroll past the prisoners. If she saw the damage on the bars, Greeog would be forced into a new cage again. He’d have to start formulating yet another scheme to escape, which would throw all of his plans off kilter. He might be a bringer of chaos, only barely shy of being a very god of flame, but he grew quite displeased when his plots were interrupted. Varaya and her ilk owned every dragon in the Evey Valley. For now.
By Brynne Nelson4 years ago in Fiction
Shattered Stars
There weren’t always dragons in the valley… but there were always flowers. I walked throughout a meadow- and basked in the glory that surrounded me… far ahead of me, the trees split the sky and the field I stood in. The sky was completely clear- almost uncomfortably so. Flowers filled the grass at my feet, and I joyfully laid in them. Nature was one of the things I loved so much- an endless paradise surrounded me, and too did a feeling of euphoria- far from unusual, but in this case it was almost suspiciously so. A soft breeze started enveloping the area. My eyes opened back up at this, and I sat up glancing to where the wind blew… “Wind?”
By Gabriel Walden4 years ago in Fiction
Herrinon
There weren’t always dragons in the valley. There weren’t always people in the valley, either, but how drastically things can change over time. Several hundred years ago, a small group traveled to the northern peninsula and stuck their swords into the land. There were some hot days and some harsh winter nights. Many died, but over time a Kingdom rose from the ground becoming the wealthiest region in the world. Eventually, other territories, communities, and kingdoms were built, but none were as prosperous as Herrinon.
By Marc Quaranta4 years ago in Fiction
Survive Where Survival Is Key
“There weren’t always dragons in the valley. At least, not until the rings broke out.” Each time Shawn Aerelynn started this section, he groaned mentally. There were expectant eyes watching from his classroom as he recounted the local tale. Each kid’s face looked washed of the normal inattentive façade as something more interesting came along. Heads leaned forward as if trying to see the internal movie on page as the tale unfolded.
By Bianca Hubbard4 years ago in Fiction
Never take a baby dragon to a reggae concert
There weren't always dragons in the Valley deep in the Blue Mountains of Jamaica. Tonight up at the Marijuana Resort Lodge many bands were in competition for first prize of a loan of a baby dragon. They had come from far and wide just to jam with Ocean the baby dragon.
By Novel Allen4 years ago in Fiction
The Old Man of the Celestial Court
There weren't always dragons in the Valley. But little Susie needed a new toy, so, as it was written in the opening words of one of the many holy books the humans had come up with in order to explain the batshit place they lived in, “It had to happen.” There weren’t always unicorns, either; it had to happen. There weren’t always manticores, jellyfish, dogs, rats, lions, cows, scorpions, whales, snails, or anything else in the Valley, really. All of it had come from the insistence of little Susie. Humanity itself had at one time been the answer to one of Susie’s demands to her father, the god of creation: “I want a creature that looks like a god but thinks like a baby all the days of its life.”
By Kathryn Carson4 years ago in Fiction
The God of the Valley
There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. For a time, there was only war. Ruo Zhi huddled closer to his mother, fingers curling into a tight fist in her robes. When he was a mere babe in his home village, he could not differentiate what was peace, and what was chaos. All he knew was this: he was hungry, he was thirsty, he was tired, or he was all three.
By andy lilies4 years ago in Fiction
