Thursday, February 21, 2019

Thursday's Fourth Scene The Wizards of Fyre #MFRWAuthor #BWLPublishingLTD #Fantasy #Romance


The ancient dragon stirred. A faint vice crying for help had roused him from his dreams. Slowly memories oozed into his mind. Though he tried to stop the cascade he couldn’t. Once he’d been a young green preparing to take his place as guardian to young reds and blues of his line. The disaster had arrived on white sailed ships.
The men known as wizards had come from afar. The screams of slaughtered dragons filled the air. Three lines had been obliterated. One line had fled to the mountains. His kin. Many of them had died in the attempt to cross the towering peaks. He had been left behind because he’d been too young to make the journey. The cave system had been his home. When the last voice of his kin had faded an ancient yellow had sent him into the deep hibernating sleep.
How many cycles of the sun had passed since his sleep had begun? Why had he roused? He searched for the voices of other dragons and met silence. Anger fueled by memories filled his thoughts. He sensed the presence of wizards. Not the ones who had first come but others. A desire to see his kin avenged roared through him. He needed someone to hear and speak for him. Would the voice he’d heard be the one?
He dragged his aching body to his feet. He lumbered to the entrance into his sleeping place. Slowly he moved along the wide corridor past the cold room and the one where his people’s belongings had been stored. Humid heat drew him to the cavern where heated water bubbled in a pool. The steaming water eased his aching body. He continued to search for the voice that had awakened him.

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