“Lord Avess, a word please.”

It was novice Drexon, a terribly bothersome young man in the service of the Kull Naga himself. The boy was gangly, his arms and legs as though too long and too heavy for his weak frame. He often carried a small book with him that he would read when not engaged in irritating others.

Ildor often blocked him, but he was gone to discover what he could for the upcoming tribunal. Avess was stuck at the communal dinner table with the boy.

“Hello novice…Drexon is it?”

“Indeed. How are you Lord Avess?”

“As good as can be expected, considering the circumstances. How about yourself? How soon until you become a Magus?”

Reminding the boy of his place might help stem the tide of questions he was sure to ask. As Dragon Lord, he should be afforded some amount of respect.

The boy, though, had none.

“I’m well sir. Thank you for taking time out to speak with me.”

As though I had a chance, Avess thought.

Drexon leaned closer. “What do you know about gray-souls?”

Avess nearly choked on his bread. “What do you mean? Are they real? Do I believe in them?” He considered his words carefully. This was the Kull’s novice after all.

“How are they created? Do you think they’re responsible for what happened at Nightfall? Did the Drakku make them? How often do you think they—“

Avess held up a hand. “Hold on novice. These are questions I’m to answer in front of the Magus, not you. If this is some ploy by the Kull Naga to glean information beforehand, you can stop your questions now.”

“Lord Avess, I’m an eager student and avid reader. I’ve delved deep into the archives of the Order and the things I’ve discovered…well, let me say, the Order has forgotten many a thing.”

The boy grinned, but it was more like that of a wolf ready to pounce on its prey. Avess would not be taken by some pup.

“I appreciate your enthusiasm. You will do well among the Order if you ever make it to Magus. I would be honored to work with you someday.”

Drexon cleared his throat and then stood. “Maybe. I wish you well Lord Avess.”

He turned and left, the awkward encounter finally over. Avess finished his meal and as he was ready to leave, Ildor arrived. He sat in the same seat Drexon had.

“I have grave news my friend. All of the Keepers attending your tribunal are sympathizers of the Magus who claim we ought to be free of Drakku ties. It seems you’re being set-up to fail. Maybe…” he leaned closer, checking for Magus nearby, “maybe you ought to leave this place. I fear something terrible is coming.”

Avess wiped his mouth and set the cloth napkin down on the table. “I will not run from my duties. If I am called to account for something the Drakku have not done, I will stand in truth. I will not cower from it. Your concern strengthens my resolve to find the truth. Surely others will see what you do and stand by my side. Whatever it is infecting the Order, it’s time we expunge it like a sickness.”

Ildor opened his mouth to reply, but waited for a Magus who walked by to leave before he did. “It may not be safe for you personally. I fear whatever dark magic we’ve been witnesses too will be present. I may not be able to stop it.”

Avess reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. “My friend, don’t worry about me. I can handle whatever is to come.”

“I hope you’re right about that. I fear for you.”

Avess waved him off. “It will be fine. Once I’m able to share the truth, what can stop it?”

“I’ll continue to search out information to help. We cannot let this get out of hand. It’s already turned into a much larger problem than I ever imagined. Be well my friend.” Ildor stood, then seemed to want to share something.

“What is it?”

“Nothing. Avess, be careful. The Tower can be a dangerous place. There are too many here who would see you harmed.”

“Then they’ll get the full force of a dragon, and I swear, no one wants that.”

Ildor smiled and left. Avess got up from the wooden table and strolled back to his room, avoiding the novices and Magus roaming the halls. He wanted to be alone, to think, and to prepare for what was to come.