Awesome Competitions! Write a Story; Win Some Pets!!

[Ranger of the North]

Mark! This is gonna be so much fun ^.^ Haven't done any writing for a while so this'll be good practice!

Happy to have you!

[Ranger of the North]

[updated a short bit to the top of the first post — please read!]

[leiawolfe]

AAHHHHH I MUST GET BACK TO THIS STORY.
LIKE RIGHT NOW.
*logs off after posting this and switches from iPad to computer*

[Ranger of the North]

AAHHHHH I MUST GET BACK TO THIS STORY.
LIKE RIGHT NOW.
*logs off after posting this and switches from iPad to computer*

Hehehehe XD

[kiro,,]

https://www.quotev.com/story/10568361/Short-Stories

Done! I know its simple, and short, but I hope its good.

[sparrow;]

I actually wrote something, wow... it's not great, but I want to enter anyway c: Good luck everyone else!

xxThe bells were ringing again.
xxEmily and her family were outside, eating, so they could hear the loud tolling from a couple streets down. Her mother sighed - she hated having to leave the food out, in case someone came along while everyone else was hiding underground. It had happened many times - the poor would take the risk of heading out, and try to grab some food. Emily wasn't sure if she hated them or pitied them. Maybe both.
xxThey all walked out onto the street, joining the others families streaming towards the church. Some hurried along, glancing fearfully at the sky. Other wandered, spotting friends and calling out to each other.
xx"Hey there, Tom, how's your day been?"
xx"Evening, Mary. Third one this week - they're getting pretty active, eh?"
xxEmily's family was somewhere in between. Her father thought that the people should be less afraid. The chances of them getting killed were pretty low, it was far more likely that there'd just be damage to the streets. Her mother, meanwhile, though that the others were often far too casual about how much danger they were in.
xxThroughout the chatter one question was often repeated - "Where is it? Where's it come from? How close has it come?"
xxEmily rounded the corner, and the grand castle came into view. It was a huge creation of golden stone, glowing in the setting sun.
xxAnd there were the dragons.
xxPeople called out to eachother, pointed, gazed up at the creatures. No matter how many times Emily saw them, they always surprised her with their sheer size.
xx"Damn right," her brother grinned, "Kill the royals, not us."
xxEmily's brother, Daniel, was one of the many young men in the town who despised royalty. He often talked about rioting and attacking the castle, although she was pretty sure it was all talk. He wasn't stupid enough to try anything too dangerous. She hoped.
xx"Quiet," hissed her mother, "We don't want anyone to die."
xxDaniel rolled his eyes, but stopped talking. The four of them walked down the stone steps next to the church, which lead to a small underground area where they'd be safe. The dragons often destroyed buildings, not even realizing what they were doing. Humans were merely insignificant bugs to them, something annoying that should be ignored.
xx"There were two of them this time," Emily said to her father. "One of those white ones that usually some, and a red one. Were you able to see why?"
xxHer father shook his head. "Go up and check it out," he suggested. There were a few small lookouts people could climb up - they had a good view in all directions, so anyone who was watching the dragons could jump down quickly if they came too close. They were usually used by little kids, but a few adults were watching from them now too. Emily walked to the nearest one and clambered up the ladder.
xxThey were fighting. It was far away, but she could see well enough for that. The castle was beginning to crumble in places as it was smashed by their massive tail. She could hear their cries, too - one of them sounding like roaring winds, and the other was like thunder. The sounds of a storm, on a still summer evening.
xxThey fought for over an hour. Emily climbed up to watch every now and again, but she could always hear their roars. The bells were still ringing loudly, too - usually dragons only passed over and were gone in ten or so minutes, so the bells were continuous. This time, however, they were staying. Emily's town had been chosen as a battleground and no human was strong enough to do anything about it.
xxSome of the little children were yelling and crying. It was late, and loud, and they were hungry. A few of them sounded loud enough to be the dragons.
xxFinally, someone cried out, "They're going!" Emily scrambled to the lookouts, wanting to watch them for herself. She was faster than some and nimbler than others, so she managed to get to one in time to see the great red dragon flying off. The white one watched for a few minutes - clearly, it had been the victor. As the red rose above the clouds, it left as well.
xxThe bells stopped their ringing.

[BucketORandomness]

So, turns out my story idea is gonna be way longer than the upper limit >.< I can't enter it, but I'll still link it once I've finished if others are interested. I've done all the planning bits, but only recently started writing, so it won't even be ready in time for the contest. It's gonna go up on my personal writing thread either way.

[leiawolfe]

Sorry for the length C': I hope you enjoy


-1000 years ago-


It the was crack of dawn, the sun slowly reaching up to the sky. Somewhere in the distance, three dragon eggs wriggled. One in the sand; one in the forest; and one in the snow. So close, yet so far away from each other.
The eldest, the egg in the snow, started cracking. The muzzle inside pushed, harder and harder through the robust shell. But something was wrong. It was in the wrong place. His mother had failed. For a dragon to hatch it must be in the centre of the environment it is in. He couldn't do it. The shell was too tough, no sun had softened it. And the dragonet inside was too weak.

In the shifting sands, a breeze started to form. In the evenings the creatures started to scuttle away, leaving the egg to hatch on its own. And this one was strong. As soon as the last drop of sun drained out, he hurled his muzzle into the shell, breaking through it with ease. His scales were crimson-red and his eyes the colour of burning saffron. Yes. He had the raw strength to demolish an entire kingdom.

Leaves around the crystal-clear egg rustled as the moonlight settled onto it. She knew it was time. But she wondered if she should wait longer. Then, maybe, she could be the most powerful dragon ever to have existed. Hmm. She put these thoughts away and decided to get to work. Maybe if she clawed at the shell? She tried. Not a scratch. She pushed and nudged the shell for a few moments, until, finally, the egg started to crack. Now it got easier. She did the same thing, over and over again, and eventually, she emerged. Her scales were like the moonlight colouring the little dragon, and her eyes resembled the trees and bushes around her.


-13 years ago-


The little princess scurried around the castle, trying for the fiftieth time to leave the dinner table without finishing her broccoli. "Melina!" she could hear her father's voice as guards hurried down the stairs. Guards? she thought. Her father took everything seriously. He was no fun. No fun at all. She managed to get through the castle gates, into the woods. She had a secret hideout there. It was a huge tree hollow, on the far end of the castle. Now she could hear her father again, talking to some passing stranger. "The princess?" he said, sounding worried. "Erm, what does she look like, I might have seen her."
The girl winced. No!

"Blonde hair, blue dress... she's five years old." she could hear her father's booming voice. Actually, who was that guy? Everyone in the kingdom knew about her.
He had scruffy reddish-brown hair and looked about sixteen or seventeen years old. She squinted. And there was something odd about him that she couldn't exactly put her finger on...

Suddenly, there was a noise. No, not the noise of the guards' armour clinking every time they took a step - a flapping noise, and whatever it was was strong enough to rustle the leaves around her. And then there was a big thump, and when she turned around there was a dragon. A dragon, at least five times her size. Her scales were a shimmering silver and she looked down at the girl sympathetically. And then, silently, just as they looked into each other's eyes, something clicked, and the girl knew, and the dragon knew, that they'd never part each other until death.

Something floated around inside the girl's brain. A name. But as if the dragon could read her mind, it told her silently it already had a name. A name that the galaxy gave her. So she told her what it was, although the girl was only five years old and had no idea how the dragon did it. But it told her, without speaking. Ophaea. She scrunched up her face. "Oh...fay...uh.." she muttered, and the dragon nudged her with its huge muzzle. Why is it here? she wondered. Doesn't it have a home?

The guards were getting closer, she realised. But what would they do if they found her? She walked right up to the dragon, dragging her dress along the mossy ground, and removed a necklace studded with pearls that she wore for good luck. Her father had said that it was a gift from her mother, who'd found each of those pearls herself. She died when Melina was born, which was why the king was so protective of that necklace. But the little girl didn't know if they'd see each other again if the guards caught up with them. "I want you to have this," she muttered as the dragon willingly lifted its talon for her to put the necklace around. Melina smiled. "Goodbye, Oh...faea.. it was a pleasure to meet you. I sincerely hope we see each other again." She was only young, but that was something that the royal family had ground into her brain so much she wanted to scream. But she never thought those words would come out while she was speaking to a dragon.

And with that, she left the woods and walked fearlessly over to the direction she could hear the guards coming from, and eventually, she caught up with them. At first, they had to blink in her direction a few times, their eyes just getting attuned to the darkness. "Y-your Highness!" The one at the front stuttered. "Your father is looking for you."

Goodness knows how much King Gordon yelled at her for 'losing' that necklace, but eventually, eventually, after all those punishments he could have given her, he beckoned her closer and hugged her. "You would have loved your mother..." he whispered.



-Present-


His name was Lucifer. The Galaxian name of the dragon he tamed was Grackendorf. Raised in the sand dunes, boy and dragon. The boy couldn't remember any of his past life from before he was about five, though. He was a teenager when they first met. It must have been a coincidence. He had gone out in search of food or water to replenish his supply at around noon one time but had no luck. Not a single scorpion or an oasis. But what he did find was more extraordinary than anything else he'd ever seen before that he could remember. A ginormous crimson-scaled dragon, its wings the size of the sandhill he was on, its menacing eyes staring right at him.
Several months later, when he was actually in need of food, the teenager decided to roam around the woods, leaving the dragon at his hut until he came back.
When he got there, the first thing that he saw was a ginormous building behind the forest, which he assumed was the Castle of Gordon. He found several fruits and berries that he put into his basket and was just about to leave when he saw a little girl in a blue dress rush out of the castle, panting and grinning. Several moments later half a dozen guards came out, most likely in search of the girl. He hid behind some bushes, realising that he wasn't sure whether he should be this close to the castle or not. Then he noticed something else. He squeezed his eyes shut and remembered the girl. The girl... there was something about her facial features and her flowing gold hair. Something about her grey eyes and the way she smiled. The blue dress she was wearing, as if he'd seen that somewhere in the nursery before...
Realisation hit him like a knife stabbing straight into his heart. Mother. He knew this place. He grew up here, although something happened between when he was five years old and when he was six. And he knew why, too. Only a male in the royal bloodline could be the heir to the throne. A queen was just a king's partner. And his wretched father thought he would be a risk to his everlasting monarchy. He winced. A large, muscular man in a robe came out and spotted him. "Have you seen my daughter?" He asked in a low voice, pulling his bushy black beard as he spoke. "Your daughter...?" Lucifer started. "Yes-- the princess."
"The princess? Erm, what does she look like, I might have seen her."
He smiled. "Blonde hair, blue dress... she's five years old."
Ah, the little girl who just ran past. WAIT. If she's his daughter and she's a princess, he's... He paused his thoughts for a second, nodding and pointing towards the woods, where the king directed the guards that way and left.
My father.


And that was nearly fifteen years ago. Lucifer had been waiting for the right moment to pounce, the right moment to get revenge on his father if he were still alive, and the right moment for everyone in the kingdom to know who he was.
And maybe soon it would be.

♦

The eighteen-year-old Princess Melina sat looking into her table-mirror as her maids curled her long hair, adding silver sequins and what-not. A few moments later, one of the two stretched up and squinted. "Is it alright?" Melina asked. "Yes, M'Lady, we're happy." the dresser replied, nodding at the other. They curtsied and scuttled out of the room.
She got out of the chair, straightening her long lace corset dress as she went to the door. She opened it, where there were a few guards here and there.
She shook her head. Sometimes people, especially her father could be too cautious. She walked elegantly into the corridor as workers coming by curtsied and bowed. "Morning, Mrs Leemings! Mr Crobble," she nodded her head. She loved to greet people and treat people who worked for her as friends or at least try to.
A plump lady from the butcher block in the village walked up to her. "Now 'wot are you doing 'ere in the corridor, young lady?" she said, which nearly made Melina laugh at how informal that was. She smiled. "You're from the butcher block aren't you? I recognise your uniform. I'm Princess Melina, nice to meet you." Ugh. Something else that had to be ground into her brain. There was so many, many things and phrases. And what was the point of introducing herself? She was in the royal castle of Gordon, the king's daughter! Who didn't know about her?

Then she remembered something. Something she had thought about frequently when she was younger, but she'd almost completely forgotten about it after that. When she was five or six... no, she couldn't forget the moment in the woods when she met Ofaea, but something she could have forgotten from that time was that there was a boy... he looked a few years younger than how old she was now at the time. He looked like he didn't come from here, and he didn't know about her... did he realise he was talking to the king that time? She couldn't be sure.

He probably just came from the outskirts and was new to the village, that's all. Always overthinking, aren't you, Mel... She liked to call herself that, but because she was a princess no-one else would. Apparently, it just sounded like she was 'normal', not the king's daughter. What was even the point of being the 'king's daughter' when she wasn't an heir to the throne? And who would be the next monarch if her father died?
She smacked her forehead. Of course. Her little cousin, Leopold. He was only four years old now, but he was a boy and had royal blood from the king's sister being his mother.

Only just at that moment did the girl realise the woman in front of her was talking, the whole time she was thinking. She just smiled and nodded, which was usually what she did in this kind of situation, although obviously sometimes it didn't work.
"And you know what happened? That ghastly beast bit his big toe off!"
"Yeah, I agree..."
"What?"
"Mm-hmm..."
"Well I ain't know if you know about it, little one, but it's huge and silvery-creamy and it's got bloomin' scales!"

That was when she started concentrating. Huge? Silvery-creamy? Scales? "Ofae-" she cut herself off and cleared her throat. "Ah, well, yes, thank you, I... am aware. Have a good day!"

OFAEA BIT SOMEONE'S TOE OFF?! Her mind screamed, though physically she was just walking down the corridor and greeting workers passing by. She skipped off to the woods as fast as she could without anyone sniffing out anything strange.
She stepped onto an exact piece of moss, summoning the dragon after a few moments. She looked sheepish. "Ofaea!" She scolded. "If you keep this up you will be hunted and shot, do you understand?
The beast whimpered a little and shook herself. The pearls on her wrist rattled violently. Melina tried not to look at it, otherwise, it would make her feel soft and forgiving, but right now was not the time and she stared straight into her big, strong grey eyes. The dragon knew what she was doing wrong. Oh, yes. There was no fun in the woods, being told off by the princess. Biting toes off was fun.

Melina stamped on her talon, which didn't really do much other than make Ophaea mad. "And that's my announcement for the day," she said and walked off.

There was only one other person who knew about the dragon, and that was her handmaid, Bella. Melina considered her as her best friend, a trustworthy companion. She walked into her chambers and found her inside, which cheered her up a bit. "Belle!" she cried and hugged her. "I've missed you!" Bella looked like she was about to laugh. "Mel, I was only gone for a day to the village... you're such an attention seeker..." she shook her head and wrapped her arms around her as well.
Alright, so there was one person who called her by her nickname, of course. She was the only one who didn't consider her as a stereotypical princess; a princess who would faint at the sight of blood, a princess who did only what her father told her to do.

Then Bella stiffened and pulled away. "What now? It's that blooming dragon, isn't it? What has she done this time?"
Melina looked down shamefully. "A woman from the butcher says she bit someone's toe off..." she mumbled. "WHAT?!" Bella roared. "Bit someone's toe off? Like, off?" She looked appalled. And she should be, Melina shuffled awkwardly. "I should go... I'm glad you're back," she replied and went back out of her chambers. And that was when she heard a huge crashing noise, right outside the palace. She squinted out of the blurry window and saw a massive red blur. She'd never actually needed to do that, and she realised those windows were just there to look pretty, not actually to look out of. So she untightened the screw next to it and opened it up to have a closer look. And that was when she saw it.

The biggest, most menacing creature she'd ever seen. And yet it looked so, so much like Ofaea. It was a dragon. Its scales as red as blood, its claws the size of swords. And then, after taking her eyes off the dragon just for a moment to look at something else she noticed that just moved... and she froze.

The boy from all those years ago. The one with the scruffy red hair and all these coverings to protect his skin. The boy talking to her father about where she was in the forest. And he'd come back. With a dragon, both of them standing on top of one of the tall buildings attached to the castle. She ran to the armoury as fast as she could, suddenly hearing villagers screaming in panic and shock.
As soon as she got there, she took the chest plate and other various armour that had been designed specifically for her, and grabbed the sharpest sword she could find in there. Just in case. In the middle of the hallway, she put all her protection gear on, which was awkward to walk in because of her long dress. But she didn't have time to change. She got outside and climbed the stairs right to the top of the tower in front of the man. The dragon was further away from the castle, on the ground.

And then he saw her and smirked. "Ah. Your Highness. You've grown ever so much. And dressed up for the occasion, have we?" he sniggered, staring at the silver armour fitted on her. "Do you remember me? From all those years ago? You couldn't have. But I remember you."
"I do. I remember the night when I ran away and you were talking to my father. And you didn't know who I was. So who are you?"

He laughed.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, Princess, I haven't introduced yourself. My name is Lucifer, and I'm here to get revenge on our father." he said casually.
Melina gasped.
"Our father?" she spat. Lucifer nodded.
"You see, there are no female heirs to the throne and so a king must be able to have a son. And he did."
Melina smirked. "You wish. I've been an only child my whole life and now I will always be because my mother is dead."
"DEAD BECAUSE OF YOU!" He screamed suddenly, and Melina took several steps back in astonishment. She had no idea who this man was, coming to the palace with a dragon, attempting to make her believe that they have the same parents and to take have revenge on the king? And now, the next thing he said, a thousand times worse than anything anyone could say to her - your mother is dead because of you. But he wasn't wrong.

And now his lip started trembling, in fury or in pain, and he told her something else. "It was years before you were born, sister. I remember this place! I was born here, in our parents' chambers. They kept me for five years before that wretched beast that you call father realised what threat I was to him; and you know, so clearly, what that is. Because you were raised as a princess. To know all those rules you must follow. And yet you never cared to be a queen. Maybe you would if those rules hadn't been placed in your heart, every single hour of every single day. And then you would dream of being a ruler. Just as I did, in the sand dunes. With no-one, nothing but a dragon. And then one day I had run out of food and came to the forest. And I saw you. And I saw you wear the little blue dress that I remembered seeing in the nursery all those years ago. And I remembered your face. And I saw my mother. And that was when I remembered."

Melina didn't know what to think. Her whole body was shaking, her vision blurred with tears she wouldn't let come out. "L-liar..." she said softly. "You're just a... a greedy boy from the outskirts, wanting to rule the kingdom," she muttered, although she didn't believe herself. She had an honest brother. She had a cruel father who wanted the throne for himself. And just when she was about to say something else, there was a rustle in the forest and a huge screeching noise. And the red dragon pounced right onto it.

"Ofaea!" Melina screamed as loud as she could, while she looked at Lucifer's disbelieving face. He looked puzzled, but it didn't take long for him to understand. His sister had a dragon. And Grackendorf knew, too.
The princess rushed down the stairs of the tower as fast as she could, and he did the same. They met again in the forest.

"Grackendorf!" She heard Lucifer shout, but she didn't hear the rest. The huge dragon had crashed down on the silvery one, and she actually seemed small compared to him. It took off, and Ofaea followed. They crashed into the castle, clawing at each other. And that was when Grackendorf hissed a small amount of fire between two scales, where the skin was bare. Ofaea's high-pitched scream shattered one of the nearby windows. She too could do something. She was raised in the forest and could hook onto trees easily. She lifted her huge claw and hooked it near the dragon's neck, pushing hard enough to pierce it. "Run!" Melina shouted to the villagers, and a gong sounded soon after that. Everyone was screaming. She found her father running out with a chest. "No, no, leave everything behind, it'll slow you down!" She told him.

"Ofaea!" she screamed. She didn't listen. The two dragons' cat-fight had turned into something more, and she was getting scared. The little one could never overthrow Grackendorf. He was huge, with tough scales and a muscular build. But he was slow and stubborn and she was fast and agile. Maybe she could.
And then Melina remembered how to summon a dragon if it really was your soulmate. She ran to the patch of moss in the forest where she found the dragon for the first time when she was five years old, and stamped on it. No matter whether she wanted to or not, Ofaea had to obey. She flapped her huge wings and came back, giving Melina the death stare. "What is it?" She said. "Have you never seen another dragon befor-" she cut herself off and smacked her forehead. Of course she hadn't! Her mother had left her in the egg and abandoned her in the forest.

And Ofaea told her something else. That this dragon - she knew him and yet she'd never seen him. They had the same mother.
That sounds an awful lot like my situation, Melina chuckled silently.
It's true, Ofaea insisted, and lifted the bottom of her paw, showing Melina a marking she'd never seen before. It looked like three eggs, although two were white and one was black. There was another... Melina heard, so she guessed that when a sibling died the mark turned black. And Ofaea and Grackendorf were the two white markings.

Let the boy stay, she urged. Let our brothers stay.

[TheSongOfTheStars]

Fire in the west, blazing on the horizon, a cloud of smokd hovering on the brink of sky and savannah.
The herds fleeing, the ground trembling, the air shaking with the sound of their hooves.

"Adavan! Adavan, what do you see!?" Nimbau shouted up to the white dragon perched atop the watchtower.
"Just a brush fire," the white dragon rumbled quietly, his long tail swinging back and forth "Nothing to worry about, child."
"Oh," the young man said with a dull sigh as he sank down the steps "I was almost excited."
The old dragon rumbled softly "Your excitement will come soon enough."
"It's been five times the moon has waxed and waned, still nothing to mark has passed."
"Yes, have patience though, and the adventure will be all the sweeter for the wait."
"That's very well for you to say," Nimbau said dryly "You have two hundred more years to live."
"You still have much time ahead of you," Adavan said with a faint chuckle. Then something rippled on the smokey horizon and Adavan straightened up.
"What? What is it?" Nimbau noticed the change in Adavan instantly.
"Another dragon."
"From the savanna?"
"No, they're flying in a curve, they've come from the mountains," Adavan stood, muscles rippling and wings spreading out "And they're headed directly towards us."
"Should I alert the rest of the watch?"
"Yes, quickly," Adavan crouched "They're coming directly for us!"

Nimbau and the rest of the Watch had just reached the top of the steps when the red dragon dropped out of the sky like red thunder. He'd circled the tower three times, making no hails or greeting and Adavan was prepared to meet him.
But the strange aggressor dove faster than the old watchdragon anticipated and instead of meeting the red dragon in the air, they crashed inches above the tower.
The red dragon propelled Adavan into the stonework, sending huge chunks of the building raining down on the Watch.

The men turned and raced back the way they came, but Nimbau, a half-step behind the others, didn't make it to the safety of the curve of the building.
A small stray piece of stone flew out and crashed against the back of his head, leaving a bloody dent in his helmet.
And as black encompassed him, Nimbau could hear the roar of fire raging around him.


It was quiet, aside from a few soft moans. Nimbau added his own voice to the chorus as he sat up slowly, white-hot pain stabbing through his skull.
Around him on the wide, broken stairs his fellow members of the watch lay moaning.

"Nimbau?" Adavan's weak rough voice cut through the chilling stillness.
Nimbau turned to see Adavan collapsed on the stairs, white body rent and seeping red.
"What happened?" Nimbau rasped, using his spear to leverage his broken body up.
"H-he tore us and the watchtower apart..." Adavan's voice began to fade "Then he turned...towards the west....Towards the cities...They must be warned," His words faded on the crimson trimmed air "They must be warned..."

[math_gnome]

hey, might be a little late but I'll post it anyways

A Girl on the Wall, Unafraid

Winter ends in a cataclysm of fire. The world is cracked and reforged beneath the whims of the dragons circling the skies above, warring for dominance over a broken land. This is how it always goes. There has never been a time without the dragons, without the violent upheaval that marks the change of the seasons. Perhaps the fire burns a little brighter this time. Perhaps the battle has gone on longer than it should. The Laughing Lady, whose breath brings the flowers, is the gentlest of the dragons. The Cold King, ruler of winter, though hard and cruel, is nevertheless just and yields his throne in time. Why do they fight so this year? I cannot say. Perhaps it is simply an illusion. The human mind is a changeable thing, prone to forgetting.
In the city, the band plays, its music catching and echoing inside the tall stone walls, drowning out the sounds of the dragons’ roars. If it plays a little louder this year than it has the past, well, who can say why? Such things happen. In houses great and small, behind carefully bolted doors, parents tell their children tales of the dragons to the accompaniment of a flute or a fiddle. They tell how the Dancing Lord who rules the summer skies stole the Laughing Lady away from the Cold King, of how his rage almost burned the world, except that the Lady tempered his fury. That is, of course, why gentle spring must come before the fierce heat of summer. They tell of the advent of autumn, as the Fallen Queen steals back her husband’s throne, almost killing the Dancing Lord. All through the fall and the winter, the Laughing Lady nurses her mate back to health to rise to the skies once again when the time has come for winter to break.
This is how it always goes. Four dragons, four seasons. Some change like a gentle whisper, others a battle of claws and teeth. But it is always the same. There is never a year where the Lady does not drive the King out of the skies, where the Queen does not strike down the Lord. Perhaps that is why the doors are locked so carefully this year, why children are herded with nervous laughter and lying smiles away from the windows while in streets the guards tremble and those who must leave the safety of their homes dash from shelter to shelter. Because this is not the slow departure of winter as the Cold King descends to his subterranean lair. This is a storm of fire and fury, ice and wind, the end of times descending upon the unfortunates huddled below its wrath. For the Laughing Lady has not taken to the air, and nothing stands between the wrath of the Dancing Lord, centuries delayed, and the Cold King whom he so hates.
Of course, children rarely do as they are told. Perhaps it is inevitable that she will wander outside. I do not know her name. She is all children, in all ages, and she has the eyes for truth that we always forget children have and the mischievous nature that has frustrated many a parent. When she sneaks out into the street through an unguarded window, who is there to stop her? She has many siblings. Her parents are busy, and the curiosity of a child will not be sated. She wanders through the streets, ignored by adults too wrapped up in their own panic to notice the slip of a girl dancing through the shadows. And of course, as was bound to happen, she reaches the wall, and as was bound to happen, she looks up.
She looks up and sees a sky on fire and the majestic war of kings that writhes through the clouds. She is young, but she knows the stories. This is wrong. Where is the Lady? And why does no one else seem to notice?
Nothing goes unnoticed forever, neither flaming skies nor children who are where they should not be. The guards on the wall see her, panic, rush down to sweep her off her feet and bundle her back to her parents, who are surely sick with worry by now. Children are small though, and if the eyes can easily miss them, so too can the hands. She darts away and runs up the wall, dashing up stairs two at a time, laughing. The terror above is forgotten in the thrill of the chase. The guards shout an alarm, calling for help. What will happen to such a small child, alone and exposed? A thousand images flash through their minds, each ending in tragedy. Does she know? Does she see the danger? Perhaps she does, but then, children have always been less prone to visions of impending doom.
She reaches a turret and scales the outside with bare feet and nimble fingers. Soldiers curse and bite their tongues. She looks down at them, unfazed by the height, and continues her climb.
At the top, she stands, buffeted by wind but unbowed by the tempest. The battle in the sky continues. The guards below shout for her to come back and cower in terror as the dragons swoop lower, lower, lower, tumbling towards the city walls, locked in a vicious embrace heedless of the city and the terrified people on the walls.
She shouts something, the little girl on the wall. The wind washes it away. The guards run and hide, survival taking over. The dragons continue their plunge.
They – well, does it matter? The important parts of this story have already been told. Perhaps the dragons turn away and she still stands in the wake of their passing. Perhaps not. It is, I suppose, up to you. But let the image stay untarnished in your mind, dear reader, of the girl on the wall, unafraid. For it matters not what end comes, only how we face it.


(apologies if its overly, ah, flowery)