The Chronicles of Dragon Collection (Series 1 Omnibus, Books 1-10) Read Online Free Page A

decided. Do you want to be a dragon or a man? Which is more important to you, Son?”
    It was a hard question to answer, and it shouldn’t have been. Among the dragons, I wasn’t so special, but among the people, I stood out. The women, smelling like blossoming rosebuds, running their delicate fingers in my hair, whispering words in my ear that would make a bugbear blush. I liked it.
    And the elves, when you came across them, were so pure and delicate in beauty. Their mannerisms were quaint, direct, their cores as strong as deep tree roots. A bit arrogant, though, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy humbling them from time to time.
    The dwarves, brash and bold, like my dearest friend Brenwar, were the fiercest fighters and stubbornest competitors of all. They were hardy, grim, and a little mirthful, and I found nothing but comfort among their kind.
    “Ahem.” My father interrupted my thoughts. “Do you really have to think about it so much? By now the choice should be clear!”
    I waved my hands up in front of me, saying, “Oh, no-no-no, Father. It’s dragons. I want to be with the dragons. It’s just that I find myself feeling so sorry for the others.” I lied to some small degree. I also wasn’t so sure I wanted to sit where he sat forever, even with all the treasures of the world at my feet. There had to be more to what he did.
    Father lowered his head all the way to the floor, his face a dozen feet from mine, hitting me with a snort of hot air. I felt like an insect when he said, “I’ve been in your shoes and walked the same path, and I know what you are thinking. You think like a man. It’s time to grow up and think like a dragon. Now, with all my heart and wisdom, it is time for me to go. Take care, Son.”
    He reared up, went around the throne, and melded into an enormous mural of himself that was painted brilliantly on the wall. All of a sudden I felt alone. His presence, for the first time in my life, seemed gone. It was clear that he was serious about my scales, and I’d better be getting serious as well.
    I spent the next few hours shuffling through the piles, loading a sack with anything I thought might help me, knowing full well it was up to me, no matter how many tricks I had in my pack. I departed, taking one last long look back at the mural of my father and wishing that I was on the other side of the grand painting as well. Brenwar awaited me, leaning against a wall, arms folded over his barrel chest, bushy black brows raised with alarm.
    “You live!” he said, more in a grumble, but a surprised one.
    “Ha! You didn’t really think he’d kill me, did you?”
    “I would’ve.”
    “For what?” I demanded.
    Brenwar slammed my scabbarded sword into my chest.
    “For stealing.”
    “Borrowing,” I said, correcting him. “Besides, it was mine to take anyway.”
    “I know.”
    “You did?” I said, surprised. “But how di—”
    “Just keep walking, chatterbox. I’m ready to go. I feel so blasted small in this place. And there’s no ale or dwarves…”
    Brenwar kept going on, but I couldn’t listen. My mind was too busy wondering if this would be my last time at home or not. My scales! I had my doubts I could do it, but determined I was, and a good bit deflated, too. How could I ever be a great dragon like my father? I didn’t even have one scale.

 

    Brenwar Boulderguild
     

 
    CHAPTER 6
     
     
    Brenwar’s stout legs were too slow to keep up with my long-legged pace, so we rode on horseback. Otherwise he’d complain the entire way. I wasn't usually in such a hurry, so I normally preferred to walk, but I felt a degree of haste these days. Northward we went, toward the five great cities.
    The Human city of Quintuklen was filled with magnificent castles and shining towers that overlooked vast rich and reaching farmlands.
    The dwarven city of Morgdon was a mass of stone blocks and metalworks, like a dwarven-made mountain, grim and impenetrable.
    The elven city,