Release date: June 12, 2015
Subgenre: Epic fantasy
About The Wanderer:
The Silverleaf Chronicles follow the life of Silverleaf, a
dragonmaster who was born into a world without dragons, and doomed to
die as a madman alone in the wilderness until a young woman enters his
life, and a mysterious army marches across the land destroying all in
its path.
Excerpt:
Winter was coming and all the signs foretold it would be a
brutal one, but it was not just the weather that concerned me. There was a change
in the air and, by the feel of it, an unwelcome one. It was like a persistent
feeling of being watched, even though you know you are alone.
To the north the Wanderer sat just above the horizon, blood-red
even in the afternoon light. Of all the stars in the heavens, there was no more
serious omen of ill fortune than an early rising of the Wanderer in the northern
sky. On the last occasion this occurred, it heralded the end of the era of
dragons. I shuddered as I considered what it might mean this time.
I sighed and pulled up my hood as I approached a small human
town known as Farborn. It was a rural place on the outskirts of the settled
lands. The people here would be hard but accepting of drifters like myself. If
luck was with me, I could settle here until I earned enough to buy winter
supplies and get out before the madness struck again.
I was born too late, a man out of time. I am a dragonmaster
by birth, but no dragons remained by the time I was born. Dragonmasters like
myself who never bind to a dragon are doomed to live out a cursed life,
destined eventually to die alone and insane.
In the era of dragonkind, this would not have come to pass.
I would have been born among a large clutch of dragons, and one of them would
have chosen me before I was a fortnight old. Instead, I was born alone in the
wilds among the forest people, forever doomed to be incomplete.
Generations have lived and died since the last dragon was
seen in the skies of Ferrin but, unlike the dragons, dragonmasters were born among
forest people and continued to be born regardless of the lack of dragons to
bind with. We were born into a life of misery and perpetual exile.
My clan, the People of the Seven Oaks, had seen the birth of
many dragonmasters and tried to find ways to help us and keep us stable, to no
avail. The last great war had rendered dragonkind extinct and doomed their partners
to a cursed life.
As I entered Farborn, humans came and went in its streets
doing whatever people did to keep themselves busy in a town like this. They
paid no particular attention to me as I headed down the main thoroughfare.
Farborn was typical of the towns that bordered the wilds. It
had no walls and no real garrison. Retired warriors and other stout folk formed
the town guard. Dirt roads meandered seemingly at random though the town. The buildings
were old and mostly made of wood. A few older buildings were of stone and those
were mainly official offices of some kind.
Had Farborn been closer to the capital the roads would have
been cobblestoned and there would have been great walls around it, patrolled by
soldiers of the crown. All of that took money, and the human king of these lands
spent his money fortifying the southern borders where he had enemies to guard
against. Out here there was no one to worry about; Farborn was close to the end
of the world as far as anyone else was concerned.
Amazon
About Vincent Trigili:
Vincent, father and husband of nearly two decades, holds degrees in both Math and Computer Science. In addition, he has published an astronomy journal, numerous articles, poetry and other works.
He got his start in writing fiction as a small child, losing himself in the worlds he dreamed up in order to escape the doldrums of normal life. Now, using his formal education and extensive career experience, he excels in creating fictional worlds of depth and rich fantasy, while maintaining a foundation of reality based on science and technology.
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