Recently, I made a post about a book I was planning to make.
I called the book Fire-Breathers, and posted a pilot chapter (which I will use as a prologue) for the story.
You all loved it so much!
Here’s the first chapter of the main story!
Fire-Breathers Chapter 1
The warm sun rose over the ocean blue, casting a brilliant glow on the Dragon City of Ordania. With the sun, Dragons, Wyverns, and Wyrms followed out of their nests and beds to occupy the streets and buildings.
One young Dragon, however, did not wake with the sun; the sun had followed him, for he had woken up during the late blue hour.
The young Dragon wore an unusual garment compared to his fellow civilians: a sheepswool hooded cloak. It hid most of his scales, but what could be seen was rare among his city. His legs, tail and wings had been splattered with blue, yellow, and purple paints. But what hid behind the paint was a beautiful, shining blood-orange set of scales, barely dodging the eyes of early-morning merchants and salesdragons.
He crept toward one building in particular; a grand structure with a chimney, strong oak front door and loads of display windows. A large sign read:
The Cheese and Crackers Factory!
Das Käse- und Crackerfabrik!
Come buy our cheeses, breads, pastries and crackers!
Kommen sie und kaufen sie unseren käse, brot, Gebäck und Cracker!
The disguised Dragon watched as a pale blue Dragon with sapphire earrings approached the locked door of the bakery, wielding a golden key to the hole.
As soon as the door was unlocked, the disguised Dragon sped inside, grabbing talonfuls of cheese and loaves of bread. The owner cried in alarm and dashed into the back of the counter.
“Stirb, du Nagetierdieb!” The owner growled, wielding a large obsidian knife, glowing with warmth.
The thieving Dragon ricocheting off the inner displays and around the owner, dodging each slash of the knife.
“Komm zurück und kämpfe wie ein echter drache!” The owner yelled angrily, waving his obsidian knife at the thief as he barreled down the streets.
The thief charges down heavily populated streets, dodging law enforcement and other thieves. He aimed particularly for a ghost street with nothing but an old, abandoned manor on the properties.
He whisked inside the gate and to the front door, carefully avoiding gaps in the stairs.
He held a talon to the old door, and pushed inside the dying home.
Inside, there were plenty of holes in the floor, claw marks on all surfaces, and plenty of torn drapes and other trash. The sunlight lit the room from an accidental skylight above the stairs, and old plants reached for it from their cracked clay pots.
A hydrangea tree grew through the largest hole in the floor, shading two Dragons and an egg from the sunlight.
“Welcome back, Forgren.” The older of the two acknowledged the disguised Dragon. She was skinny and pale, covered in dirt and rags. Her tail was heavily scarred. Her scales were a dusty denim blue, with long white spikes trailing her back. “What have you brought this time?”
“Mother, I bring fancy cheeses and breads from that expensive shop downtown.” The disguised Dragon lifted his hood to show a handsome face, with a long snout and beautiful dark blue eyes. His blood-orange scales glittered in the sunlight. “Hope you and Faen like them.”
The second Dragon, Faen, was a little dark red Dragoness with burns on her poor claws, torn wings and a long crooked neck. She clutched a small golden-orange egg to her chest, fiercely protecting it with her life.
“Mama said that the baker don’t like when you steal his foods.” Faen sniffled. “Why do we take them if he doesn’t like them?”
“Because it’s the only way we can provide, dear.” Their mother answered with a sad tone. “We wouldn’t if we had coin, but we don’t. Forgren has to steal so we can live.”
“Okay.” Faen reluctantly mumbled. She took a slice of parmesan cheese and a sliced loaf of cranberry nut bread. She turn away from her mother and brother to chew her cheese and bread.
“Mother, we can’t keep stealing.” Forgren chewed on his own slice of raisin bread and cheddar cheese. “They’re eventually going to catch me, and Faen is too young to steal. And who knows what Lord Vöken will do to me?”
Lord Vöken was the ruler of Ordania; a blue-blooded menace of a lord who hated disobedience. His executions were intense, and he wanted all criminals hunted down for punishment.
“We can only hope your father comes back to rescue us.” Their mother leaned back and laced her claws over a slice of whole grain bread. She chewed it politely, dejectedly watching her scarred tail sweep the long grass that grew beneath them.
Forgren and Faen’s absent father was supposedly very rich, and had only come back twice after Forgren was born to father Faen and the tiny egg in her arms. Neither had actually seen their father, but they hoped he would return to take them out of the city to his beautiful palace.
He was always too cold or too hot, their mother would tell them. He never stayed long and was quite hurried.
Eventually, night came to steal the sun that smiled on the poor family. Forgren waited until he was the only one awake, so he could fly through the skylight and gaze at the stars.
Before he could take off, he heard voices outside the manor.
“You think they’re in there?”
“Where else would they be? We check everywhere else!”
“Okay, I’m just asking.”
“On the count of three.”
“Got it.”
“One.”
“Two.”
“Three!”
The law enforcement burst through the doors of the manner, wielding spears and swords.
“Thief! You’re under arrest!” The officer who appeared to be in charge roared. He was a large, burly dragon with scales coloured forest green. His pastel blue eyes burned into Forgren’s own eyes. “Lord Vöken wants your head!”
“Forgren!” Their mother looked at him with pleading eyes. “Take your siblings and run!”
Faen leaped onto Forgren, still protecting her egg. With one last look at his poor mother, Forgren spread his wings and took off into the night skies.
hope you guys like it!