Ring Of Silver, Ring Of Gold

It happened again! It’s Friday! And you know what that means? A short story. I hope you guys enjoy. This one is a couple of months old, since I haven’t had time to write many what with Camp Nano (met my goal 2 days goal! 🙂 ).

The ring of silver and gold encircles me entirely. I know that others have stepped into it, their bodies lie broken and battered around me, nothing left but shells of what they were. Most are simply bones.

Before I entered the circle, I counted at least sixteen of them in several forms of decay. The freshest only weeks old–a girl I saw die–and the most weathered is barely a scattering of bones.

I walk toward the open book in the center, knowing I am different than these others, knowing I will be the one to touch the book and live. I force the knowing down my own throat.

Around me, the silver and gold rings that appeared to be painted on the ground, begin to shimmer. The farther in I go toward the middle, the stronger the glow becomes. Till finally, when I am a few feet from the book lying open on the stand, light sprays out from them, forming massive domes–silver, then gold.

I knew this would happen, I watched as the last two tried this. The gold and silver barriers glow almost painfully, so I look away.

The pages of the book had began to flip, as if ruffled by some ghost breeze. Faster, and faster they turn. Around me the domes of light shimmer and writhe, as if locked in battle with each other.

I am different though. I know it to my soul, I know it in the tips of my gold and silver coated fingers. I am different, I will not succumb to the power. Over and over I repeat this in my head, nearly a fanatical repetition at this point.

The pages turn faster as I reach out for them. My hands tremble.

Words in a language I don’t yet speak flash by. Different. The walls crackle, and the magic makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand. Different. I know what to do, I am the one born of silver and gold. This is my birthright.

A small smile twitches my lips as I reach out and grab the book. The walls are sending off sparks now, but no bolt of power shoots down into me like the last two.

I am different.

With an effort, I close the book. It is as if it actively wishes to resist me. Then suddenly, it snaps shut.

I hold it close to my heart and walk for the still crackling walls. But now I know, I know that it is meant for me, for I am the first to touch it since the time of the Molten Wyrm. I am the new dragon, and I have taken what’s mine.

The walls of the domes of silver and gold let me pass with ease. The smile returns to my lips, it has been too long since I last smiled.

Without a single word, the new dragon passed from the sacred place, holding texts that no one had read in a millennia, and returned to the world. For better or ill, the world would find its drakes and queen dragons again. And the new dragon would be the one to lead them into it.

Have You Ever?

Have you ever tried to pour words out onto the page, and something wonderful happened?

Well, for me it has!

When one thing leads to another, and you find yourself lost in a world of words, you’re me.

With a little work (okay, maybe a lot) you can breath life into characters and a world of your imagination. And then, you aren’t just some weird person who talks to themselves!

You’re a writer.

From poetic creation to sprawling novels that stretch from horizon to horizon, I love few things more than to find that spark and turn it into something. Admittedly, it’s not always the best, but all creation takes time to practice.

I hope you like my work half as much as I like making it. Now, let’s go that dragon and save the damsel!