MARCH 2021 75-Word Story -- VICTORY TO VICTORIA SILVERWOLF!

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Ursa major

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RULES:

Write a story inspired by the chosen theme and genre in no more than 75 words, not including the title

ONE entry per person

NO links, commentary or extraneous material in the posts, please -- the stories must stand on their own



WHEN WRITING YOUR STORY, PLEASE REMEMBER THIS IS A FAMILY-FRIENDLY FORUM

All stories Copyright 2021 by their respective authors
who grant the Chronicles Network the non-exclusive right to publish them here



The complete rules can be found at RULES FOR THE WRITING CHALLENGES

Contest ends at 11:59 pm GMT, 23 March 2021
Voting ends at 11:59 pm GMT, 28 March 2021


You do not have to submit a story in order to vote -- in fact, we encourage all Chrons members to take part in choosing a winner


The Magnificent Prize:

The Dignified Congratulations/Grovelling Admiration of Your Peers
and the challenge of choosing next month's theme and genre




Theme:

HERE BE DRAGONS


Genre:

OPEN



This thread to be used for entries only. Please keep all comments to the
DISCUSSION THREAD


We invite (and indeed hope for) lively discussion and speculation about the stories as they are posted,
as long as it doesn't involve the author explaining the plot




** Please do not use the "Like" button in this thread! **
 
Beyond the Spires

We sailed anxiously toward the Spires in our small fleet of makeshift craft. It was the best we could do. Young families with provisions enough for 100 days. We packed spades and hoes, knives and saws, and a botanica of medicines.

We proceeded on rumors of faraway lands rich in fauna and flora. Lands of hope and future.

As we rounded the Spires, Caroline signaled the boats astern, “Pull in all lines. Here be dragons.”
 
Here Be Dragons?

Over hill and under tumbled stone,
Feet become blistered, worn to bone,
Through blazing sun and pouring rain,
Bearing unbearable pain.

A quest like those of old;
A knight e’er so bold,
To find the beasts rooted in legend deep,
To raise them from draconian sleep.

Days blur into months and years,
Age brings failure, bitter tears,
Oh, false maiden of fate I curse her,
Dragons ne’er to be found, if there ever were.
 
Claws

“We’ll camp here for the night, in this natural hollow.”

“You sure, Colonel? Shouldn’t we push on? Everyone’s nervous. You know, the rumours…”

“Calm down, dear. Calm down. They’re just rumours. Anyway, my rifle’s loaded and I’m a crack shot.”

“Colonel, about this natural hollow. It’s elongated and there are three deep indentations at that end.”

A distant sound of flapping came closer then stopped. The ground trembled.

“You’re going to need a bigger gun…”
 
The only sounds were the snapping of branches underfoot as the soldiers picked their way through the barren forest. As a low, thundering sound rolled across the still atmosphere, the leader paused in the dim light to squint at a square of canvas.

Suddenly, the page lit up, as did the sky.

Cries of fear ripped from his men's throats as his eyes widened. Next to his thumb, the smudged ink read: Here be Dragons!
 
Dragon's Den

They tolerate your presence as long as you're useful to them, but don't you dare pinch a single coin, even if you are the source of its creation or giving it its value.

The beast doesn’t need it, neither should you, but you risk your life for it.

The only way to escape the dragon’s kingdom is to destroy it or leave it.

But most of us are content with just being in it.
 
Going for a swim -
A white dense mist envelops the surrounding valley.
Wonder and delight guide the female elf forward, no worries or dread.
She smiles, gazing upon a hidden tranquil lake surrounded by stones.
“A perfect place for a swim,” Valerie compliments the warm waters.
Relaxing on a shallow shelf the liquid calm around her.
“Enjoy your swim?” a large, blue-gray serpent head appears.
Shock, surprise and silence momentarily overcomes her.
“There be dragon’s here!” echo’s about.
 
Tale From The Old Kingdom


I’ll tell ye a tale from not long ago,

Now sit down beside me, in fire’s glow.

These cracking flames do oft remind me,

Of times in the past that weren’t so kindly.


The screaming cries of those soon departed,

When dragons came to these parts uncharted.

Soaring above our little wooden town,

Their streams of fire begun raining down.


Burning buildings, we were running wild.

Ran into the wreck, there lay my child.​
 
Sure, Honey – Daddy’ll Tell You that Story Again

We love talking with mommy, but I was once terrified of trying.
Days before school ended I saw her in the upper library; we’d never spoken, I’d likely never see her again after graduation.
Mommy took the escalator downstairs, disappearing slowly.
I remembered proof the Earth wasn’t flat – ships disappeared gradually over the horizon without falling into oblivion; it’s round, take chances.
I ran after her… we’ve never stopped talking.
That’s why you’re named Escalator.
 
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Seeds of Doubt

“It’s not true, just a sorcerous dictator’s propoganda,” Marion said. “Dragons are not evil.”

“How do you know?” asked her young grandson.

“I remember. Come, I’ll show you.”

From a dusty shoebox hidden away long ago during the Mage revolution, she pulled a yellowed photograph. It showed a little girl snuggled up against a scaled beast’s tail.

“Cool grandma, I want a dragon friend too!”

She smiled, and knew hope was not lost.
 
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Tribute

Two humans approached. The woman carried a sword, but the wyrm had survived many attacks.

The pair stopped. The woman laid her weapon on the ground, then kicked it toward the wyrm. The man pulled instruments from a pouch. The wyrm grabbed the offering with its claws and slithered away.

"Was it worth the loss of a fine blade?" The woman frowned.

"A tiny price," the man replied, "to sketch the last of its kind."
 
Enter the Dragon

He awoke in mist, fists clenched, knuckles cracking the dead air. Around him, shadows flickered.

Something large lumbered towards him, the smaller shadows fleeing the corners of his eyes.

"Long have I waited, Lee Jun-fan. You are mine," its rasping voice cutting the mist ahead.

"It is not you who have been waiting for me. It is I who have been waiting for you," Jun-fan said, wings bursting from his back as he was reborn.
 
Dragon sonnet.

Trees whispering secrets,
Tales of old and crusty days,
When knights were bold,
And dragons terrorised all,
Knowing they would fall.

A dampness caught unaware,
Fungi filled crevices full,
No flames to dry the moisture,
A sword or lance was thrust,
Into a dragon's hide, a weakness.

Today the winds blow cold,
Through the green forest,
And only the Trees could,
Remember the tales of old.
 
One small step

Today would be the day. He'd perfected the techniques, learned the rotes.

The teachings ascribed a bold approach, no subtle manoeuvres. He met his target's hazel eyes, swallowed back the nervous demons which attempted to grab his tongue.

One small step.

“Louise, would you like to go to the dance?”

Her reply, a blushing sunrise of a yes.

Girls? His Dad had replied the night before. Here be dragons, Son.

Maybe in your day, Dad.
 
The Peasants revolt


Sun flickers - icy shadow overflies,
Transforming spring to frozen winter's core.
Another clutch:- another tribute Maiden,
Season of sacrifice arriving once more
Our weapons of aristocrat deflection,
Dragon with tribute maidens - unbeatable protection

"The villagers side with the dragon, my Lords,
Spread tripwires, caltrops to cripple our steeds
Conceal grainstores, cut tethers, bluntening swords
While their daughters monster's needs
Before this experience none could believe
They'd stand by the predator, leave widows to grieve."

 
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Why I Turned to Drink.


In a nearby field there is a mound, nothing ever grows, the soil looks like ash.

They say it's an anomaly of nature, I know different.

With my own eyes I saw them, they laid down their dead, turned them to ash. I took out my phone to record the truth, the biggest saw me, engulfed me in cold flame, the phone melted along with proof.

No one believes, I’m now the village drunk
 
Always and forever

A blazing light, then ash filled gloom. Gone were the beasts we shared the land with. An earlier, slightly worn memory.
There were more of us then, but never many.

Innumerable are the odd creatures we see now. Occasionally disturbing us. Scurrying through their fleeting existence. Noisy but without consequence.

I settle myself once more, wondering what life will follow. Should it be our time?
A thought worthy of consideration, but first a short nap...
 
Rescue Mission

"We've come to rescue you, Princess Lointaine," said one knight.

"I was stranded here by humans just like you. How can I trust you?"

Thunderous roars were heard in the distance.

"We must go," said the second knight.

"No, you must go," said Lointaine, "lest my friends see you. I told them more humans would come."

There came the beating of gigantic wings.

"We will stay," said the third knight.

"Very well. Sic 'em, boys!"
 
More Setbacks in the Fight Against Global Warming


“OY! Have you got a permit for this?”

“Why would I need a permit?”

“You can’t incinerate virgins without the proper paperwork anymore.”

“Paperwork! Stick your…”

“I’ll remind you; verbal abuse of city officials is an offence. Also, your CO2 emissions exceed regulation levels. Failure to comply may render you subject to sharp pointy objects.”

“Mm. Those regulations, may I see them?”

“AAAARRRGHHHHHHH,”

“Idiot, virgin: it’s the same to me. You can go home girl.”
 
A Matter of Scale

Welsh dragons were eventually discovered in a little cave in the Preseli hills. Smaller than expected and purple.

Reaching in Professor Roberts lost the hairs on his hand and the cuff of his anorak to a burst of flame.
Methane, belched to order and ignited by grinding teeth.

He decided to keep their location secret. Though any patient nocturnal observer would catch a brief flash on the hillside as a small rodent met its demise.
 
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