The Chronicles of Amberdrake by Jones Loren K

Author:Jones, Loren K. [Jones, Loren K.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Tags: swords and sorcery, dragons, Coming of Age, Fantasy, Adventure, magic, New Adult, mage
ISBN: 9781606191040
Publisher: Twilight Times Books
Published: 2019-03-31T21:00:00+00:00

Adventure 5

The Miscalculating Daemon of Port Royal

SNOW FLURRIES BLEW DOWN THE side of the mountains as Amberdrake glided on the wild currents and drafts. He did not flap his wings to fly. Rather, he rode the up-drafts that were stirred up by the wind swirling about the mountain faces. The mountains were devoid of life this high up. Even the hardy mountain sheep kept to the lower elevations at this time of year.

Years flowed past for Amberdrake now. He was becoming more of a dragon and less of a man. Though he had the body of a fully-grown male dragon, his personality was still that of an adolescent. And an adolescent human at that. But that was changing with each passing season.

Walking the world as Drake was taking its toll on Amberdrake. Humans age much faster than dragons. He was gaining the maturity he lacked far faster than might have been expected. He was also gaining knowledge of his original species.

Humans are, without a doubt, the strangest creatures that inhabit Dracana. A person who professes to be a pacifist might turn and attack for no reason. A vicious barbarian raider might stop and admire a flower. A friend might stab you in the back, and an enemy bandage your wounds. Puzzling.

It had been ten years since he had left Estwick. Ten years without becoming human. Ten years without the feel of another being close to his skin, touching in a way that dragons do not touch.

The land to the west of the mountains was lush and verdant in a hundred shades of green. Forests stretched for mile upon mile with bright green meadows scattered about like islands in a dark green sea. People were few in this land, and Amberdrake was somehow relieved. Chasing bandits was getting boring. He needed something new. Something challenging. Something that would get him some simple human companionship.

Weeks passed before he saw a city. Perched on the banks of a large river near where it emptied into the Antinian Sea, it was among the largest cities he had ever seen. He decided to drop in for a time and live the life of Drake Standralson once again. But first, he needed some money.

The presence of a large city almost guaranteed the presence of thieves. All he had to do was look. Landing on the edge of the city late in the night, he transformed. He did not, however, transform into Drake. He once again became the daemon. Hunting thieves was not a job for a frail human.

The city was not walled, which made his entrance easier. Stalking the nighttime streets, he searched for those who preyed on their fellow men. In alleys and darkened dives, he found them, and the slaughter began. Twenty-five men fell to his claws that night, and he casually stripped them of any coin they possessed. The irony of him stealing from thieves was lost on him. Daemons do not have a conscience. As the sun rose, he became Drake. His clothes were not as fine as he was used to, but he didn’t have as much coin in his pouch either.

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