# April 2016 - LM - The Sun and the Dragon



## kilroy214 (Apr 2, 2016)

*

LITERARY MANEUVERS
*
*The Sun and the Dragon*​
The winner will receive a badge pinned to their profile and given a month’s access to FoWF where you’ll have access to hidden forums and use of the chat room.  

This is a Fiction writing competition, and the prompt is 'The Sun and the Dragon.' Pick your own title, write about whatever you want, as long as it's related in some way to the prompt. 

 The Judges for this round are: *Smith, kilroy214*, and *amsawtel**l*
 If you want to judge and I left you out, send me your scores by the deadline. If you're listed here and don't wish to judge, let me know at once (please).

 All entries that wish to retain their first rights should post in the LM workshop thread.
 All Judges scores will be PMed to *kilroy214*. 

All anonymous entries will be PMed to *kilroy214*.


*Rules*






*All forum rules apply.* The LM competition is considered a creative area of the forum. If your story contains inappropriate language or content, do _not_ forget add a disclaimer or it could result in disciplinary actions taken. Click *here* for the full list of rules and guidelines of the forum.
*No Poetry!* Nothing against you poets out there, but this isn’t a place for your poems. Head on over to the poetry challenges for good competition over there. Some of us fiction people wouldn’t be able to understand your work! Click *here* for the poetry challenges. Play the prose-poem game at your own risk.
*No posts that are not entries into the competition are allowed.* If you have any questions, concerns, or wish to take part in discussion please head over to the *LM Coffee Shop. *We’ll be glad to take care of your needs over there.
*Editing your entry after posting isn’t allowed.* You’ll be given a ten minute grace period, but after that your story may not be scored.
*Only one entry per member.*
*The word limit is 650 words not including the title.* If you go over - Your story will not be counted. Microsoft Word is the standard for checking this. If you are unsure of the wordcount and don't have Word, please send your story to me and I'll check it for you.






*There are a few ways to post your entry:*






If you aren't too concerned about your first rights, then you can simply post your entry here in this thread.
You can opt to have your entry posted in the *Workshop* which is a special thread just for LM entries. You would put your story there if you wish to protect your first rights, in case you wish to have the story published one day. Note: If you do post it in the workshop thread, you must post a link to it here in this thread otherwise your story may not be counted.
You may post your story anonymously. To do so, send your story to the host of the competition. If you wish to have us post it in the workshop thread then say so. Your name will be revealed upon the release of the score.



Everyone is welcome to participate. A judge's entry will receive a review by their fellow judges, but it will not receive a score. Please refrain from 'like'-ing or 'lol'-ing an entry until the scores are posted.

Judges: If you have any questions, feel free to ask, or please see the *Judging Guidelines*. Following the suggested formatting will be much appreciated, too. 

*This competition will close on:*

Friday, the 15th of April at 11:59 PM, GMT time. 

Scores would be appreciated by Thursday , the 28th of April. 

Click here for the current time.


----------



## joshybo (Apr 3, 2016)

*The Myth of Dragon (649 words)*
by joshybo​


----------



## Sleepwriter (Apr 5, 2016)

Mestariens  (633 words)


​


----------



## Book Cook (Apr 6, 2016)

*A Brief Encounter* (650 words) 

http://www.writingforums.com/thread...d-the-Dragon?p=1985546&viewfull=1#post1985546


----------



## rcallaci (Apr 8, 2016)

*Dragon Night---Moonlight (650 words)*

Dragon Night---Moonlight 

In the lost caves of Dragamor, deep in the belly of the great mother, sleeps Morgalena, one of the last of the MoonFire dragons. She dreams of moon harvests and sun battles, of fire nights and Sun’s bright burning lights.  She floats amongst the dream clouds remembering when the Sun and the Moon went to war against each other over the forbidden love between a SunFire and MoonFire dragon. Morgalena weeps as she remembers being wrapped in the wings of Gabradon, her lover. She wails as she recalls the devastation wrought on her kind all because she fell in love with a red dragon rather than a blue. She opens her eyes and feels the pain. Her baby dragons were ready to be born into a brave new world.  

.......​
The Sun raged at Moon and said,

_“This union is anathema. It’s against the nature of things. Sibling to sibling is the natural way. She beguiled my dragon child with her wily and sultry ways. His sister-wife is inconsolable. I demand that you hand her over to me where she will be extinguished in due haste.”
_
The Moon replied,

_“Why should my dragon daughter die for following her heart’s desire while your dragon son receives only a reprimand? Her brother-husband understands and forgives her transgression. Leave her with me and I will deal with her. If you don’t agree to that then send your dragon child over to me where I will drown him in my moon-blood. Only then will I hand over my child to you.”_

_“How dare you defy me!” _said the Sun. _“Her belly is growing twins. A Sun-Moon birth would be catastrophic. They would be too powerful for us to control. Her death is necessary to retain the balance of power while my son’s death is not. Hand her over to me now, if you don’t I’ll destroy every one of your wretched children." _

The Moon always resented and feared the Sun’s power. He was arrogant and condescending. His light was too bright; it needed to be dimmed a bit in order for the Moon’s beloved sister, Earth to thrive. So when Morgalena fell in love with Gabradon rather than discouraging it, she let the romance blossom. She knew this would require a great sacrifice. She would war with the Sun and lose her children to his might. But a new order would arise; Sun-Moon Fire Dragons capable of controlling the Suns light would now dominate and be guided by the soft songs of the Moon.  

The Moon sent Morgalena and her brother-husband, Telreseil to the caves of Dragamor, deep in her sister’s belly. The Moon told Morgalena it was her sacred duty to be the matriarch of the new order of Sun-Moon Fire dragons as well as mother to MoonFire dragons. She was to couple with Telreseil so that the Moon can once again hear the roars of her children. They both agreed, they both did love each other but more as brother and sister than as lovers. But the greater good demanded that they be lovers as well. 

......​
_“What’s this?”_  The Sun bellowed. To his utter horror a pack of Golden Dragons descended on his children. They killed many and subdued the rest. He found himself crippled. His dragons were responsible for replenishing his light and with many of them no longer alive only half of his light now shined. He thought he destroyed that apostate, Morgalena. Somehow that bitch Moon must have hidden her. Now the unthinkable was a reality. He was diminished. 

Daybreaker and Nighthawk, Magdalena’s first borne searched for their father. They found him and his sister-wife, Melori, fleeing from the Golden Horde. They blocked their path, smiled and said,

_“Do not be afraid. You are our kin. Mother will be happy to be reunited with you, Father, and our Uncle will find your sister-wife quite attractive _...”


*The End​*


----------



## sed (Apr 9, 2016)

*Caucasian Male, 27*

WC: 649

I don't know if it's triage or the exam room, but someone's cutting through my clothes beneath a blinding white light. I'm aware of the pain. It's everywhere and nowhere as three pastel scrubs lift me from a stretcher and plop my flaccid body onto a bed with wheels. I think I hear someone screaming. 
_
Where's the morphine, Doc? _I wonder before I'm back beneath a full moon on a humid country night. Drunken muffled shouts fill the star-filled sky above me as I smoke my cigarette in the dark. I don't like people. Why am I here?

She's laughing with friends as she passes by the decaying shed I'm leaning against. Her dirty blonde hair flows out over her tattered leather jacket as they walk past me towards a rusted Firebird in the gravel driveway. Before she ducks into the car, her eyes find me in the darkness: they're going for breakfast; I should come. I fire up the bike and leave, my cigarette left to smolder amidst the abandoned farm's overgrown patches of summer thistle.

The wind against my helmet is deafening as I follow the weaving Pontiac down empty country roads between rows of half-grown corn stalks. The light from my Triumph's old headlamp shakes above the potholes as I navigate the uneven asphalt in the darkness. At the nearest intersection they veer into the opposite lane and I pull up beside them. 

Her window is down and she's smiling from the passenger's seat before I find myself lounging atop a sagging couch with the lingering taste of spaghetti sauce still fresh on my tongue. From the corner of my eye I can see the gray smoke from my mother's cigarette as it rises towards the apartment's stucco ceiling. On the screen in front of us a black and white Kim Novak hands Jack Lemmon a burning match, "Maybe they think we're burning state secrets," he says.

"Or little witches," Kim laughs before the striped awning above them engulfs in flames. Her laughter still echoes through my mind as I pull the bike up to a busy diner beneath an early morning sky. The Firebird sits empty by the entrance and I pull on heavy glass doors before making my way down a row of hunched backs atop stainless barstools. The smell of grease and the ring of silverware fill the subdued air as I walk past her group and find a table.

I order a coffee and as the waitress leaves, the blonde slides into the bench across from me. Her arms are bare and I can see her dragon tattoo as it stretches out across the table towards me. She asks for a lighter and a cigarette before leaving with a thanks. I hear her group laughing above the restaurant's murmured conversations behind me. I don't like people. Why am I here?

One refill later, I leave a five on the table and make my way down the bistro's emptying aisles. I meet her by the doors as she exits the bathroom. 

"Can I borrow a lighter?" I ask. 

"What's it to you?" she says.

I shrug as I look out the glass doors, "Everything, nothing."

From behind me, she whispers in my ear as her hand places the lighter in mine.

"Thanks," I say and begin to smile as the morning sun becomes a blinding white light again. The pain is back and I can hear a man's voice at my side amongst the urgent activity around me. 

"We need you to agree to an emergency operation. Do you understand?"

I nod slowly.

"Do you consent?"

I shake my head.

The voice hesitates, "You understand that if you waive this operation, you're probably not making it through the night?"

I nod again. _Thanks Doc, but I think we're done here. _

"You're just like all the rest," she whispers.

I begin to smile. _Thanks._


----------



## kilroy214 (Apr 9, 2016)

Its Song is the End-Music of Man
by anonymous


----------



## kilroy214 (Apr 9, 2016)

Endriago
by anonymous


----------



## Ephemeral_One (Apr 11, 2016)

The Sun and Dragon

	Sweat is the body's natural answer to heat. It's supposed to cool you down and make the day survivable. All it seemed to accomplish was to make my shirt heavier. And I was plenty burdened as it was by this oversized fuel tank strapped to my back. Then again, thanks to being stuck with the flamethrower, the guys up front had to cut me a path through the jungle foliage.


 	Seconds ticked by like hours as my unit, the 229[SUP]th[/SUP], trudged through another day. Our current task was to check up on some supposed doctor who was obsessed with the locals. The fighting up north had gotten the upper brass into a twist over an ambush on the base. A few minutes and a lot of bullets after the idiots came pouring out of the jungle, we mostly just had to scrounge up extra shovels. Even had to ask some of the locals if they had spares when they came to claim the bodies.


 	Still, cause of that we had to go on a march to a remote pile of straw. We had to evacuate the doctor for their own safety, which meant butting heads with someone who is too smart for their own good. Though, next to the heat and noise of the jungle, was the lack of anything to do beyond march. They train your body to handle it but your mind is your own, you know?


	We reached the village in the afternoon. The doc was the easiest person to pick out. All we had to look for was a covered crotch. When the Lieutenant explained the situation, the response we were expecting kicked in. He started yelling and making accusations. The Lieutenant continued to try and convince the doc to get moving. It was a two day hump back to base and the more time we spent out here, the bigger the target we were.


 	That's when the first shot rang out. Some scared, scrawny little shit with his daddy's pistol began firing from one of the huts. The Doc tried to call out to the kid but he'd stirred up a hornet's nest and the others joined in. Guns pulled from gods know where appeared in the native's hands in a heartbeat. Pulling the doc along by the shoulder the Lieutenant told me, “Dragon the lot of 'em!”


 	Orders were orders and I pulled on my mask. Kicking open the fuel line, I then clicked on my torch. Setting the first hut alight, the one who started it fled and went down first. More fire reached the same effect. One desperate fool tried to charge me with some sort of dagger. He jumped into the Dragon's maw and was nothing but charcoal by the time he got anywhere near me.


 	That's when Private Kilroy lost his head and went charging after this one guy. He probably never even noticed the kid with a grenade. No one had ever shown the kid what to do with it cause he was still clutching the damn thing after he pulled the pin. Kilroy had lost every card game he'd ever been a part of and his luck held up to the end.



	When the shooting finally stopped the Lieutenant told me, “Give it a kiss of the sun.” He was always the artistic sort. He actually paints landscapes when he's off duty and is pretty good. He's sent one he painted of the lake near base back to my home for me. We finished putting everything to the torch and began our walk back. You'd think that damn thing would have been lighter for the fuel I'd used but I swear it was heavier on the walk back. Despite his shouting, the Doc didn't say a word on the trip back. It was the nicest gift he could have given us.


Private 2[SUP]nd[/SUP] Class,

 Marshal Wiloughsby


----------



## godofwine (Apr 11, 2016)

*Lights in the sky – By Godofwine (Language, 648 Words)*


----------



## ArrowInTheBowOfTheLord (Apr 11, 2016)

*The Bee Dragons (650 words)*

I’m licking the stickiness off my fingers because I just had a lollipop. I’m six so I don’t like my fingers to be sticky. Uncle is sitting next to me, in the grass nearby the flowers. His hair is golden like the sun. His name is Andre, but he’s just Uncle to me.

Right now he’s holding a bumblebee on his pinky finger. It’s crawling around and around his fingertip but it isn’t stinging him at all. “When I was younger,” he says, “I used to pretend the flies and bees and butterflies were little tiny dragons. Now, I think they really are.”

I look at the bumblebee critically. “It doesn’t look like a dragon,” I say.

“How do you know? You’ve never seen a dragon.”

“Dragons aren’t fat and fuzzy,” I insist. “And they aren’t so little.”

“Come inside,” he says. “I’ll draw you a little fat dragon.”

I don’t want to come inside, so I change the subject. “Uncle, your hair is the color of the sun.”

He squints up at the sun. “Hmm. I suppose, a little bit. But the sun is white. My hair is more blonde. Someday my hair will be white, like the sun.”

“I’ve seen a picture of the sun in a book. It looks like a fireball.”

“Does my hair look like a fireball?” He laughs, and squints at the sun again.

“Mama said to me not to look at the sun.”

“She’s right,” he says, and scoops me up, laughing.

“Have you ever seen a dragon?” I ask.

“Yep—.” He gestures to the flowers, where the honeybees are swarming.

“Don’t be silly! I mean a real dragon. One flying high up in the sky.”

“I saw a kite dragon once.”

“What’s a kite dragon?” I say, wondering if he’s telling the truth or just being silly. 

“Kite dragons are colorful dragons about the size of a breadbox. They have fluttery tails and people like to keep them as pets. They hold their leashes while the dragons fly up in the wind.”

“Uncle, I think you just mean a kite. You saw a kite.”

“No, it was a real dragon. There are all kinds of dragons, everywhere. Snake dragons have no wings and slither on the ground. Plane dragons are so big, and they swallow people up, but they’re nice about it and take them places. Clothespin dragons—”

“Uncle, you’re being silly.”

“No, it’s true. You see dragons, for real, if you just look.” He sets me down on the yellow-green grass, and sits beside me. 

“Everything’s a dragon to you,” I say.

“Maybe.”

There’s a long time where none of us talk, and it’s just the sun, and the grass, and the flowers waving in the wind, and I’m happy even though he’s being silly. 

“What about the sun? Is the sun a dragon?”

“Oh, yes.” He turns his head up to the sky. “The sun dragon is the best dragon. He’s pure white and glows so brightly that we can’t look at him. He only looks like a ball, because he’s all curled up and asleep. But someday he’ll wake up and come down to the earth and we’ll see him.”

“Won’t he be so bright he’ll burn up the earth?”

“I think the earth will already be burned up when he comes. He’ll come to make it good again. He’s a very good dragon.”

I pause a moment, thinking. “Do you know what, Uncle?”

“What?”

“Most of the stories you tell are so silly. But the one about the sun dragon doesn’t seem so silly. I think it’s true.”

“They’re all true.” He picks me up and starts toward the house.

“You’re the smartest even though you’re silly,” I say.

“Well, thank you.”

The flowers are waving at us and they are the prettiest in the world. The honeybees are swarming around, and they look like little tiny dragons.


----------



## kilroy214 (Apr 12, 2016)

The Scent of Ginger
by anonymous


----------

