Fantasy
Kahale And The Moʻo Warrior
There weren’t always dragons in the valley. At least, thatʻs what my grandmother always told me. In fact, I don’t think you could even call them dragons. Dragons were awesome, these were not. My grandma called them moʻo, mythical Hawaiian lizards that protected fresh water ponds throughout the islands. She said that they pulled men underwater, never to be seen again.
By Keolamaupono Sagario4 years ago in Fiction
Gaia's Dance
The weakening light was the only witness to her mourning. Amid the stone giants, pregnant with loss and life, she sang her grief to the howling wind. She aged as she sang, each note adding years; ever-changing, eternal. Once her grief was spent she turned away from the circle and picked her way toward the beach below. Her dress snagged on the rocks as she gave her attention solely to placing her bare feet. Barely discernable in the twilight each black thread led towards deeper darkness.
By J.K. Wehlow4 years ago in Fiction
THE REMINISCENCE OF SERENDIPITY
There weren't always dragons in the Valley. Long before the Dhyanians settled here, the Dragons were in abundance throughout the beautiful, luscious lands of Luminescence. Dragons and Originals lived in reciprocity and existed harmoniously for millennia of celestial moons.
By Tanya Kwirky Kirkegaard4 years ago in Fiction
The Sunder King
There weren’t always dragons in the valley, but do not be mistaken, there has always been dragons. Tales of large, winged beasts flying overhead, burning, disintegrating, poisoning and freezing their enemy’s; collecting hordes of treasure as their trophies. No one knows how dragons came to be, all that they know is dragons are.
By Brody Hunter4 years ago in Fiction
Tower of Babel
Prologue There weren't always Dragons in the Valley. Master Jethro thought to himself as he stared at the flying creatures. He could see their majestic body all the way from where he sat. Beautiful creatures...beautiful and dangerous. The old man turned his wheelchair towards the children in the yard playing the local game known as rocks and paper. It had been two years since he got the Orphanage running again. He had repaired the building of the former Atwell Orphanage and had resumed its operations, and now he had kids that he was responsible for. He was under a patio beneath the midnight sky, the hot air of Pele city had cooled down. He felt a calmness watching the kids, a calmness that he hadn't felt for the past hundred years. He still had nightmares, dreams of the past wars that had raged on beyond this world, a war that had threatened everything he held dear to him. Years had passed, the threats were gone, peace reigning once more, and yet he was still scarred from it. His hand went down to his legs, legs that he would never be able to use again. He had made sacrifices, choices that no one should ever have to. There were times that he still wondered if he had made the right choice, but looking down at the children before him, their smiles made him feel good. One of the children ran up to him, jumping on one of the vacant seats. She picked up one of the Jambia juice from the table that he had prepared for the kids.
By C.J.Legens4 years ago in Fiction
"One Day..."
There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. Time had worked its patient magic, and their presence was now familiar, but all ached for the day they could return to their home in the far east. Even after generations, the villages around the Valley carry a fog of uneasiness towards the Valley.
By Morgan Polite Woolf4 years ago in Fiction
THE PLAN
There weren't always dragons in the Valley. However, since the beginning of time, the Komoto dragons resided on Anu Mountain in Indonesia. At least, that's what the villagers believed and thought. Often, the villagers exaggerated and voiced their stories about the Komoto dragons and the tigers.
By Babs Iverson4 years ago in Fiction
Jory and the Magic Seed
Jory and the Magic Seed “There weren’t always dragons in the Valley…,” the minstrel sang from the small stage. He was performing at the Red Rooster Tavern, one of five taverns in the town of Flunderhill. The Rooster was crowded! It was a weekend night, so the Rooster was featuring live music, and the drinks were flowing freely. The song, titled Jory and the Magic Seed, was a crowd favorite, and the minstrel was really getting into it. The song explained how Jory Tannerson had found the magic seed and planted the dragon tree that lured dozens of dragons to the valley right outside of Flunderhill. This of course made Jory the most disliked person in the whole town, even though everyone loved the song.
By Brian Cochran4 years ago in Fiction
Raising Victory
There weren't always dragons in the valley. In fact, once they had never existed at all. On a clear night, with no moon and thousands of stars hanging in the heavens, the outline of a person could be seen as he walked to the edge of a cliff. As he sat down, a gust of wind caused him to shiver and hug his arms to his chest.
By Matt Bryan4 years ago in Fiction
The Timeless Reach
There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. But twenty years ago, the nightclub on 32nd street had become their den without the consent, or appreciation, of the club’s owner. There was only one rule, and it was written in faded blocky letters on neon green poster board: no shifting into dragon form while in The Valley. The two-story space could easily fit a football field and would accommodate their twenty-foot wingspan, but where one dragon shifted, too many others were sure to follow and only bloodshed would ensue. The Valley was the one place where dragon factions and politics were set aside, and so they obeyed the rule if only to drink in peace. Tonight, the club was pulsing with electronica, and Shayon the Wicked of the Firegarde clan was nursing a whiskey and sporting a black eye. The strobing lights and pervasive smell of sweat and too much perfume was giving him a headache.
By Breanne Randall4 years ago in Fiction
