Draconis' Bane by David Temrick Page B

fire and a wardrobe in the corner to the
right of the dresser at an angle.
    On either side of the
bed was a pair of windows, each one opened in the middle and had a
clever latch that kept them together and shut. Opening one of them
he noticed there were storm windows on the exterior that could be
pushed out and locked with a sturdy hook and bobbin made of cast
iron. He took a deep breath, noticing a faint humidity in the air.
The window sill felt damp, hinting at a light rain.
    Looking out from his
window he could see the town below as it extended out a hundred
yards to the massive assembly of docks. In the setting sun Tristan
could make out dozens of sails on the horizon coming in and leaving
the docks. The roofs of businesses and houses in town were all
similarly tiled; the rain troughs were made of the same material
and emptied into little barrels at the back of the buildings he
could make out in the dusk.
    The wooden barrels
must have had no bottoms in them because none of the barrels seemed
to have any water in them and it appeared to have just rained,
perhaps the water was used to flush away the towns’ sewage into the
bay? How Tristan knew this was a mystery but he assumed that some
of his more mundane memories were beginning to surface. Simple
things seemed to come quite easily, but complex emotions like the
ones he felt for his mother and sister seemed to be very alien to
his experience.
    The roads in town
seemed to be made of crushed rock packed down and sturdy as wagons,
filled to overflowing with produce, meat, construction materials
and cloth, rolled along being pulled by up to four draft horses.
The teamsters hauling the cargo wore what seemed to be a kind of
uniform with blue short sleeved shirts, grey trousers and wide
brimmed matching grey hats. Some wore sandals and boots while
others went barefoot, presumably retired sailors who were so used
to working barefoot that they were more comfortable that way.
    Poverty didn’t seem
to be an issue, all the people Tristan could see from his third
floor window looked well fed and happy, not much of a surprise
given his father’s character seemed to be that of a man that cared
deeply for those he was charged with protecting. As Tristan hung
his head out farther to get a better view of the town, he noticed
that it extended farther to the right and left of the harbor than
he originally thought. He decided that there must be a hundred
thousand people living in this city if the town extended the same
way to the south. The sun was setting off to his right and as it
dipped below the surface of the water he swore he could make out
what must have been a huge dragon flying south.
    He shook his head
with a smile and turned his attention back inside the room. Tristan
noticed a desk, made of the same black stained wood, to the right
of his wardrobe. He approached it began looking through the books
that littered its surface. There was also an ink well in a circular
cutout closest to the wall with a few quills in a metal cup next to
it. He looked up at the wall in front of the desk found a map of
the continent and overlapping the ocean to the south of the map was
an enlarged map of the country of Vallius, which he took to be a
confirmation of where he was.
    Tristan studied the
map closely, trying to memorize names of places, though after the
stress of the day he quickly abandoned the pursuit and sat down.
Some of the books that littered the desktop were bound in leather
while others in some form of cloth. He picked up a book with
several dog-eared corners and began to skim through it.
    He was quickly
interrupted by a small knock at the door. Tristan closed the book
he’d been reading, a historical text on the surrounding countries,
and walked over to the door. He was still very unsure of what to
expect and his distrust of people in general caused him to barely
open the door and peek outside.
    “Good evening my
Lord.” The man said happily.
    The servant, Tristan
assumed, wore