Fable
Unfamiliar
Clementine watched eagerly as her mother placed more logs onto the growing pile for the evening’s bonfire. Tonight, will be the night, she just knew it. For as long as anyone could remember, witches and warlocks on their sixth year of celebrating Beltane, receive the gift of their Familiar from the forest. This year was Clementine’s turn.
By Bianca Pole3 years ago in Fiction
The Scaled Child
The child showed no fear as the shadow passed over it, cut through low hung clouds and returned to engulf this frail body in ultimate darkness. Indeed, the child merely reached out towards the leathery wings, the sharpened talons, the heat expelling from the nostrils. Sometimes the prey doesn't recognize the predator and this seemed to vex the dragon. It stood upright and beat heavy wings until the branches shuddered and the leaves fell. The child rolled backwards and came up laughing. The dragon, becoming enraged, tested it further, bringing one great golden eye within orbit of the child's face, blinking slowly until the lizard like iris revealed vague eons of a dominant species. The child merely saw itself in that domed reflection and smiled. The dragon sniffed at it to which the child let out a great sneeze, sending a gout of snot across the dragon's scales. It recoiled in disgust. It could eat this thing here and now and be done with it. It had done far worse for lesser transgressions. Yet something about this child made it appear bigger than the mere morsel it might offer the beast. It brought a claw down around the child, three talons encasing it like a prison cage. Then, careful not to tear the precious flesh of the babe, it scooped it up, clumps of earth and all and carried it through the air towards a cave in the distance. What sounds the child could be heard to make seemed almost joyous in nature.
By Kincaid Jenkins3 years ago in Fiction
Tears
Tears flowed down from swelling eyes, watering the silver grass that flooded the ancient forest like a hidden ocean. The celestial kingdom of stars gazed down from space to admire its own reflection and to observe as the fates that they wrote unfold into their grand design. All the light from heaven above and from the glassy mirror of grass below shown upon the lone child, bare of any clothes and shining as a goddess of light. One more pair of eyes looked upon the little one, first with a spell of deep dark hate, but the softness of the helpless girl and the beaming light radiating from her body broke through the dark and lit a spark in his heart. And then the tears flowed down from the dragon’s serpentine eyes. No dragon had ever cried before. And no dragon would ever shed a tear again.
By Reagan Parker3 years ago in Fiction
The Planet of Panoras
Dear Sally, I'm writing from the small village of Trok in between the Elijah River and Lake Elizabeth. The river used to flow around the bend into the neighboring town, but the beavers dammed it up and now the only way to go anywhere is to sail to the estuary where Elijah meets the long, long river called Bagulph. What a weird name right? Bagulph? Where did they come up with that? It makes me laugh. Most of these townspeople have their own little boats, but of course I haven't learned how to make my own boat and I can't affod to buy the kind that they will allow me to go on the river with. So I'm somewhat trapped in this tiny hut and the weather has been cruel also.
By Shanon Angermeyer Norman3 years ago in Fiction
