Sunlight streamed into the rapidly warming cave shortly after daybreak, and Grym was already sweating as he rose and stretched, massaging his right shoulder. He rolled the joint several times, alleviating the stiffness brought on by several hours on a stone surface, despite the grass bedding. As he gazed out the cave mouth across the rippling carpet of treetops, gradually falling away from their perch before flattening into fields and farmlands in the distance, he heard Glynfir groan to his right.

  “Ugh. My hip…and, well, my butt!” The wizard sat up and raised his hand to block the light from his squinting eyes as he turned to the dwarf. “You know, when we crashed last night, I was thinking this wasn’t so bad—sleeping rough—but I take it all back. I feel like I’ve been kicked by a centaur!”

  Grym laughed, stroking his salt-and-pepper beard. “Aye, it does take some getting used to.”

  The wizard rose and began some stretching of his own.

  “I seriously can’t feel my butt right now…” Rubbing his right butt cheek, he directed a nod to the space between them. “Where’s Lunish?”

  “Dunno,” Grym shrugged as he retrieved his chain shirt and began the cumbersome process of getting it on over his tunic. “She was already gone when I got up. Can you give me a hand here?”

  After assisting his friend with the armor, Glynfir picked up what had been dubbed the official ‘fire poking stick’ the night before, fruitlessly stirring the fire’s remains, in search of remaining embers. Realizing he was accomplishing nothing other than covering them both in a fine layer of ash, he tossed the stick into the circle of stones before turning his attention to the remains of the turkey. Grym quickly recognized the genius of this idea, and within moments, the two of them were huddled around the carcass, picking away at the leftovers like a couple of crows. The grease on their fingers and faces flashed in the morning sunlight. That’s how Lunish found them.

  “Thought you two might sleep all day!” she bubbled, stepping into the cave around the earthen half-wall Glynfir had constructed the evening before. Despite its modest height, the barrier, together with her diminutive form and druidic harmony with the natural surroundings, entirely concealed her approach. Grym and Glynfir flinched momentarily in surprise before quickly returning to their scavenging.

  “Where have you been?” Grym asked her between bites.

  “Foraging.” She opened the top of her shoulder satchel to reveal three apples and enough raspberries to share. “These should go well with whatever you’re calling this.” She circled her open palm in the air around them and the turkey carcass, a slightly disgusted look on her face.

  “Don’t knock it until you try it!” Grym boasted. “Here—pull up some grass.”

  He shifted over, making some room. Lunish sat down, emptying the contents of her efforts onto the previous night’s bedding next to the turkey carcass, and they all dug in.

  “So…did we get a reply?” Glynfir asked as he popped several raspberries into his mouth.

  “We did,” she confirmed. “They want us to go to a monastery called The Luminarium. Apparently, the monks set off a beacon flare yesterday, and they want to know the details.”

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  “Works for me,” Grym quickly confirmed with a nod.

  Glynfir’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “How far, Lulu?”

  “About a day and a half, if we take the road. We might be a bit quicker if we go overland, but it’s pretty rough terrain, and you never know what we might run into.”

  The men exchanged a look and simultaneously exclaimed, “Road!”

  “But that means another night of sleeping rough.” Glynfir deflated

  “You’re such a whiner!” she teased. “I’ve never seen anyone with elven blood so averse to nature!”

  “My druid, you grew up with this!” he objected, waving his hand at the wooded vista beyond the cave mouth. “It’s who you are. I grew up with humans…in a town…with buildings…and beds!”

  Grym shook his head. “I’d swear you two were an old married couple if I didn’t know better.”

  The banter between half-elf and gnome continued as they stowed their belongings in preparation for a long day’s walk. Glynfir’s spirits were buoyed somewhat by having a fully dry pair of shoes to begin the trek.

  “We’ll have to head overland to the east for a couple of miles until we pick up the road from Chagrothlond.” Lunish itemized their itinerary as the group filled their waterskins from a nearby stream. “We can follow that north until we reach the Shand, then take that road west to the Luminarium.”

  “You know, I’ve got an old friend that lives up that way,” Grym mused as they pressed single file through a swale of dense cedar. “Draconic wizard named Glamos. Haven’t seen him in more than ten years. We adventured together before I took up this more, ahem, honest work. We should stop by and say hello. He might even know something about what happened.”

  Glynfir, once again bringing up the rear, brightened with curiosity. “Draconic? Are you saying you have a dragon for a friend? How have we never heard this before? You just got way more interesting!”

  “Not a dragon…draconic,” Lunish corrected him. “They are a rare offspring of dragon and human.”

  “Wait…What? How is that even possible? Stop, don’t tell me, I’m already forming mental pictures I’ll never be able to unsee.” Glynfir grimaced, closed his eyes, and shook his head as if to expel the undesired images.

  “I would have thought you, of all people, being of mixed species background yourself, would be more tolerant.” Lunish didn’t turn, hiding her smile from him as she teased.

  “That’s unfair! In my case, the two species were anatomically similar—two arms, two legs, no tail or wings. Ugh! More bad mind pictures!” The wizard paused before firing off a series of questions. “So, is he a dragon with human features or a human with dragon features? Does he breathe fire? Was he hatched from an egg?”

  Grym sighed. “I’m glad we’re getting all this nonsense out of the way before you meet him, it saves me the embarrassment. He’s human in stature with dragon features, and yes, he was hatched from an egg. No, he doesn’t breathe fire because his heritage is a white dragon, not red. So, he can breathe frost.” The dwarf patiently recited answers he had given many times in the past. “Come to think of it, the climate is probably why he chose to retire up in the mountains. It also helps him avoid dealing with curious kobolds like you and all these ignorant questions!”

  “I’m sorry, I’m just interested!” Glynfir grinned, trying to defend his position. “A white dragon. That means that somehow…at some point…a human male mated with a female ice dragon…” He let the implication hang silently in the air momentarily. “I would love to buy that man a drink—talk about dedication!”

  “That’s why it’s so rare,” Lunish chuckled. “She could polymorph herself into human form, but regardless, I’d be surprised if he survived the coupling… I’m sorry, Grym!” she added, apologizing for egging the wizard on.

  The dwarf shook his head. “You two are terrible!”

  “Okay, I’m done,” the wizard snorted, holding up his hands in surrender. “I won’t mention any of it when we meet him, I promise!”

  The conversation concluded when the surrounding forest abruptly revealed a dirt trail perpendicular to their current path. Though barely wide enough for a wagon, Lunish was confident this was the “road” they sought. The group turned north toward their destination in high spirits, blissfully unaware of how profoundly the next forty-eight hours would impact the trajectory and duration of their lives.

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