Golden sunlight filtered through the trees above the little temple of Ulustrah. The morning dew still clung to the grass, and a slight breeze carried with it the scent of nearby flowers. Thayle sat on a stone with legs folded and a large silver basin in her lap. She meditated by staring into the mirror-like surface of the clear water contained within. It was part of her practice to spend the early morning gazing into the mirror-like surface in communion with her goddess. It was a special moment when her heart and mind were open to the power of Ulustrah, and she rarely missed it.

After prayers, she lingered out front, watching the townspeople go about their morning chores. She had the perfect vantage point from her little temple on the hill and could see much of what happened below. From here, she first noticed the two strangers and began to watch them with interest.

She couldn't see their auras from this distance, but she didn't need that to know they were connected. The dark-haired woman with reddish skin was obviously a southern warrior maiden. They were uncommon in her area, but the road south eventually reached their land. She carried one of their signature black bows, laced with feathers and the long curved knives her people often favored. Her clothing was typical of her kind, made mostly of patchwork leather and furs in earthy colors. Her upper arms and legs were left bare to reveal well-defined muscles shaped by careful training and work. Her people were rumored to be able to run for a full day without rest, and Thayle could see why.

The man was harder to place. He was shorter but only by an inch and wore a large black hat with a wide brim. He kept that hat tipped, so the brim hid his face as if trying to avoid anyone getting a good look at him. A dark brown cloak covered his upper body, concealing his armor. If not for the skin on his lower face, she would not be able to place him at all. From here, he appeared to be fair-skinned and probably of northern descent.

The two strangers methodically moved about the town, never speaking to anyone for more than a few moments before moving on. It was apparent they were conducting a search, ass they moved from building to building, questioning people and stealing glances inside.

Thayle decided to wait at the door of her little temple. If these strangers were searching the town, they would eventually come to her. When they finally began to climb the hill, she sat on a stump, gazing into her bowl.

“Greetings, travelers,” she said in a warm tone without looking away from the water. "Blessings of Ulustrah on you."

“Greetings, priestess,” Tavis said with a sweeping bow as they came to a halt a dozen paces away.

Thayle cast a glance, taking note of the body language as well as the colors of their light. The woman was turned ever so slightly to the side, her feet planted and hands resting on hips. It was a stance that left her ready to move in the blink of an eye. All she could see of the man's face was his smile, a sort of mischievous grin that hinted at some hidden secret. His right arm” was folded into the bow, but the left was held wide and loose. There was the unmistakable bulge of a sword under his cloak and perhaps a dagger on the other side. It was obvious these were experienced fighters and stayed at the ready even in a quiet little village such as hers.

Putting the bowl aside, she smiled and looked between them. Now they were close enough, and both had faint auras of cold blue light. They were neither upset nor relaxed but alert and ready. She could also see the slow exchange of light as tiny droplets broke away and drifted to one another. They were firmly committed to one another and deeply in love.

What can Ulustrah do for you on this fine day?” Thayle asked and studied their response.

“We are looking for a friend,” the woman said as she studied Thayle right back. Her voice was calm to avoid sounding threatening. Her facial features were sharp and well defined, a common trait among her people. What stuck Thayle the most was the look of strength and pride in her vivid green eyes.

“He is a priest like yourself, but of Astikar,” the man added, drawing a glance from his companion. “We were told he would be in this village.”

“Thayle leaned back and shook our her long raven black hair. She smiled and swiped a clump from her face as the two waited. It was all part of her game, letting the question hang in the air to see how their aura reacted. She gazed at them, letting her mysterious angled eyes linger first on one, then the other. She had to measure them carefully as Gersius said to tell nobody about him or Lilly. Were these two strangers friends of Gersius? Or perhaps they hunting him?

“We may both serve a divine power, but there is little in common between Ulustrah and Astikar,” she said, intentionally avoiding the question.

“But have you seen him?” the woman asked sternly. Her aura twitched, pulsing with red that quickly faded. She was irritated by the game and did not like having to restate the question.

“Do you know this priest's name?” Thayle asked as she probed for more information.

The two exchanged looks and then locked their gaze on Thayle. She saw the red of anger flare again, and this time it was both of them. It lasted only briefly before quickly fading away, but it was clear they were growing impatient. Thayle shifted her hands, making them ready to channel if need be. She would dare to ask another question and see just how much they knew.

“Was this friend of yours traveling with anybody? Perhaps someone special?”

Now auras streaked with red that wavered in a dance. The question had struck a nerve, and they were becoming alarmed, even aggressive.

“He may have been traveling with somebody,” the man replied as he raised a hand to tip the brim of his hat back. His smile was gone, and Thayle was able to see the amber hue of his eyes for the first time. Paired with his frown, he looked threatening, and this gesture was clearly meant to show he was serious. “We do not know for sure.”

Thayle watched the aura as he made a direct statement and saw a dark ring radiate out. The man was lying. They knew Gersius was traveling with somebody. Still, it didn't prove if they were friends or foes, but the tension was mounting. Thayle decided to abandon the game and get to the heart of the matter. She was known for being blunt, after all.

“Tell me, are you friends of this priest?” she asked and waited to see if they would lie.

“We are comrades in arms,” the man said smoothly while the woman barked out a short, “yes.”

Both auras glowed briefly with the white light of truth. She breathed a sigh of relief as it was no longer necessary to keep toying with them, but she couldn't resist one more poke.

“So, you're looking for Gersius,” she said bluntly, a slight smile curling her lips. She watched the subtle movements in alarm as their body language suddenly changed. Hands crept slowly for the handles of nearby knives while the man's fingers twitched ever so gently in a dance. She knew immediately that he was a weaver and this situation was about to go very badly.

“You know Gersius?” the dark woman asked as she moved a step closer. Thayle realized she was trying to get within striking range as a finger caressed the handle of a knife. Her aura changed as well, becoming ringed in a halo of red hinting at aggression and anger. The man’s aura was very different as it started to contract, growing thinner and seeming to fall inward. She was well versed in the language of auras and knew full well she was channeling a weave.

“I am Thayle priestess of Ulustrah, and I know your Gersius,” she said and boldly stood up. Her hands went out to before her, fingers twisted in sign. “You will stop your weaving this instant!” she shouted to the man before turning her gaze on the predatory woman. “And if you take another step toward me, I will consider it an attack.”

“You are a priestess of the harvest, not combat,” the dark woman said. “What threat can you be to us?”

The red light of anger consumed the woman's aura, and Thayle began to sing the prayer of warding under her breath.

“Perhaps we don't need to find out?” the man replied as he turned his gaze on his angry companion. He put his hands up so Thayle could see that he was no longer weaving. “We are his friends, and we are looking for him. We received a letter not two days ago telling us to meet him here.”

He flashed with the light of truth, and Thayle felt deeply relieved. So these were the recipients of the letter Gersius wrote. Fool man didn't think to tell them who she was? The least he could have done was tell them she was a friend. Thankfully the man's aura was calming, but the woman was a blend of reds. She would be far happier beating the answers out of Thayle.

“Gersius wrote that letter here in my temple,” Thayle replied while still ready to use her ward. “I am the one who sent the rider that delivered it.”

The man breathed a sigh of relief and put a hand on the angry woman’s arm.

“I think we can trust this one,” he said, then turned back to Thayle. “I am Tavis, and this is Ayawa.”

“Why didn't you just come out and tell us that in the first place?” Ayawa asked, the annoyance dripping in her voice.

Thayle didn't care for her tone but didn't want to antagonize the woman further. She explained how Gersius was insistent that she tell no one of his passing. He was afraid that people were looking for him and wanted to keep his presence a secret.

“And then we show up looking for him,” Tavis said in an understanding tone. “Ayawa, you can relax now. You look as tense as a fully drawn bow.”

“We are not playing a game,” she shot back. “Gersius should have told us there was a friend here. How do we know we can trust her? He made no mention of her in the letter and told us to speak to nobody about him.”

“Gersius has a lot on his mind, and it probably slipped it,” Tavis suggested as he took his hand away.

“That is careless, especially for Gersius,” she insisted, but her voice was softening. The blue light returned to her aura, but it was still streaked with red. She was calming, but the process was slow as her concern registered in the light.

“I am sure he had his reasons,” Tavis argued. “Maybe he intended to be here before us so we wouldn’t need to make contact with the priestess.”

“He told you he was coming back here?” Thayle asked, finally relaxing her hands.

Tavis turned to address her and explained that the letter said he would be here this very day. He suggested that something might have delayed him, and perhaps he was still on the road.

“Did he tell you why he was going to Whiteford?” Thayle dared to ask. The two exchanged worried glances indicating they were afraid to reveal too much. “I already know he was ordered there by his Father Abbot,” she added while folding her arms.

“Then why did you ask?” Ayawa barked.

“I wanted to see what you knew,” Thayle replied as she stared the proud southern maiden down.

“Umm, ladies,” Tavis interjected. “Perhaps it would be a good idea to compare information?” The two women let their stares linger a moment longer then Thayle turned away and took a relaxed stance.

“He arrived with a friend,” Thayle said as she thought of Lilly. “They stayed one night here in my temple. He wrote the letter, and I sent it early the next morning. It was sealed, and he did not wish me to know the contents, so I honored his wishes. He and his friend left shortly after and headed for Whiteford. He was bothered by something and afraid that people were looking for him. He warned me not to tell anyone he had been here. I attempted to pry into his reasons for going to Whiteford, but he was in no mood to discuss it.”

Tavis rubbed at his chin as he worked out the details. “It isn’t like Gersius to be so secretive.”

“Are you kidding?” Ayawa interjected. “He intentionally hid the route he used for his march and told only the Father Abbot the details. We don't even know for sure where he was going.”

“But this?” Tavis replied. “From what the priestess says, it sounds like he was bordering on paranoia.” He walked a few steps as he pondered the details. “The rider took a full day to reach us, and it should have taken him a full day or slightly more to reach Whiteford. So he must have intended to be there no more than a single day and then have a day to get back.” He glanced to Aayawa to see if she wanted to dispute his logic.

“We traveled two days to get here,” she pointed out.

“So one day for the letter to reach us. Two days for us to get here. He said he would be here three days from when he sent it. That's today, and we are here right when he told us to be here.”

“He must have been delayed in the city,” Ayawa suggested. “We should wait for him as long as we can.”

Tavis looked worried as the frown on his face deepened. “He told us to wait no longer than two days. If he doesn’t show up, we are to run and hide again.”

“He should have gone straight to Calathen,” Ayawa growled. “He would be beyond Westbridge by now.”

“The letter said he was ordered to Whiteford first,” Tavis reminded. “You know how Gersius is. He is a man of duty, and he follows orders.”

“Yes, he is,” Thayle interrupted. “But why would the leader of his order, knowing full well that Gersius might have a dragon, order him to travel farther away from the place he needs to go?”

“He told you he had a dragon?” Tavis asked in surprise. “Did you see it? How big was it?”

Thayle was shocked by his questions. It implied that Gerisus had told them about the dragon but not Lilly. They had no idea she was in human form.

“I only spoke with Gersius,” she said. “I never saw the dragon. He kept it hidden.”

“But he chose to tell you about the dragon he was trying to keep hidden?” Ayawa asked with an accusing tone.

“I am a priestess of Ulustrah, and he wanted my help. I wanted to know why, and he found it very difficult to lie to me.” That took a little of the mistrust out of the woman's eyes, but not all of it.

“Gersius never could lie very well,” Tavis agreed with a grin.

“He doesn’t have your skill for it,” Ayawa snapped while throwing him a glare.

“Oh, the daggers you hurl at my heart,” he responded while placing a hand on his chest.

Thayle watched the little battle of words and marveled at the exchange of light mirrored in their auras. These two were inseparable, and their light was feeding one another.

“So Gersius told you two to meet him here?” Thayle asked when they were done. They nodded, and Tavis even produced the letter to show her the exact wording of it. “Well, he isn't here, and by all accounts, he should be.” She couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong and paused to make sure they were both listening. “Gersius has his dragon and an obligation to go straight to Calathen, bus his leaders order him away from it.”

“What are you getting at?” Ayawa asked as the red of irritation returned to her aura.

“Motivation,” Thayle answered as her concern grew. “What is the motivation in dragging him away from the place he needs to go? I don't know much about it, but by what little I gleaned from Gersius, the war isn't going well. So why would anybody want to delay the prophecy?”

Tavis thought over her words but ultimately shook his head. “I can't believe there is any wrongdoing in this.” He turned to Ayawa for support, but the look on her face was like a storm about to rage. “Ayawa?”

“We need to get to Whiteford,” she said in a commanding tone.

“We need to wait for Gersius,” Tavis urged as he held up the letter. “He said to wait here.”

“When has he ever kept us waiting?” Ayawa asked as she stared at him. “He should have been here by now, or at the very least sent another letter to update us.” She turned away and paced as if troubled by a chaotic thought. “The priestess is right. His fool order knows full well what the situation on the front is. They know what Gersius is trying to do and what the prophecy says. Why would they be delaying it? For that matter, why is the Father Abbot in Whiteford, and what force of brothers did he bring with him?”

Tavis stumbled for an answer and had to admit that most of the brothers were already on the battlefield. Temples all across the region had been reduced to minimal staff, and the city of Calathen was almost empty of their presence. All that was left was the acolytes and the personal bodyguard of the Father Abbot.

“And the Raven Guard,” Ayawa said with an angry curl of her lip. Thayle wasn't aware of who or what the raven guard was but the mere mention of their name caused Tavis and Ayawa to flare with red.

Tavis blew out a whistle of frustration and turned to Thayle. He asked her if she was familiar with the raven guard, and she admitted she was not. He sighed and explained that the Raven Guard was composed more of mercenaries than priests. They were drawn from less savory sources or fallen priests given a special pardon by the Father Abbot. They acted as an independent arm of the order of Astikar, answering only to the Father Abbot and handling the orders more unsavory business.

“Well, we know the Father Abbot is waiting for him in Whiteford, but I can’t imagine they were able to pull men from the war to act as guards,” Tavis reasoned. “If he needed guards, it would have to be the ravens.”

“And who knows the prophecy as well as the Father Abbot?” Ayawa insisted.

“Nobody does,” Tavis answered. “He is the only one allowed to read the original tome.”

“And he is the only one who knows the exact details of Gersius’s quest. He more than anyone else knows what will happen if Gersius returns with a dragon,” she pressed.

“What are you implying, woman?” Tavis balked as her words became more dire.

“I think she is right,” Thayle interjected.

“What are you implying, women?” Tavis corrected with a slight smile.

Two women with raven black hair folded their arms and locked eyes on Tavis. He suddenly felt very uncomfortable and held up his hands in defeat.

“Fine! We go to Whiteford, but I still can’t believe the is any cause for concern.”

“I'm coming with you,” Thayle said, causing them both to turn on her.

“You aren’t invited,” Ayawa stated.

“Then I will go alone,” Thayle replied and ignored her objection.

“Priestess, we will need to travel quickly,” Tavis interjected to try and be diplomatic.

“I have a horse,” Thayle said and headed for the door of her temple.

Tavis watched her go for a moment before turning to Ayawa with a shrug.

“We leave in five minutes!” Ayawa shouted as Thayle vanished into the building. She waited a moment, then turned on Tavis, her annoyance apparent on her face. “You should have told her she couldn't come!”

“You already made that abundantly clear. Nothing I had to add to was going to stop her,” Tavis said defensively. They locked into an argument that lasted several minutes before the mysterious priestess reappeared.

She wore a shining mail coat with a slight green-blue tint. Over her shoulders and chest were metal plates of solid green. Her upper arms were mail, but the lower arm was protected by thick leather gloves and a small metal plate. Likewise, the legs were protected by leather with small plates strapped over the top. She wore green knee-high boots that looked well-traveled. In her left hand was a round wooden shield painted with the emblem of a plow and bundle of grain. She held a wooden shaft as long as a leg in her right hand. Both ends of the staff were capped in metal and covered with rounded spikes. Her hair was tied back with a green cord to keep it out of her face. Over her shoulder was a pack of soft leather, and at her waist was a stout belt and several pouches.

“Well,” Tavis said with a broad smile. “I have to admit I am surprised.”

He was not alone in his surprise as Ayawa looked Thayle up and down with a frown painted on her lips.

“What kind of harvest do you need full armor for?” she asked.

“This isn’t for the harvest,” Thayle said as she adjusted the strap of her pack. “I wear this when I negotiate marriages.”

“A wise decision. We could have used your help with ours,” Tavis jested and earned a withering glare from Ayawa. “Oh, don't give me that look,” he protested. “You know very well it would have helped. I think you broke that poor priest's arm.”

“Shall we get going?” Thayle asked as the two looked ready to continue their argument.

Tavis tipped his hat down with a nod as Ayawa rolled her eyes and headed for the road out of town. It was obvious she was annoyed by the situation and not at all interested in bringing Thayle along.

“A glorious start to what is almost certainly to an inglorious end,” Tavis commented before following after her.

“Do I need my horse?” Thayle asked as he headed off.

“We are walking,” he replied and waved for her to follow.

Thayle ran to catch up and fell in beside him as Ayawa took them through town and onto the road south.

“So, how do you plan to travel at speed then?” she asked, reminding him of his earlier comment.

“Well, Ayawa will almost certainly run ahead. After all, she is rather good at that,” he replied with a mischievous grin. “But I think I can manage something to speed things along for you and I.”

Thayle didn't like the look he gave her, so she asked him what he meant. He smiled wider and stopped to throw open his cloak with hands raised in the air. She was finally able to see what was hidden under that cloak and was somewhat surprised. He wore no armor but carried two matching short swords. His clothing looked to be finely made with metal buttons and sharp stitching. He wore a gray shirt that buttoned down tucked into slightly darker pants. He wore a relatively simple belt but seemed to be using it more to carry his swords than his pants. His boots were black but had a curious red hem with a small knife tucked into each. She noted several other knives hidden about his belt and even his wrists. This was a man who knew how to fight but preferred mobility to armor.

She watched as he began to work his fingers while producing a steady tone with his voice. She could his aura twisting into a pattern as he gathered the energy into a weave. Both hands danced in a gentle motion, stitching that energy together as a faint blue glow began to circulate between them. He held the single tone the entire time, feeding the weave until completion. With that, he reached out and touched Thayle on the shoulder. She felt a rush of tingling energy race through her body and down to her toes.

“What did you do?” she asked while twisting to inspect herself.

“I infused us with a small amount of magic,” he replied.

“And this small amount of magic does what?” she inquired as he tried to be evasive.

He smiled and described the weave, telling her that it would make her and all her equipment lighter. She asked why that would be of any use, and he suddenly dashed off while saying it was to help her run.

Thayle didn't understand, but Ayawa was already far ahead, running at a strong pace while Tavis raced behind, widening the gap between him and Thayle. She tested the ground with a foot but felt no different. With nothing to lose, she began to run and was immediately shocked by how easy it was. She hardly felt the exertion as the muscles pumped at a near full run. It was as if she was skipping on the air and carrying nothing but a feather as she raced down the road.

The three of them ran like a dragon was chasing them, hoping they were wrong about their suspicions. Perhaps they would find Gersius coming the other way or discover he had been unavoidably delayed. Whatever they hoped to find, one thing was certain, none of them had any idea what to expect.

Dellain walked into a space of shadows and darkness that carried the unmistakable scent of suffering. It smelled of oil, smoke, blood, and burnt flesh. It was a windowless space hidden under the keep and used only as a warren for rats. A few lanterns now hung on the barren walls providing meager illumination. Most of the light came from a large copper basin filled with burning coals. It cast a dismal orange glow that flickered from the flames dancing on the surface. Where columns supported the ceiling, the fire created long shadows that split the light into pockets. It was a dismal space made all the more unpleasant by the heat produced from hours of those coals burning.

In the center of this forgotten place sat the Father Abbot. He reclined comfortably in a plush chair with a small table set beside on which was a bottle of wine and a half-eaten cake. He looked almost relaxed as he leaned back in his chair, cupping a wine glass with one hand. His eyes were focused ahead, and a slight smile curled his lips. He took a leisurely sip and let out a gentle sigh as Dellain wondered if he was celebrating.

In sharp contrast to his comfort was the man who hung on the wall before him. Leather straps painfully tied his wrists to rings on the ceiling. He hung limply by those tight bands that twisted the hands that had long ago gone purple from lack of circulation. The orange light highlighted the muscled chest that was a patchwork of bruises, burns, and raised welts. Blood streaked his skin, pouring from bleeding wounds where broken ribs had come to the surface. It ran down his legs and pooled on the floor for the rats to drink. It was a scene of absolute suffering the likes of which only a priest could inflict.

Dellain was almost hesitant to approach, but approach he did and came to stand beside the Father abbot.

“Has he revealed anything yet?” he asked when the Father Abbot failed to acknowledge his presence.

“Nothing,” the seated man replied and took another slow sip of wine. “He has refused to reveal the dragon's name, even when we started breaking his ribs.”

Dellain shook his head. Gersius was a fool of the highest order. A man blinded by dedication who honestly believed it was better to die in honor than live in disgrace.

“I knew he was stubborn, but why endure all of this for a dragon?” he asked.

The Father Abbot let out a slight laugh and finally glanced to Dellain.

“He has given the beast a vow on his to honor to Astikar. He promised never to reveal her true name.”

Dellain couldn’t understand why Gersius would have given a dragon such a promise. He glanced at the suffering man but couldn’t feel an ounce of pity.

“Then he's a bigger fool than I thought,” Dellain spat. “Why would he give the dragon such a promise?”

“He believes the dragon would not have revealed its name unless he made the vow,” the Father Abbot replied with a shake of his head. “He has even gone so far as to limit the binding to a year and a day.”

“Why?” Dellain scoffed in disgust. “He has a dragon bound to his will. He could use it to conquer the empire. Why would any fool limit his control?”

The Father Abbot swirled his win as he nodded in agreement. He explained that Gersius felt the dragon would rather die than be bound. He offered the vow of secrecy and the limitation to the binding to win its trust. He has no intention of keeping it. He reasoned that all he needed to do was return to Calathen to unite the empire. After that, the dragon could go home.

“And now he refuses to tell us the dragon's true name?” Dellain asked.

“It would appear not,” the seated man said and set his glass aside. “He has proven to be quite accustomed to pain.”

“Then what do we do next?” Dellain asked, knowing full well they needed the name.

The Father Abbot looked to him again and asked if the dragon had been brought into the city? Dellain nodded and explained that it had been brought in late in the night. The magic chains worked perfectly and allowed him to drag her worthless carcass across the countryside.

“We had to drag it through the city gates and hid it in the stables behind the keep,” he reported. “It took a few of us with whips to keep it moving. We also had to gag it. The beast wouldn’t stop sobbing. It cries like a little girl.”

“What kind of dragon did this fool find?” the Father Abbot mocked.

“Don't worry, it will have some real fight in it when I am done training the beast,” he assured the Father Abbot. “I will break it of this whimpering, or I will keep giving it something to cry about.”

“You will have to do more than that,” the Father Abbot corrected. “If Gersius won't give us the name, then the beast will have to tell us itself.”

Dellain smiled in approval. He fancied another chance to listen to the dragon sing.

“What about him?” he asked, gesturing to the suffering form hanging on the wall.

The Father Abbot looked to the wall in disgust. “Brother Gersius has abandoned his post and lost all the men entrusted to his leadership. He also tried to hide the dragon we begged him to find for us. When we finally found him, he refused to turn it over to the order so we could save the empire. He even went so far as to threaten me, calling on a hammer of Astikar to strike me down.”

“Sounds like a long list of offenses,” Dellain said with a smile.

“I am afraid an example must be made,” the seated man said. “I can't allow the brothers to think I am weak or that I tolerate such flagrant disrespect. To think he abandoned his duty to Astikar to keep the dragon for himself.”

Dellain stood by and listened, enjoying every cruel word. Gersius's foolhardy heroism had finally caught up to him, and he would see the reward that blind faith earned. The Father Abbot went on to explain that Gerisus would be presented to the city as a traitor and publicly stripped of his titles and rank. He would then be given the right of punishment and condemnation before being sentenced to death.

Though it was music to his ears, Dellain felt it important to point out that many would not accept that Gersius was a traitor.

“Brother Dellain,” the Father Abbot began with an amused tone. “Didn’t I go out in peace to meet with Gersius in the countryside to reason with him? Didn’t he reject my offers and then march his dragon on the city to attack it? Surely if his intentions had been sure, he would have gone straight to Calathen and not been caught fleeing south. It is to his shame we had to track him down and then subdue him and his dragon.”

“How fortunate for the city we got here before he could enact his terrible plan,” Dellain agreed with a smile for the genius of the Father Abbot.

“He must have murdered the men I sent with him,” the Father Abbot continued. “I knew something was amiss with his forceful demands. He had to murder them to avoid their being witnesses. That explains why he insisted on taking green recruits. He would never have been able to murder thirty well-trained and battle-hardened brothers.”

“The man is beyond redemption,” Dellain replied, barely holding back a chuckle. He knew the truth, of course. Gersius had demanded veteran soldiers, but the Father Abbot denied him. Instead, he was given the new recruits who hadn't even completed combat training.

“I suspect he was working with the enemy all along to prevent the prophecy,” the old man continued. “If he could beat us to the dragon and use it to sow chaos in the backcountry, we would be in a terrible position.”

“Praise Astikar, we were able to stop him in time,” Dellain remarked as he struggled to keep a straight face.

The Father Abbot paused and looked to the man beside him with that calculating expression. “And to think that you, Brother Dellain, managed to defeat Gersius and his dragon. Surely your name will be sung in the services of remembrance.” He smiled as if pleased with himself, then looked back to the man hanging on the wall. “I want you to bring the beast to the plaza outside keep. Maybe it will help loosen its tongue to see Gersius die.”

“It will be my pleasure, my Father,” Dellain replied with a slight bow of his head.

“Listen to me. When this is over, you will march that dragon to Calathen and claim the title of dragon knight,” the Father Abbot insisted with a voice full of command.

“I am honored,” Dellain said with an even lower bow.

“I told you, Brother Dellain,” the Father Abbot said as he picked up his wine glass. “I had a much higher post in mind for you.”