The Last Moon Dragon

PSA to idiots on the internet who think it's ok to plagiarise, this story has already been reposted once by a user on wattpad and I (OP / author) reported them immediately. Don't copy and paste other people's stuff. It's against the law. Think of your own idea before stealing an 11 year old's.

CAUTION: TWO YEAR OLD DRAFT VERSION. FULL OF SPELLING MISTAKES AND OTHER GRAMMATICAL ERRORS. "The kingdom of Heriven isn't exactly the best place to live. Ruled by a twisted King and a power-hungry Baron, the poor exist to serve the rich. Attacks from other kingdoms have finally ceased over hundreds of years, but only because of a bigger problem. Other places have infestations of lice and vermin, Heriven has dragons. Although there has not been a dragon sighted in the kingdom for over a decade, and the people are at ease, it won't be long before it all changes, and a legendary dragon shall make its reappearance...This was voted best Fantasy Movella 2012


20. A Witch?


Ocello looked at the two boys in desperation, but in her heart she knew that she had been the only one to hear the voice. It seemed the same as the one she had heard before she had fallen - and Ocello was now certain that it had to mean something.

"A voice?" asked Fletch. His voice was raspy and he was definitely in shock.

Pike helped Fletch to his feet, but kept his silver-grey eyes on Ocello.

"Didn't you say you heard a voice," he started, "Just before you fell from the castle window?"

Fletch's eyes widened.

"When you went to the well," Ocello explained, feeling rather guilty. She wished she had told both Fletch and Pike together; they might think that she preferred one over the other. You may wonder why she was thinking things like this; but it was in Ocello's nature (as a Princess) to be polite.

"Well," croaked Fletch. "It obviously means something,"

"What did it sound like?" Pike enquired.

"Soft, and...ande whispery," replied Ocello. "It was definitely female,"

Fletch stared at her. "Maybe it was the witch," he whispered.

"What?" said Pike, looking round at Fletch. "A witch?" he said, raising his eyebrows.

"You should know," said Fletch exitedly. "The one who lives in that purple tent. She heals young children with her magic,"

"Of course," scoffed Pike. "That's not a witch, Fletch, just some traveller."

"'That' has been there for a tent made out of velvet?"

Pike turned away, and started to walk.

"Where are you going?" called Ocello.

"Home," Pike replied. "I should've been back hours ago."

Ocello puled the hood back over her head. She highly doubted there was a witch...but...if there was, and she confronted it, the voice would probably go away...

"Fletch," said Ocello. "Take me to the velvet tent of which you speak,"

"Alright," Fletch shrugged. "I's probably a witch in there...that's what all the villagers say..."

"Can't hurt to have a look," said Ocello. "Remember, those guards are still around somewhere,"

Fletch shuddered. "Don't remind me,"

"Why was Pike so eager to leave?" asked Ocello interestedly.

"Oh, he can't handle all this - abnormal - stuff. His life is routine."

"Isn't yours?"

"It would be," Fletch smiled, "Except I run down from the castle every day to see Pike, catch Princesses who fall from castle windows, almost get slaughtered by the royal guards and get attacked by dragons dailyi."

Ocello laughed as they made their way back into the village, towards the purple tent.


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