“Father! We need to talk!” Kira pleaded, his eyes shining. He couldn’t remember being this happy.

“Not now son. The ring your dragon attacked was only partially finished. And only one battalion was there. You need a strategy.”

“Come to my tent!” bellowed Perceval in his egotistical way.

Kira followed, but only because he didn’t want to be separated from his father. Olgoth walked with a slight limp from being dropped and he winced as his burns rubbed on his clothes.

Katra followed too. She couldn’t bear to be separated from Kira, much to his embarrassment, but she proved useful in getting water, salve, and bandages for Olgoth’s wounds.

Once he was properly bandaged, Olgoth began to draw in the dirt inside the tent. He drew the five rings, the coast, and where he’d overheard the armies were moving to camp.

Kira just stared at his father. He never knew how smart, and brave he was. He thought about how he must have had a loyal following for so many men to be willing to claim his name.

Who was this man?