Children of Angels
Where the -@!# did my muse go?
Writer, dreamer, knight, shackled by entertainment . . . and people.
A face cruel and beautiful appeared above us in the bright afternoon sky interrupting our picnic. James and I hadn't had a moment to ourselves for months thanks to a sleep stealing tax audit and the one day when we are nestled against each other like two complimentary puzzle pieces instead of fighting over receipts, something bizarre happens.
When the face spoke it wasn't in any language I recognized but I understood it, though it sounded archaic to my ears. “Cursed are those that faileth in their duties to the first begotten of the dead. Forgotten sins hound the blood unto the last generation. Let those that survive judgment tremble in their rememberance and rededicate themselves to our purpose.”
What appeared next were older than the myths of dragon, these were primordial engines of destruction. Vast in their bulk, their winged machine-bodies blotted out massive chunks of the sky. Where their gaze fell, pillars of white fire erupted, melting everything to ashen glass.
James gripped my waist and trembled.
Prequels
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Comments (1 so far!)
Story prompt:
From Twitter, Jennifer Shelby writes, "They arrived in ships like dragons, breathing fire, and that is how we knew they'd been here before."
Who are they?
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ElshaHawk LoA
This is awesome; very descriptive. It reminds me of the first book in the Pern series where the dragon riders are upset because the humans have forgotten to tithe them.