Young Adult
The Silver Blood and the Last Dragon
It was a warm and starry night in the forest. The moon and stars were shining over the space between the pine trees like a light bulb, bringing all of the vegetation into the spotlight, for all to see. Only a light breeze was swimming along the trees and vegetation, as everything else stood still.
Pircalabu StefanPublished about a year ago in FictionWaiting Between Worlds
Taraji stared at the magnificent carving covered in vibrant paints of a dragon and a little Waif. The only illumination under cover of darkness inside the hollow musty space. The figures would slowly come to life, telling a story. The golden beast gawked at the child and then swallowed her gently. She slid down his rough tongue, plucking his serrated teeth like a harp. His entrails danced about as the little one giggled. Fire and blood rocked her back and forth; her ginger hair singed by the dragon's breath.
Aundriel WashingtonPublished about a year ago in FictionSpirit's Found
There had always been dragons in the valley… …at least, until the reign of Reginald Gunvald. The mighty dragons of the ancient land of Alicae were the guardians of the Calicor- the Heart of the Heavens. Not only did the heart protect the dragons and guard their territory, but its power served as a beacon for the dragons, giving each a piece of its power that allowed their spirits to become one.
Lizzy RosePublished about a year ago in FictionThe Greenwood Saga
She couldn't remember the first time she woke, in the Greenwood. The years had robbed her of those memories long ago, when her kind were young and naive. She was neither of those things anymore. The sun was warm and invigorating as it streamed through the canopy of leaves overhead. She could feel it warm her body in intermittent clusters of life across her serpentine form. She loved to bask in its warm rays in the clearing nearby on hot summer days like this one, but not today.
Kfa_WolfbanePublished about a year ago in FictionFool Proof
The vibrant green forest was quiet. Too quiet for an Anoxiver morning when life was supposed to be in renewal, and quieter than it was yesterday. Éimhím trudged onwards, unsettled. His pastel, deep lime green scales with their rich pink undertones, bristled. It shouldn’t have been so quiet, especially not during the yearly two-week eclipse. He had gone years and years seeing it all over the world, and it was never this quiet even in the calmest of places, let alone here, the most dangerous region during the lightlessness.
Mychaila A. RosePublished about a year ago in FictionOur shadow's secrets
The feeling of falling back into my body startled me awake. This constant nightmare has become a strange comfort these past few years. Better than reliving the night that I lost everything over and over again.
Lucy TorralbaPublished about a year ago in FictionGully
With a tattered towel Belinda dried a terra cotta mug, then lifted herself up onto her tiptoes and reached overhead to hang the mug from a row of hooks above the bar. Directly ahead, through cloudy windows framed in warping wood, she watched the early evening sun high on the horizon. A quick rap of knuckles against the counter came from the end of the bar. Belinda turned her attention towards the sound, and the man motioned her over. In a hoarse voice, he said, “Fill ‘er ep, and gimme a bowl of whatever you got.”
A. CrossanPublished about a year ago in FictionTo Sleep In A Deep Sea Of Strange Clouds
To sleep in a deep sea of strange clouds, pulling on loud reefer. Tis would be lovely rem sleep, to sleep in a deep sea of strange clouds full of weed smoke of the loudest of the loud strain.
Angelina F. ThomasPublished about a year ago in FictionOpen Your Eyes
Something around you doesn’t want to be seen. I know your eyes won’t let you, but you have to pay attention. Look for a boarded up window that you somehow never noticed one of the boards is a little too new. Or maybe it’ll be a hidden alleyway conveniently placed in an overlapping gap between buildings. Even a manhole weirdly on the grass instead of in the road. Whatever it is for you, no matter how hard, I am begging you, look there.
Blake HoldenPublished about a year ago in FictionThe Dawn of Calamity
Of the many myths and legends throughout Fal’Ardin. There has only ever been one prophecy. It foretells two children, both lost souls and polar opposites. One is a little girl of pure heart and innocence, who will be raised and nurtured by a Dragon from the heavens. The other is a boy whose heart will be filled with hate and malice, who will be raised by a Dragon from the earth. One child is said to bring about peace, while the other will bring ruin. Said to awaken a Great Wyrm, the father of evil who breeds destruction. The prophecy foretells war, and that these two destined children will face each other.
Julio AguilarPublished about a year ago in FictionTales of the Dream
This tale was written by Silos Dimmas, the great chronicler, based on recollections of Balgur and Laylardeen after the Last Battle.
Pedro VelmovitskyPublished about a year ago in FictionGift
{Ravinn, One} Thud. A tremor laced the ground, heavy and powerful, enough to wake me from my dozing. I was turned on my side, curled and filthy, with tear stains streaked across my face. Hours upon hours of sobbing had reduced me to nothing more but the frightened infant I was, weak from my own cries.
Bridget CouturePublished about a year ago in Fiction