Legacy of light

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic
Rough draft. Criticism welcome. Part 2 available if wanted.

Submitted: October 31, 2016

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Submitted: October 31, 2016



Sunwalkers. Once a noble and proud race. Champions of the light. With wings of gold they roamed the skies, gravity forgotten, the very heavens were their domain. Sadly, their pride was their downfall. Great dragons could still be found in the dark corners of the world. The older dragons were renowned for their might and cruelty. The oldest dragon had no name, for his existence predated known civilization. The dragons very presence darkened the skies, his mouth belching dark smoke with every breath. If the Sunwalkers represented the light and good in the world then the dragon surely represented the opposite. As summer was coming to an end, with fall's chill creeping around the corner, the dragon gazed from his den in the darklands. Long had he watched the children of light frolic in the skies, HIS skies. Dragons are notoriously jealous of what they consider theirs. And so the old dragon hatched a plan, to strike as the first storm of Fall darkened the sky. The day came, Thunder rolled and lightning split the sky. The dragon left his cave, spread his massive wings, and took off for the Sunlit City. Rising into the blackened sky he gathered all his rage and malice, inhaling a mighty breath. Holding it, he waited till he was over the shining city, then banked over into a steep dive. The citizens of the Sunlit City at first mistook the roar of a dragon for the defening thunder. Then a wave of darkness shot from the serpents mouth, striking the city like a hammer. Many perished in that instant. The darkness ate all life that stood on its path. A truly cruel end. Though indeed shaken by this unprovoked and savage attack, the people of the city were quick to rally the remaining warriors for a counter attack. And thus their fatal mistake. The Sunwalkers strength came from the sun itself. Without it their wings were weak and their weapons, forged with light, we're dulled. The storm was to heavy, the clouds thick and dark. The black breath of the beast seemed to swallow light on its own. No sunlight could possibly peirce the inky black sky. But the children of light were heedless to the warnings of the elders. Vengeance clung to them, and they took to the skies, blinded by pride and anger. The dragon smirked, "predictable" he thought.

The battle that day marked a dark period in history. The children of the sun were almost completely wiped out in a single day. Barely a hundred escaped the attack, out of a city of thousands. Their warriors fallen, city in ruins, and spirit broken, the Sunwalkers became a nomad tribe.

The sun, which had shown bright and clear each day, never again broke the dark clouds. A land so beautiful and full of life became an ever dark and dying place.

© Copyright 2018 John Tristeza. All rights reserved.

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