The first thing Rigel noted about Baraccus Collamore as they walked was that he, unlike Malin, defied his expectations at seemingly every turn. The man did not walk; he marched. Every movement was precise, meticulous, unwasted. Rigel would have been hard-pressed to believe that his breathing wasn’t specifically coordinated for maximum efficiency.

            Rigel wondered for a thankfully fleeting moment if he was a machine.

            “Do you truly think it likely that Aedel was recruited by this…Argent Dawn?” Rigel dared to ask, unsure if he would receive an answer. “Wouldn’t it be just as likely that he would have been sent somewhere else?”

            “Mages are rare in the Alliance at large,” Baraccus said without looking at him. “They are unheard of in the Plaguelands.” There was a beat of silence. “The Dawn has been especially forward recently about recruiting those with magical ability. Emissaries are zealous enough to make the army seem lax.” He finally glanced at Rigel, and he’d been around enough people to know the…look of knowledge. This man knew what he was talking about. “If your son is anywhere, he is with the Dawn.”

            Rigel mulled this over for a while. He couldn’t say that he was especially confident with the notion, but he supposed that it was a better lead than he’d had before. He wondered where Baraccus was leading him. They passed over the canals and walked down the cobbled walkways. People milled past them, but all seemed to give Baraccus a clear path. Even people Rigel would have assumed would be rude and confrontational said not a word to Baraccus Collamore and moved to let him pass.

            Rigel wasn’t sure what to make of this, but he figured that Baraccus must have quite a reputation. He wondered what that reputation entailed, but decided that it was best not to pry. People had secrets, they had parts of themselves that they chose not to show to others, and Rigel hadn’t earned the title, “Master Atherton,” by ignoring those choices.

            Listen t’ you, Thordin’s voice popped up in Rigel’s head, acting all proud of the title when ya don’t even like it. And Rigel had to admit that he rather detested being called by such a title, as a given rule. Nonetheless, there was a certain amount of satisfaction to be gleaned from the fact that people wanted to use it.