Koe tried to keep himself from flinging the table at Horon and moving for the exit as fast as his legs would carry him. it was difficult to retain one's composure when one thought they were in imminent danger. Yet those were the times which demanded the most composure. If someone wanted you dead, they were feeling the same emotions that you were. A rush of hot blood to the head. Keeping your wits about you would see you through, where you might otherwise have died terribly in the arms of a stranger. Or perhaps a friend. So instead of rushing Horon and trying to escape with his life Koe sat still. Not the practiced stillness of a fellow trying to keep calm, but an easy one. He seemed almost to be lounging in his chair, with a dreamy sort of half-smile on his face. As though nothing that Horon could say from this point forward would in any way disturb Koe's dreams tonight.
"In the mountains to the north there is a temple," Horon's weariness was evident even as he found his own seat. "They call it Aetherius, the mountain home. Men who pray there pray to Bahamut, worship the dragon god over all others."
"I've never heard of this temple," Koe said in annoyance.
"Not surprising. The locals are reluctant to speak of it for fear of reprisal."
"From the temple?"
"From those who make enemies of the temple," and Horon massaged the massive white whiskers which drenched his face with an unsteady hand. "Let me tell you more of this place, and then you will understand."
Koe's nod was short.
"Like all temples, they hold service," and Horon's voice took on a wistful quality. "But it is more than just a promise and years of study that earn you a role as a priest. You must also swear to the order. First to do no harm to dragons. Second to protect them, if that protection is needed. And third to give them the final release of death if they ask for it."
Koe's outrage must have been painted on his face despite the tremendous control that the bard was exerting over his emotion. Horon's lips thinned, and his eyes tightened, and those white hairs bounced on his face as the knight trembles. Almost as though he feared Koe would lash out. But it was the idea... the idea of asking for final death. For requesting it. From a human. Such nonsense had not been heard in the lifetimes Koe had lived. It must have been a new thing. Yet Koe could not imagine any dragon he knew taking their own life in such a way. Now he was picturing Rand, proud Rand, submitting. Ridiculous. He made a sound in his throat and both Horon and Mirram had the good grace to flinch.