The Song of the Stars (Original Story)

For all the people who wanted an original story of Zora's...Here it is!

This is the true beginning. I realize that I am now changing up the entire idea of the story, but this time, it's original. I'm not borrowing elements from other movies, books, TV shows, etc. So, here goes. . .

Chapter 1


Long ago, before the Earth was anything more than a single rock in space, there was another place, far closer to the sun. The planet was named Silimaostro, and several civilizations rested upon it's green grasses. One was Evesseainduil, a peaceful peoples, who remained clear of the tragedy that flew around them, as vultures do to often in this modern world.

The second was Cerce'ohta. Barbarians, in every sense of the word. I suppose they were the ones who started the war to end all wars--of that world anyway. They wore the scalps and hair of those they murdered as capes: the longer the cape, the more they were worshiped by their peers.

The third group was from Jierdarven. From the outside, it would appear to be a normal place. But the inside was much different. It was ruled by a queen and a king. They had two children, according to much of their people. But a select few knew otherwise. A third child of the two rulers had been born, against all laws that had been created when the city was first established. The child was given to the servants in the kitchen and was named Zora. But not before the queen saw the "deformity" on the child's back. Two scaly limbs were folded near to the small body and it was begged of the kitchens to keep the wings hidden from the king, who happened to be a cruel man. And so, it was done.

The child was moved from the kitchens to serve as her sister's handmaid when she was of five years of age. From there, she learned from scribes and musicians how to write, read, sing, dance, and play a large array of instruments. From there, she was moved to the horse stables when she turned ten. When she became fifteen, the dragon stables were revealed to her eyes, and her wings were growing, itching for a form of flight. And she found who she was. Our story begins there, in the time in the morning before the sun rises, in the stables of dragons.

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