Tag Archives: Astraea

12 Days of Christmas: Love

Photograph by Sarah Hall, manipulated by Lisa Shambrook
(Please do not use without permission)
Love
He’d never tell, but Kryos was jealous of his friends’ bond, something he could only ever dream of.  Within his devastated race he was the last surviving Krystallos. 
The vision he’d followed through the fog, last night, still haunted him… She was comparable to his race, but she wasn’t Krystallos. She was white, but she’d shimmered translucent green. Other details were hazy, and he’d really only caught a glimpse of her long, swishing tail as she’d vanished into the mist.
He had to find her…
Salt laced the air as the waves crashed against the mountain. The sea breeze revitalised him and as he soared around the eastern peak his mouth dropped. There she was, his ethereal vision, floating on the prevailing wind.
She whirled and spiralled through the air, flying without inhibition or fear. She was a lone creature dancing, above the ocean, dancing to her own song. 
He hung back watching in amazement and she twisted taking on an iridescent hue, the kind of green trapped within an opal, destined to shine with effulgence whenever a stray ray of brilliant light caught it.
Without a doubt it was her. Kryos beheld his ghost, and couldn’t move. He stared transfixed as she wheeled like a lost jewel against the clear blue sky.
He pressed into the mountainside, fearful of being seen, though he blended perfectly against the snow-bleached rocks. His heart thumped almost audibly against his tightened chest, and he watched as the wind carried her across the ocean. He fought the urge to leap into the sky, proud and majestic, and race to meet her. There was no way he was going to scare her off this time. Again, he melted into the frozen rock and couldn’t take his eyes off the mysterious dragon that thawed his heart.
(300 Words)

Day Two: February – Love
Go read the others! 

Five Sentence Fiction: Devotion

Photograph by Lisa Shambrook (Please do not use without permission)

A pale, yellow moon rose over the mountain crags and their necks entwined as they basked in buttermilk moonlight. Her wings shone, sparkling iridescent, as she nuzzled her mate, and he nipped playfully as he stretched his turquoise wings. They soared beneath the blanket of night, spiralling down to the outcrop and landing at the mouth of their cave.
Deep within the rocks, deep inside, safely ensconced amongst jewels and a nest of gems, rested their treasure.
Rays of pale moonlight swam through the cavern and Gwawr’s lavender mist filled the hollow; as her smoke cleared, Dynevor blew a fierce, golden flame at his companion’s feet and warmed their cherished, marbled egg.

Written for the wonderful Lilliemcferrin’s Five Sentence Fiction 
See more great entries here:

Five Sentence Fiction: Scorching

Caught off guard they crouched as the fierce tempest raged above and a ruby wing swept down sending a cloud of red dust spiralling up into the air.
Sand swirled and a crimson dragon hurled a yellow flame, its thunderous roar echoed and the hogs in the field screeched and squealed as they stumbled. The dragon lowered its leg and plucked its prey, skewered in a single movement.
The beast dipped its wings and as it launched back into the sky its vermilion scales blazed in the sun.
Matt broke the sudden silence “Flame grilled…” he said, “Now that’s what I call fast food!”

(These are my opening lines from my current WIP, 
couldn’t have asked for a better prompt word!)

Picture by Lisa Shambrook

Five Sentence Fiction: Enchanted


‘His blue and green scales shimmered, and their flickering colours mesmerized her, a faint sheen of lemon reflected the sky above and Hannah took a subconscious step forward. She instinctively ran her hands over the dragon’s scales and they were smooth, almost velvety, then rough and coarse as she changed direction; she’d imagined his scales to be hard and cold, like the shiny, metallic colours ought to be.
The dragon bent his head and nuzzled her hair, making her jump as his hot breath tickled. His eyes followed as she ran her hand across his flank, like a small child brushing past railings, and he lifted his wing to let her pass beneath.

She gently took his wing and rubbed her cheek against the blue hide, it felt like smooth leather, supple and strong, and as her finger stroked its underside, which looked and felt like shot silk, his wing rippled beneath her touch.’ 

Picture by Lisa Shambrook

(This is an extract from my WIP…with a few alterations for 5SF and my own dragon art. Hope you like it!)