Ancient Dragons
- Reads 159
- Votes 3
- Parts 6
Ongoing1h 0m
Last published Thu, Nov 26, 2020
I have had a rough life here in America. I barely passed college and I have had no luck finding and keeping a job. And I definitely haven't found any love here. I can't believe things turned out like this.
Until everything changed.
I woke up in the middle of the night to shuffling footsteps outside my 1 bedroom apartment. I waved it off thinking it might just be someone taking their dog out. I couldn't fall back alseep, so off to the kitchen I went to grab a glass of water. I gulped down every drop and set the glass down carefully. All of the sudden I felt a sharp pain in the back of my head.
Everything went cold and dark.
I woke up in a gigantic room with walls littered with scrolls and paintings of dragons. One painting caught my eye, two dragons twisted around each other. I snapped out of it, remembering I was somewhere unfamiliar. Was I abducted? Then I realized that there were maybe 20 people standing with their hands folded in front of them. They were standing in front of a beautiful red carved door. It had Chinese scripture carved into it.
I stopped and took a deep breath. I can't be across the world. Back in Asia...
A man shifted his body weight at the foot of the bed I was in. I looked at him. Dark hair, amber eyes, and a small smile that didn't look genuine.
"Welcome home, Princess".
______
______
This is the story of how Lyra's life turned upside down all because of one King and his motivation to change the world.
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chinesedragon
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Some people find their destiny in a blaze of glory. I found mine in the musty corner of a university library at 11:47 PM on a Tuesday, which pretty much summed up my entire life. "Just one more shelf," I muttered, hefting another stack of returns onto the cart. My lower back screamed in protest-a reminder that twenty-five was apparently the age when your body started filing formal complaints about everything. "Then I can go home, eat leftover Thai food, and pretend I have a social life." The basement archives of Ashford University Library smelled like old paper, dust, and broken dreams. Okay, maybe that last part was just me projecting. But after three years of working here, cataloging books that nobody read, living in a studio apartment with a radiator that clanked like a dying robot, and watching my college friends get engaged while I couldn't even get a second date... yeah, I was allowed a little melodrama. My fingers traced the spine of a leather-bound volume that definitely didn't belong in the returns pile. Too old. Too ornate. The cover was deep crimson-not the faded red of age, but vivid, like fresh blood under moonlight. Gold filigree spiraled across it in patterns that seemed to shift when I wasn't looking directly at them. "What the hell?" I breathed, pulling it free. The book was heavy, substantial in a way that modern books never were. No title on the spine. No library stamp or catalog number. Just those hypnotic gold patterns that made my eyes water if I stared too long.
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