Virtus Draconis Review (Edí Álvarez)

Cover art for “Virtus Draconis: Blood Price” by Edí Álvarez.

Okay, here’s another book review. Can’t promise I’ll do too many more of these, but when I joined a Discord server in which the author of this book was a fellow member, I figured I might as well read it. 

Virtus Draconis is advertised as a fantasy novel with neurodivergency as a major theme. According to its on-site description, there are plenty of neurodivergent characters, and the main protagonist, Claude Virtus, is heavily implied to be autistic. I was quite excited to read the novel, seeing as I’m autistic myself. We need more representation in fantasy fiction. That’s just the truth.

While I can’t say I’m exactly a fantasy connoisseur these days, nor do I write fanfiction anymore, reading this book still felt highly liberating. In the midst of how chaotic these last few months, and especially the last week, have been, I needed some escapism and Virtus Draconis was it. 

In any case, the novel begins with Meredith, the despotic princess of the kingdom known as Shaddhai, declaring war on the peaceful country of Anthropia. I will say that this segment felt rather eerie and surreal, because I read this book at a time when President Donald Trump, as much as I hate saying those words together, might be about to declare war on Iran. But it’s not the author’s fault that I purchased and read his novel at a particular time, so I won’t get too much into that.

Speaking of Shaddhai, I wondered (and still wonder) if the name of the kingdom was meant to portray religion in a negative light, since its leader is presented as the villain. I’ll admit that I’m no expert on theology, but I know that Christian musician Amy Grant has a song called “El Shaddai” - that name is associated with Christianity. And, whether we like it or not, religion in general is very often associated with rigid dogma that’s keeping us from our full potential as human beings. I’m not saying that’s true in all cases, but it’s the way many young people see religion these days. 

Another aspect of the story I greatly appreciated was the sheer amount of worldbuilding that must have gone into writing it. From the black blood venom that poisons Claude at the beginning of the novel to the unusual combination of magic and technology (Clarke’s laws notwithstanding), I can tell that the universe is fleshed-out. If I asked the author a question about his universe’s magic system that wasn’t directly addressed in Book 1, I’m pretty confident he could give at least a decent answer.

Virtus Draconis is not very long as novels go; its on-site description on Amazon says it would be 201 pages in print form. According to the author’s website, he started creating this universe in 2012, whereas the first book in the series was published in 2023. Honestly, I admire the dedication, because I certainly don’t have enough of it myself. What the novel lacks in length, it makes up for in terms of worldbuilding.

I’ll get into a few of the things that I didn’t love about this novel. First, I’ll offer a caveat, which is that I still enjoyed the book and am glad I read it. These are just a few nitpicks, places where I felt Virtus Draconis did not live up to its full potential.

First of all, this book, according to one of the sites it’s sold on, is advertised as containing a lot of references to the 1990s. Now, I’ll admit that most of these references would have flown right over my head - I was born in 2000 and celebrated my 25th birthday last week. But I didn’t notice a lot of references to that decade.

Now, is it possible that the references were there and, as mentioned above, I just didn’t notice them? Of course. If you were a ‘90s kid, you might like this book even more than me. 

Additionally, the book has a content warning for graphic violence. And I want to be clear: There’s nothing inherently wrong with violence in fiction. I’m not one of those people who wants to ban Call of Duty for fear that it causes real-life gun violence, because I understand that sane people see real life and fiction as two separate realms. It’s okay to do things in video games that you’d never do in real life, yadda yadda yadda. I don’t find that controversial whatsoever.

My issue with the graphic violence is how casually it’s portrayed. In that regard, it felt almost like that show Squid Game. Characters die sudden, gruesome deaths, and it’s sort of glossed over a few times. Maybe this is a function of how much these characters have been through - Claude and his brother Mordred did lose their parents. Even so, I’m convinced that if I witnessed that in person I would be scarred for a very long time. Like, these characters are not vampires. Death is not a joke.

The third and final critique I have is that, for a novel that heavily emphasizes having neurodivergent representation, these traits didn’t seem to be explored as thoroughly as they could have been. Was I expecting Claude to have a dramatic “I’m autistic” moment like Eva on Survivor? Not necessarily. But I feel like we weren’t shown that aspect of his character very often. 

I’m aware that not every autistic person is the same. Many of us stim, but some of us don’t. Some are obsessed with train schedules, others video games. I get it. But a little more detail about how Claude’s position on the autism spectrum influences his life and the challenges he’s faced would have been welcome. 

In any case, back to the positives. Remember when I said that thanks to the name “Shaddhai” being seen negatively, I thought this novel would take a firm anti-religion stance? Well, I stood corrected pretty quickly.

While Queen Meredith’s desire for conformity (which many real-life religions are associated with in today’s world, at least if you spend lots of time online) is one of the central points of conflict in Virtus Draconis, faith isn’t exactly seen as a bad thing in the story. It is another character’s faith, after all, that saves Claude’s life in the opening chapters after he is poisoned.

 I think this novel draws a fascinating distinction between hard-line religious dogma, which Meredith represents, and a more productive form of faith, which is what the novel’s protagonists represent. Characters frequently evoke God, and judging by the author dedicating this book to “the Lord”, I would imagine that this distinction is quite important. At least, that’s the way readers are meant to see it. At a time when the real world doesn’t seem to have much nuance, Virtus Draconis has it in spades.

Speaking of nuance, I loved that the antagonists aren’t all “cartoon villains.” With the possible exception of Meredith, they’re not evil just for the sake of being evil. Some of them even have tragic backstories that I’m not going to spoil here.

 In a story with satisfying villains, you don’t have to agree with their methods (in fact, you’re not meant to), but it’s always preferable to understand why the bad guys make the decisions they do. And ideally, the “why” is something other than a variation of “busting makes me feel good.” 

That being said, one character who eventually defects from the antagonists gave an explanation that didn’t make sense. When asked why he didn’t defect sooner, he said he was loyal to his land. And as crazy as it might sound, but it reminded me of people in real life who defend Robert E. Lee and other leaders of the Confederate States of America. Such people say they were fighting for “state’s rights” and “the South” as opposed to acknowledging that the Confederates wanted to keep owning black people as property. 

Again, perhaps this reason wasn’t supposed to be convincing, and I don’t even dislike the book because of it. I just found it notable. 

In future volumes of this series (which there are supposed to be; the second book is scheduled to be released in August or September 2025), I would like to see the negative traits associated with Claude’s autism to be more pronounced. I realize that the book is probably already written at this point, but I can still hope, can’t I?

Virtus Draconis is written by one Edí Álvarez, originally of Puerto Rico. From what I understand, it was originally written in Spanish, but the edition I read was the English translation. Like most mainland Americans, I am monolingual. I took a few years of Spanish in high school and one semester in college, but like most people, I didn’t retain it in the long term. If you want someone in my family to teach you Spanish, ask my brother.

In all seriousness, the book is available for purchase on several eBook shops. Personally, I would advise you to choose any platform besides Amazon, because it’s ideal to support local businesses, including bookstores, whenever possible. We need bookstores more than ever these days.

Although Virtus Draconis is by no means perfect, I recommend it to anyone who wants to read a fantasy novel with anthropomorphic animal characters (or, in more casual terms, “furries”). If you don’t love furries, but still want to read a book that explores themes of mental health and neurodivergence, I still recommend it. Just manage your expectations on that front.

I would like to thank Edí Álvarez for giving me a source of escapism during this turbulent week. I feel like I’m going to need a lot more of that over the next three and a half years, but having sources of enjoyment like this help reinforce for me, in the words of a rousing love song, that “I want to live, not just survive.”

If the four people reading this want to thank me for writing this review, I would ask that you pay it forward by purchasing and reading it for about $4 USD. It’s pretty good, not much money, and it supports an indie author, so why not?

Thank you for reading.