Fantasy
The Great Spring II
Flowers don't heal suffering any more than the rain can prevent a wildfire. Digging through a mottled corpse, mangled from anxieties and past memories made real by fear and brought back to life by shame and sorrow is not how I pictured my post pandemic life, and yet, here I am. Rebuilding pieces of what I thought was at one time a capable pile of bones.
By A.T. Baines4 years ago in Fiction
Dragon Speaker
There weren’t always Dragons in the Valley, or so the stories go. There wasn’t always fear and hatred so thick it was as if you walked through molasses everywhere you went. There weren’t always fires on the mountains, and missing live stock. There weren't always empty houses, and vacant eyed people. These are the stories the Elders love to tell, though to be honest I don’t think that they are even old enough to remember a time before.
By Diandra Daulton4 years ago in Fiction
The Shattered Sky
There weren’t always dragons in the valley. Just like the color green hadn’t always been forbidden, exploring the mountain sides wasn’t taboo, and questions weren’t punishable. The elders spoke of times before the shattering of the sky. In hushed tones they told of times when the skies were blue, the sun shone yellow, and the meadows of the valley were lush and green. A spring had babbled through the valley meadow bringing fresh mountain water to the sheep and people. They told of times the village was alive with noise and happiness; buzzing with idle chatter, laughter, and singing.
By Jenifer Majerus4 years ago in Fiction
From Blood To Ash
There weren't always dragons in the Valley. These mythical creatures drew their fiery breath in fairy tales written to entertain younglings. Like the Vegetable Lamb of Tartary and wraiths, it did not walk among mortals. Howbeit, when a soul does not find peace, it causes havoc.
By Zuleika Boekhoudt4 years ago in Fiction
Kingdoms Lost
There weren't always dragons in the valley. Janen ducked as the shadow passed over her, clutching Sorrel's reins. The mare skittered sideways off the road, but Janen's attention remained on the huge Blue heading towards the distant mountains. Her heart hammered in her chest. Not from fear. From excitement.
By Kirsten Ivatts4 years ago in Fiction
Stories of Dragons. Runner-Up in The Fantasy Prologue.
There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. For generations, parents had kept their children on a steady diet of horrifying stories featuring the flying beasts. They were the monsters at the edge of the night, the sharp-toothed consequences for young people who strayed from the wisdom of their elders. Naughty children get nipped, parents warned, and evil children get eaten.
By Addison Horner4 years ago in Fiction
The Grand Thread and the Gray Magi
Archibald Scrimshaw sat down upon a craggy gray boulder along the dirt road to Trent. He tossed his school satchel to one side and hugged his knees, waiting. Slowly the sun rose until the cool morning air burnt off, and feeling warm he removed his blazer. With his patience thinning, he let his fingers dig into the rock's crevices and chip away pebbles which he tossed lazily into the road.
By Alex Hanevich4 years ago in Fiction
The Soul of a Dragon
There weren't always dragons in the valley. Our small little village, perfectly secluded in what we always called "Deep Home", was too small and insignificant to attract the attention of anyone important or anything big enough to be a threat, including. Our village was just far enough away from everything. That meant we didn't have to worry about the strict policies of kings, or submit to the will of villainous lords, or even have to concern ourselves with defending from roaming raiding parties from long lost armies who's leaders had perished.
By Grant Barday4 years ago in Fiction
