“What do you think we’ll find? If His Majesty even summoned you, there’s bound to be something major going on.” One of the junior knights that formed their escort happily babbled on, completely oblivious to the warning glance from his commander. “Maybe it’s a dragon! Do you think we’d get to slay it? They say you can turn into a dragon, is that true? My cousin said he saw you once--”

“Enough.” Adrastus reined in his horse and let the others pass. He looked down at the boy, smiling tightly at the fear flickering in his eyes.

“This is a mission, soldier, not a show. I didn’t come all the way out here to play with children. We are investigating the disappearance of men far stronger and undoubtedly much smarter than you. This isn’t a game. If you want to play then you might as well go home before you get us all killed. I will not suffer the company of fools.”

He nudged his horse into a trot to catch up with the main party. He never turned back, knowing full well that the boy was either crying or angry.

“You’re too hard on them. That one’s barely graduated from the first rank.” The commander remarked as the mage returned to the front of the column.

“Would you rather he learn on the battlefield, watching his own life’s blood pouring out on the ground? You’ve always been too soft, Phelan.”

“Well, you‘re still alive, that must count for something.”

“Hmph. I left that path long ago. I have no need of swords nor shields.”

Phelan simply grinned and let it go. Even after so many years, Adrastus hadn’t changed. He was still the headstrong little nephew who’d vowed never to use a metal weapon after the first time he’d cut himself in practice.

A scout appeared on a nearby hillside and gave a series of signals that meant nothing to Adrastus.

“The Thiltis emissaries are ahead. Looks like they only sent two. I’ll put the escort on standby here until we return.”

“That’s fine.”

“Be careful Adra. Remi’s counting on you.”

“You worry too much. I’ll be fine. See you in awhile.”

Phelan and his soldiers dropped back, leaving Adrastus, the Knight of the Crescent Moon, and a tracker to continue forward to the rendezvous point. They approached the Thiltians, a man and a woman. They didn’t seem concerned; in fact, they appeared to be having lunch. He didn’t particularly care, although it could alert whatever lurked in the forest to their presence.

The tracker, a weathered man of middle age, stepped forward to make the introductions. Adrastus grimaced, wishing the man didn’t insist on calling him the Red Dragon . But then, everyone did.

He dismounted and bowed his head toward the two but made no effort to start the conversation. He had other things to worry about. A distant look came into his eyes as he scanned the forest with magic, seeking any disturbances in the area. He felt it immediately, of course. Something was very wrong in Ynuron.

Maybe the rumors have some truth in them, after all…