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The Dragon King of the Valley

Ymoog, the dragon king of the Kingdom of the Valley has all that his heart desires apart from happiness. In this fantasy prologue for the Vocal Challenge, Ymoog flies up to the Ivey mountains to visit his dead parents.

By Chloe GilholyPublished 2 years ago 4 min read
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The Dragon King of the Valley
Photo by Ravit Sages on Unsplash

There weren’t always dragons on the Valley. Long before dragons ruled the kingdom, the monarchy consisted of dinosaurs. The Valley was split into two districts; the Fairy Provinces and the Volcanic State.

The Fairy Provinces were a tourist hotspot for many who lived outside the valley. The Volcano State was only accessible to those with wings, and those willing to face death for a social media post.

The Valley was famous for it surplus crops and enchanted forests and beaches. Many dragons enjoyed drinking volcanic lava with a couple of olives and a shot of whiskey. The south of the Valley even had volcanic wine to sell to tourists.

Dinosaurs were long since extinct, but their spirit and legacy moved on. Many dragons of the modern age were inspired by the myths and tales of ferroucous dinosaurs. When they say they knew about the time of the dinosaurs, but they only knew how they died. Through valiant books and majestic theatres, the Valley residents got to know how the dinosaurs lived. The Valley took pride in its ecodiverse history, and the preservation of dinosaur bones.

The Valley Throne, occupied by Ymoog of Solak, was made out of the bones of the last dinosaur king. Ymoog was detested by all, apart from the wealthy that paid no tax. Although opinions of Ymoog were low, there were street parties every Draconianday, which was the eight day of the week. Ymoog also hosted plant-based feasts on veganday, the second day of the week. His majesty, the king found that having plant-based feasts prevented riots. He sneered at the slabs of tofu on the vegan feast tables, but he admired the pearl-like shine. Tofu could be seen as a symbol of purity, something that King Ymoog lacked. Ymoog knew he couldn’t please everybody, but he never bothered trying. He knew that would have been impossible even with all the magic in the world. Scholars claimed King Ymoog was the most magical dragon king in the the world, but he knew it couldn’t be true. The scholars were telling hill what he wanted to hear so they could keep their heads.

Gliding to top of Mt. Ijuf, the highest mountain of the Valley, he flies towards the glacier peaks. Ymoog’s shadow above the snow was lighter in comparison to his purple and gold scales. He dashed through the pillars, then stopped in front of two dead dragons twice his height and weight. They were his parents. There were spots of decay on the top of their wings and their eyes had disintergrated over the decades, but their corpses were preserved by eternal winters from Mt.Ijuf. Hailstorms were stronger than sunlight the mountains that bordered the two districts of the Valley. It was his father that chose to name the country as The Kingdom of the Valley. Others simply refer it as the Valley nowadays.

Flakes of ice flew from Ymoog’s eyes. He kept himself away from the ground, for he could not stand the snow getting into his claws. He only came here just to see his parents. It was as if they were only sleeping. If they could wake up, would they be proud of him? Ymoog hoped they would be proud to see their eldest son take back the throne by force. Of course there were some regrets such as the public execution of Lord Etinogard, but it was for the good of the Valley.

“Mother…Father…if the legend is true that you spend your afterlife protecting the lost one’s that dare climb these mountains, can you help me find a purpose in this life. I rule the Valley with an iron fist, I have a surplus of heirs, wives, lovers, money, I win wars all the time, and a I also own many more prosperous states beyond the valley, but yet I am not happy. What can I do to achieve happiness in my soul?”

Ymoog cuddled up to his parents, imagining the warmth from them before they died. He kissed his mother’s cheek, then did the same to his father’s hand. He brushed the climbs of snow off their faces before giving them another tearful farewell.

Ymoog widened his wings and soared back to his castle. The spot where his dears dropped had melted let out a glittery aura. When the aura faded, the two corpses turned to gold.

Fantasy
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About the Creator

Chloe Gilholy

Former healthcare worker and lab worker from Oxfordshire. Author of ten books including Drinking Poetry and Game of Mass Destruction. Travelled to over 20 countries.

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