“No! Leave him alone!”
Rian shoved the white-robed Waabuleh priests away from his father’s corpse. The blue-skinned godlings trilled their incomprehensible language but he ignored them, hunching protectively over the charred remains.
Rian curled up on himself in the mud. His father’s murderer, Brattak, emperor’s wizard, turned his back on the squire and walked away.
The wizard’s spittle felt heavy on Rian’s face.
Rian charged Brattak; he was drenched in the demon wyrm’s still-warm lifeblood and the wizard’s blackfire spells rained impotently against it. He drew his father’s sword, forever his father’s son, and swung.
Dedicated to the memory of James Miller, who led us on many an epic adventure; who embarked upon that final, greatest adventure far too soon.