MidReal Story
Dragon's Destiny
Scenario: Fantasy story with a girl heroine who discovers she can into a dragon after her village is attack by a hard of dark creatures. Ensues a story that follows the hero's journey plotline
Create my version of this story
Seraphina Voss
wise elder of the village and Elara's mentor, relationship with Elara as a mentor, silverhaired and regal in appearance, wise and compassionate.
Liam Mercer
childhood friend and protector of Elara, son of the village blacksmith, tall with broad shoulders, loyal and strong.
Elara Thorne
the dragon girl, friends with Liam and mentored by Seraphina, petite with fiery red hair, brave and curious.
The first time I became a dragon, I was thirteen years old.
It was a day like any other.
The sun shone brightly in the sky, and the air was warm and sweet with the scent of blooming flowers.
I was sitting on the grassy hill overlooking my village, watching as the villagers went about their daily business.
I could see my friend Liam Mercer working in his father’s blacksmith shop, his broad shoulders glistening with sweat as he swung his hammer down on a piece of red-hot metal.
I could hear the laughter of the children playing in the village square, and the sound of the church bells ringing in the distance.
I closed my eyes and breathed in deeply, feeling at peace with myself and the world around me.
I had no idea that everything was about to change.
It started with a low rumbling sound that seemed to come from deep within the earth itself.
I opened my eyes and looked around, wondering what it could be.
The villagers had stopped what they were doing and were staring at each other in confusion, their faces pale with fear.
I awoke to the gentle rays of the morning sun shining through the window and dancing across my face.
I smiled and stretched, luxuriating in the warmth of the light and the softness of my bed.
It was a beautiful day, and I knew it was going to be a good one.
Slipping out from beneath my covers, I padded across the room to my wardrobe and pulled out a simple dress, a loose-fitting garment made of soft, lightweight fabric that was perfect for warm days like this.
I quickly changed and ran a brush through my long, fiery red hair before heading downstairs.
The wooden floorboards creaked beneath my feet as I made my way into the kitchen, where I found my mother cooking breakfast over the fire.
She smiled at me as I entered, her eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that reminded me of the smile of a wise old elf.
“Good morning, Elara,” she said.
“Did you sleep well?”
“I did, Mother,” I replied.
I pulled out a chair at the small wooden table in the corner of the room and sat down.
My mother set a plate of steaming eggs and crispy bacon in front of me before bustling over to the other side of the room to pour me a cup of tea.
I ate quickly, relishing the salty taste of the bacon and washing it down with sips of the sweet, fragrant tea.
When I had finished, I thanked my mother for the meal and slipped out the back door, taking a deep breath as I stepped into the cool morning air.
As I walked through our village, I greeted the other villagers who were already up and about, going about their business in the same way they did every day.
The baker’s wife was setting up her stall in the village square, arranging loaves of fresh bread and pastries on wooden shelves that she had carried from her home.
The children were playing in the square, their laughter echoing through the streets as they chased each other around and played games on the grassy lawn next to the church.
I smiled as I watched them, feeling a sense of peace and contentment washing over me as I continued on my path.
When I reached the edge of the village, I paused and looked out at the world beyond, taking in the breathtaking beauty of the land that surrounded us.
Our village was nestled in the heart of a great expanse of rolling hills and lush forests, with crystal clear streams winding their way through the landscape like ribbons of silver.
In the distance, I could see the mountains, their snow-capped peaks towering above the clouds like giants looking down on the world below.
It was a beautiful place, and I felt grateful to call it home.
Sighing contentedly, I turned and started back toward the village, my mind already beginning to fill with thoughts of what the day might bring and the things I needed to do to prepare for it.
As I walked, I passed by the blacksmith’s shop, where Liam Mercer was hard at work.
Leaving Liam behind, I made my way to the hill that overlooked our village, the same place I often visited for moments of quiet reflection or when I needed time away from everyone else.
The path up the hill was well-worn and familiar, and I followed it easily, stepping over gnarled roots and patches of wildflowers as I made my way to the top.
The hill was small but steep, and it only took me a few minutes to reach the peak, where I settled onto a large rock that sat at the very top.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, savoring the sweet scent of the flowers in the air as I listened to the sound of the birds singing in the trees around me.
When I opened my eyes again, I found myself looking out at the village below, its thatched roof cottages and cobblestone paths stretching out before me like something out of a storybook.
The village was nestled in a small valley surrounded by great oak trees, their branches stretching up to meet each other in an intricate web of green leaves that filtered the sunlight and cast dappled shadows on the ground below.
Beyond the village, the land stretched out before me, a great expanse of vibrant greens and rolling meadows that were broken up only by the occasional sparkling brook or shimmering pond.
It was a beautiful sight, one that never failed to take my breath away, no matter how many times I saw it.
I sat there for some time, lost in my thoughts as I gazed out at the landscape below, but eventually, the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the land and bringing an end to another day.
I rose from my seat on the rock and stretched, feeling stiff from sitting for so long, and then turned and started back down the hill.
It was time for me to head home and begin preparing dinner for my family.
As I made my way down the path, I heard a soft voice calling my name.
I turned, and to my surprise, I saw Seraphina Voss, our village’s wise elder, making her way toward me through the forest.
Seraphina was an old woman with long silver hair and a regal bearing.
She had been my mentor for many years, teaching me everything I needed to know about life in our village and training me in various skills and knowledge that would help me throughout my life.
“Good evening, Seraphina,” I said, smiling at her.
“It’s good to see you.”
“And you as well, Elara,” she replied.
She reached out a hand toward me, and I took it, allowing her to help me down from the path so that we could walk side by side back toward the village.
We made our way in companionable silence, walking slowly so that we could enjoy the beauty of the evening before we returned home for dinner.
The sun had almost completely disappeared below the horizon by the time we reached the village, casting a warm golden light over everything in its final moments of life.
We made our way back through the village square and up onto the hill on which I lived, before finally reaching my home.
As we stepped inside, I was greeted by a warm rush of air from the fire that blazed in the hearth.
My mother smiled at me from where she stood at a small wooden table in front of me.
Though my mind was much at ease with her beside me, questions still bubbled to my lips.
“What is it, dear?”
“Nothing,” I replied, shaking my head.
I had learned long ago that there was no point in prying, that Seraphina would tell me what she wanted when she was ready.
In the meantime, I would simply enjoy her company.
I smiled back at my mother, then turned and walked over to a small wooden table on which sat three chairs, my mother and Seraphina following behind me.
I turned back and took a seat just as my father entered from another room, carrying a few logs of wood in his arms.
He dumped them unceremoniously into a large wicker basket by the door before turning and taking his seat at the head of the table.
I smiled and then busied myself helping my mother with dinner, humming softly to myself as we worked.
The meal was simple but delicious—some roast chicken, fresh bread, and a few vegetables that my mother had managed to coax from our garden despite the winter chill.
We ate in companionable silence, only the sound of our utensils scraping against our plates breaking through.
After we had finished eating, my father rose and made his way over to a small side table, where he poured a couple of glasses of wine from a large jug.
He handed one to my mother, who smiled her thanks, before taking his seat once again.
My mother did not take a drink but instead rose from her seat and began to clear away our plates, carrying them over to a small washbasin that sat in one corner of the room.
I rose to help her, but she waved me away, telling me to sit and rest while she took care of everything.
I did as she bade me, but after a few moments, I found my gaze straying toward Seraphina, who was still seated at our small dining table.
She met my eyes with a small smile on her face, and I felt a sudden rush of affection for her.
I rose from my seat and walked over to where she was sitting, taking her wrinkled hand in mine and squeezing it gently.
“I’m glad you’re here, Seraphina,” I said softly, looking down at her with a smile.
She smiled up at me, and though she did not say anything in return, I could see in her eyes that she was glad as well.
We sat there in silence for a few moments before my mother returned to join us, taking her seat at the table once again.
She poured herself a glass of wine this time, sipping it slowly as she relaxed in her chair alongside my father’s.
I sat back down at my place as well, feeling warm and content in a way that was all too rare these days.
Seraphina took another sip of her wine before setting her glass down on the table and turning to look out through our small window at the sky outside.
As I watched her, a question suddenly popped into my mind, one that I had been wondering about for some time now.
“Seraphina,” I began, hesitating slightly.
“What was your life like before you came to live in our village?”
Seraphina turned to look at me, her expression softening as she did so.
