Absolom

The city of Granitport was as hospitable as it ever is, though my legs ache quite a bit more than they did on my last walk out of the city. Ten years hasn't really changed things all that much, but after one hundred and fifty years of making these little trips in my old traveling cloak the small changes really start to add up. Their understanding of magic has progressed beyond what I originally thought them capable of. I have watched this city grow from the insignificant fishing village it was so many years ago, into the blooming metropolis I see as I look back over the hills that lead to its front gates. The fresh tracks on the path I find myself on today, combined with the extra traffic stumbling through the city's main road tells me another caravan has only just arrived. Likely more scholars coming to learn new magics from the great sorcerer, Absolom, whom rumors told them was dwelling within, or traders looking to purchase whatever precious gems the city’s counsel didn't already send with the dwarves.

“I hope the new mages don't mind waiting another 15 years or so,” I mutter to myself with a small chuckle, continuing my journey towards the woods west of the city. I always find it quite interesting how little of me the people of Granitport seem to remember, despite my contributions to the city’s incredible evolution. Even the elves running the shops I have frequented over the last century and a half pay little or no mind to the old man who is single-handedly responsible for the magical revolution that led to the city's meteoric rise to prominence within the Zibian Empire. I often wonder where they would be, had I not taught them to harness the power resting in the leyline running almost directly through city center.

As these thoughts that so often return to feelings of superiority continue running through my mind, I am interrupted by the sounds of what is unmistakably a human child. The grating echo of its wails and sobs unfortunately worms its way deep into my skull with such ferocity that I find myself forced to maintain the visage of Absolom while investigating the source of said wails. Lo and behold, an abandoned child, male, no older than two, likely from the caravan that went by these woods earlier.

“Ah, it would seem no matter how much they advance, they can never escape their own cruelty. Come with me, little one.” A wave of my hand and a casting of CALM settles the small boy enough for him to stumble through some barely comprehensible common, that I can only take to mean he is understandably terrified at the prospect of being left alone and too clumsy to defend himself. A few soothing words, a subtle casting of SLEEP, and the boy will be none the wiser as he is being flown on the wings of the dragon the ancient texts called Absolution. The transformation is quick, spreading my wings as if fanning out an old cloak. Dispelling the illusion of Absolom and leaving behind a cloud of dust concealing my departure to the west.

Upon arrival to my not so humble home nestled deep within the coastal cliffs a week's march, but an hour by dragon's wings, west of Granitport it is time I craft suitable dwellings for this new companion of mine. He carries an odor unrivaled by anything I have ever encountered in my 800 years, so if he is to stay here, accommodations are to be made so that he may learn to clean himself. Due to a lack of foresight, which I shall blame on my old age, I have overlooked that I am the only one present to teach him such things. As well as speaking properly, writing… and reading…and muscle coordination….I’m sure I don't need to elaborate further.

I am unsure if the speed at which this boy seems to be growing is a result of the lifetimes i have seen ignited and snuffed out, or the consequences of living in such close proximity to the open leyline within my caverns, but his progress is undoubtedly impressive. Much in the way humans watch a kitten grow and familiarize itself with the environment around it, I have watched the boy I've come to call Amicus grow. Seeing his change from a small fleshy creature stumbling over the smallest pebble to a fairly capable young man has been quite interesting. His intellect advances further each day, and I am unsure if his strength or his height is growing faster. The child is steadily growing through adolescence, with any luck his voice will stop cracking while reading spells.

Unlike his kinsmen, he is entirely unbothered at the sight of my blackened scales or teeth that rival his body in size. If anything, the boy is fascinated with the differences between he and I. The glint of my scales is ever unchanging while his face begins betraying the beginning wisps of facial hair, and the hair growing from his head becomes ever longer. His thirst for knowledge has become insatiable, always asking for metals to craft ever-shrinking contraptions for purposes magic could be applied to with far greater efficiency. The boy's hands are never idle, always moving from spellbooks, to sword or bow practice, to his devices. As my exhaustion grows, so too, does his stature and self-sufficiency. When the time comes for me to sleep again, it seems I need not worry about Amicus and the garden he planted outside my caves.

While the growing amicus toils, I shall sleep.

Another decade goes by, another uncomfortable shift wakes me from the ten years slumber I enjoy so regularly. A metallic clang seeks my attention as memories of the human boy, Amicus, return to the forefront of my mind. I find myself pleasantly surprised to see the boy; in clothing he seems to have crafted himself, tinkering away as he so often did what feels like not so long ago, though his increase in size seems to suggest otherwise. Passing interactions as I go about sorting an agenda for the next few years show the boy has grown in maturity as well, it may well be time I travel to Granitport with company. The change will be nice, though I am assured his questions will be unyielding as ever given his behavior in the days since my awakening. His understanding of magic has already progressed well beyond that of most humans, it may even rival the elves nestled in their citadels in the continent to the South.

“Amicus, it’s time. I journey to Granitport to grace the citizens with my knowledge once again. You will come with me, it’s past time you join your own kin.”

In the 15 years I cared for the boy before sleeping, I had never seen him move so quickly. As he ran from end to end of the caverns gathering all the clothing he could carry and trimming his newly grown beard, I couldn't help but feel a sense of pride knowing I could raise a human better than one of their own race. Upon arrival on the eastern edge of the forest, not so far from where I first found the boy, a quick shift to the body so many within Granitport’s walls have come to know has the two of us well on our way with the city’s people unaware as they have always been.

It seems as long as I am accompanied by Amicus, I can travel within Granitport almost completely unnoticed. No less than half the city seems to be completely enamored with the boy, which will make establishing him here that much easier. I do worry about his interacting with so many women, the city is densely populated enough, they don't need him making it any worse. With any luck the city’s mages can keep him enraptured in further studies, though they may not be able to pose an intellectual challenge for him. I suppose that is the risk I take in giving a human all the knowledge a dragon can bestow in 15 years.