“You know, son,” Alyia mused, leaning back in her chair, “Without a place to start, and with so many questions left unanswered… Why not go see the Oracle?”
    “Don’t you think I’m a little old for that sort of nonsense?”
    “You give the Oracle too little credit, Son, you could learn a great deal.”
    “There’s just no way someone could know so much and yet never leave their perch on high.”
    Alyia smiled, amused.
    “And yet you seem to listen to every word Master Greylen says…” she said knowingly.
    “I… uhh… umm… hmm…” Garadaine choked on his own words, caught off guard by his mother’s point.  Then again his mother was a very smart and crafty woman, and this was something Garadaine should have been used to.
    “I know you have doubts about certain… “ Alyia thought for a minute, “…things that other people believe in firmly.  But please just give the Oracle a chance.”
    “Alright mother,” Garadaine finally, “What have I to lose but time?”  Garadaine sighed.  He knew arguing would be futile.  Even if he wouldn’t actually go, lying would be better than trying to win this losing battle.  On top of that, if he lied and didn’t go, he knew his mother would find out, she always did.  Garadaine winced as he remembered the consequences the last time he had lied to her.     “This is just unfair!” Drakon burst in, growling, stomping his way into the middle of the room.  He began to pace back and forth between the fireplace and the door, muttering to himself.
    “Unfair, Sir Knight?” Alyia asked puzzled.
    “It’s a mistake!  I’m the Grand Templar of the Triark Dragoons, after all!  I deserve better!”
    “…Better?” Garadaine looked at his mother with a raised eyebrow.     “Calm down, Drakon,” Kullvox chuckled, entering the room slowly, handing over the enchanted sword to the Prince.  Masark was close behind, trying to contain his own amusement.
    “Calm down?  Bah!” Drakon growled.
    “What on earth is the matter?” Alyia stood up.
    “Well…” Kullvox began.