We had a great selection of entries from our April creative writing contest. Enjoy our favorite story from the adult category. Congratulations to Erin Smith!<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Talons and Tales<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n By Erin Smith<\/p>\n\n\n\n Issagoth dreamed, and when it dreamed, it dreamed of fire and\nflight and the shrieks of its enemies. This particular fire-drake was small for\nits age, only the size of a warhorse, but it was also wily and fierce. It never\nwent hungry, even in the long winter months when little stirred beyond its cave\ndoor.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The wind outside shifted, and the drake stirred irritably as a\ndraught slipped in through the cave opening, the icy fingers scraping its black\nhide. Issagoth hated the cold and the whirling snow that blew in its face\nwhenever it had to slither out of its lair to track down food. But more than\nthat, it hated the endless monotony of the short days and long nights when\nnothing moved within its view in the surrounding valley. It was never as happy\nas on summer days when it was diving to the ground to harry a hapless villager with\nits fiery breath or carrying off a sheep in its talons. Boredom, on the other\nhand, was a foe even the drake could not defeat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Something tickled at the edges of its hearing as it tried to\nsettle itself back into a comfortable position on the cave floor. A buzzing hum\nas if from a dragonfly sounded over the wind\u2019s shriek, but it was far too early\nin the year for such a creature to be on the loose. Issagoth eased its eyes\nopen for the first time in days and flicked its tongue into the air, tasting\nfor the first signs of spring and to assess what the unwelcome visitor might\nbe. The scent coating its tongue was something it had not tasted since it was a\nhatchling.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI know you are there,\u201d the drake hissed in a dry rasp, lifting\nits head off the floor. \u201cYou might as well show yourself, sprite.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n The buzzing dipped toward Issagoth\u2019s head, and the drake blinked\nits eyes open wide at the sight of a tiny, dark-haired woman in a blue shift\nlevitating in the air. She must have been only three inches tall, and her wings\nflapped so quickly they blurred behind her. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cHi there,\u201d she said, flitting up and down in Issagoth\u2019s vision,\nmuch like the dragonfly the drake thought it had sensed. \u201cI don\u2019t suppose I\ncould borrow your cave for a few hours? It\u2019s freezing out there.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n The drake let wisps of smoke spiral out of its nostrils as a\nwarning to the impertinent visitor. \u201cNo. Begone before I decide whether or not\nyou are worth the trouble of eating.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Ignoring the command, the sprite landed on a rock, her wings\nshowing iridescent in the light filtering in from the cave entrance. She looked\naround with an appraising glance. \u201cNice place. Cozy. Guessing you don\u2019t get\nmany visitors, though.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n Issagoth blinked. \u201cDid you not hear me, sprite? Begone or die by\nmy wrathful flame.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n The sprite quirked an eyebrow. \u201cWell, that\u2019s not very friendly. And\n\u2018by my wrathful flame\u2019? Just how old are you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI am old as the hills. Old as the river flowing through yonder\nvalley.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cOk. Well, I hate to break it to you, but you sound like\nCouncilman Agnew down in the village. He\u2019s always yelling at the kids to stop\nrunning so fast and griping about the price of cabbages.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Issagoth drew itself up, feeling its breath heating in its chest\nas the flames in its stomach kindled. \u201cYou dare,\u201d it sputtered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The sprite sighed in response. \u201cDon\u2019t worry, he\u2019s not as bad as\nsome of the others down there. At least he\u2019s not truly tragic like the poet\npining over the Miller\u2019s daughter. Like she\u2019s going to marry anyone other than\nthe Huntsman. Somebody needs to tell that boy that mediocre poetry does not<\/em> win you any points in the romance\ncategory. And don\u2019t get me started on the songs he\u2019s tried to sing…\u201d She\nshuddered. \u201cNo, you\u2019ve got the right idea hanging out up here on this mountain.\nFarmer Benson and his fianc\u00e9 Glen are the only ones down there worth two gold\npieces, and those guys had a serious row the other day. You wouldn\u2019t believe\nwhat it was about, either.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n The sprite took her boots off as she talked and raised her legs until\nthe soles of her feet were within a few inches of Issagoth\u2019s side. She whistled\nand wiggled her toes. \u201cWow, you\u2019re toasty. That feels amazing.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Despite its irritation, Issagoth felt a stirring of curiosity. This\nwas so different from the usual monotony of its winter slumber. \u201cWhat affront\nhas the farmer made to his betrothed?\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n The sprite grunted. \u201cMy Ma always said gossip makes your ears\nswell and your tongue fall off. I probably shouldn\u2019t be telling you any of\nthis. Forget I said anything.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n The drake shifted on its bed of rocks for a few moments. At last\nit rumbled, \u201cVery well. You may stay, sprite. So long as you continue your prattle.\nI wish to learn the fate of the village folk and to hear the song of the tragic\npoet.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cGreat,\u201d the sprite exclaimed. \u201cIt\u2019s a deal. So, what do you go\nby?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI am Issagoth, Destroyer of Man and Beast, the One who Feasts on\nthe Flesh of the Unwary.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cVanria. Charmed, I\u2019m sure.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n With that, Vanria stood, fluttered her wings, and zipped upwards\nto the cave ceiling before settling herself onto Issagoth\u2019s long neck. She\nrolled over onto her back and stretched out her legs, one hand idly scratching\nthe drake\u2019s hide. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cSo, get this, Issy. Glen and Ambrose\u2014that\u2019s Farmer Benson\u2014wanted\nto buy this cow named Buttercup. And Glen promised Ambrose he\u2019d go into town\nwith three gold pieces to get it. But then the cabbage seller offered him ten<\/em> cabbages and a magic ring\u2026\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n Issagoth\ngazed out past the cave entrance at the swirling snow and closed its eyes as\nVanria spun her tales. And when it dreamed, it dreamed of cabbages and poets,\nof farmers and millers\u2019 daughters, of magic rings and the droning sound of\nwings buzzing through the air.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" We had a great selection of entries from our April creative writing contest. Enjoy our favorite story from the adult category. Congratulations to Erin Smith! Talons and Tales By Erin Smith Issagoth dreamed, and when it dreamed, it dreamed of … Continue reading