The world was blurry and hazy as his mind slipped in and out of consciousness. Arylaryl was there in tears one moment, speaking words he could not quite understand. A boy was with her. William, Henry’s son. I have to save him. He thought, but his vision went dark again. There was Henry as well, he could have sworn, looking down upon him. Glimpses of a small cavern around him and then a view of his home in the highlands. Visions appeared before his eyes, but Cyrvanyx could not tell which parts were real and which were visions of dying mind.

Am I dying? He wondered in a moment of clarity and did not find the answer before once again he slipped away. Again he awoke to see Ary, her face illuminated by a fire light. She smiled at him, but it was not a genuine smile. It was full of pain and uncertainty. He himself did not know what to think.

There was no way to tell how much time had passed, but conscious thought was returning to him and yet his body was unresponsive. Everything felt wrong, even the air he was breathing. Whatever poison they used was clearly strong, but did not intend to kill. Dragonsbane would have made you bleed from all your orifices. He thought grimly and was glad Ary, Gareth and William did not have to see it. That is, if Gareth had woken up.

Cyr could feel stone beneath him, his body aching all over while it still remained unresponsive. Without having any idea how long he was out, why he couldn’t move and where he was his mind was starting to race with fear. That was when some of his senses seemed to wake up. He smelled first, which in this case was a mixture of Ary’s scent, the other two human scents, the damp smell of a cavern and a fire not far away. His ears picked up voices, familiar ones, Ary and William. He willed his eyes to open, but they did not obey, willed his tongue to form words, but it refused. At least one of his ears weakly swiveled in the direction of the hushed conversation.

“No I… I still don’t get it! They have to help us!” He heard William’s agitated voice. “All of Albia is at risk. T-that includes the highlands!”

A sigh came as a first response, clearly from Ary. “The Clans are only truly loyal to themselves, young one. We will have to make them see sense to join the war, but until then, we cannot assume they will. The last time the clans all together fought with Albia was-“

“Long ago, I know!” He heard William move and slowly Cyr was able to open his eyes to see. “But never has Albia been in this much danger! Don’t you get that?” He shouted at her and when at last Cyr could see, he saw the child stand close to a campfire, fists balled and glaring at Ary who was calmly sitting next to the flames, Gareth leaned against her. To Cyr’s dismay the knight still seemed to be unconscious. Dim light of the evening sun bathed the grass outside the small cave in which they apparently were. Cyr himself was further in he realized, laying upon his belly.

“William…” He heard the strain of frustration in her voice and yet she remained patient. They both knew that he was still a child, a child who had just lost both his parents. It was honestly admirable he was holding up as well as he was considering the circumstances. “It is not me who you have to explain that to, it’s the clan leaders. The Highclaws. We will call a meeting and then-“

“Ok fine!” He called, throwing his hands in the air. Angrily he kicked at some rocks, sitting down on one of the bigger ones, glaring into the sky. “They better help…” Cyr heard the boy murmur before he seemed to go quiet.

Ary sighed, hanging her head as she got up from her sitting position. Her eyes met his in that moment and she gasped. “Cyrvanyx! Thank the gods, y-you’re waking up.” She rushed towards him with glee in her eyes. He forced a smile onto his still not quite obeying muzzle. As he tried to work his tongue into some form of response he felt her arms around him and her wings draped over his own. He felt his ears grow hot as her face was so very close to his, hugging him close. “I thought that maybe you would end like Gareth. He… he is breathing but is still not waking up.”

At last he managed to force his tongue to obey and speak while she still had him wrapped tight. “I-“ He began to cough from his dry throat after only the first word. “I am…fine.” He finished, looking into her eyes. Seeing her frightened for his wellbeing made his heart both soar and hurt at once. She broke her hug and used her wings, paws as well as her tail to help him up. The help was much appreciated as indeed, with her help, he managed to rise with his muscles aching all over. “Thanks.” He said weakly, smiling. A brief look around the cavern did reveal to him that it was not quite as large as he assumed. His own body had barely fit into it while the campfire, Gareth and William were right in the entrance. It seemed they were atop some sort of hillside. A few steps forward revealed that the cave lay at least a twenty feet above ground level, seeming to sit at the side of one of the steeper hills of northern Albia. Outside he saw the rolling green hills alongside some fields from peasants in the far distance. Those farmlands must still be Albien. How far…

“We have been going all night well into the morning.” As if reading his thoughts, Ary explained their current situation as sat down next to him. Only then when he looked at her, the sun shining at her green scaled face, did he see how truly exhausted she looked. “You were still flapping your wings for a long time, but you… became heavier and heavier. I have a feeling you may been not quite there for most of that flight.” She forced a smile, looking him in the eyes. “But we still found this when the sun was up. It has been a few hours since then, but I… I could not really get much sleep because-“

“You should rest now, then.” Cyr intermitted, his frills sinking in concern. “Please. I can watch over Will and Gareth as well.” He could see in her eyes that she was about to disagree and so kept going the moment her muzzle opened. “I know you want to keep going, but it won’t do any of us good when you fall from the sky from overexertion. So, please. I am fine, you are not. Get some rest.” He insisted, trying to sound as firm as he could manage to her face.

Her expression softened quickly as he did not avert his gaze from hers. After a few seconds of silence, she sighed and relented. “Alright… I will rest my eyes for some time, but we cannot wait for too long. We cannot be certain how persistent these hunters are and after what we saw their arrows can do… I do not want to find out why they want us alive and not dead.”

He nodded. “I will wake you if you fall asleep for too long.” He reassured her, his tail briefly swishing to hers in a small gesture of comfort.

“Good to know.” Ary sighed again and turned around on the spot as to not face the sunlight when trying to get shuteye. “There should still be a rabbit left next to the fire I hunted. It is not much, but it is better than nothing.” He nodded his thanks and watched her lay down, wings tugged tightly to her body. Merely watching her for a few moments made him smile genuinely despite everything. Before long he turned his head towards the fire and William however, sparing only a brief glance at the still unconscious knight. Poor Gareth did appear to breathe, but otherwise showed no real sign of life. Hopefully he would wake soon.

When Cyr sat down next to the fire William did not stir, the boy’s eyes set on the fields outside their little cave. Silent remained between them as the dragon’s thoughts wandered. There was no knowing what a twelve-year-old human child may truly think after all that has happened. His mind was an enigma to Cyrvanyx, despite how much he wished to be there for him, to tell him that he will be alright. For Henry’s sake he wished he could just do that. Yet he knew that it was not so easy. There was great anger in him that much was clear. It was understandable for him to be angry, but Cyr could only imagine what such hate would do to such a young mind.

All he could do was to try his best and guide William not to sink into that anger and just maybe he could enjoy a few more years of his childhood. A part of Cyr already knew though that it was mere wishful thinking. After what happened what child could simply have a normal childhood ever again. Whatever childlike innocence William once had was now truly gone. Cyr looked the child over, trying to glance an expression from the sideward angle he was granted. From what he could see William was lost in his own little world. While true that he could not know what the right thing to say was, the least he could do was try. He opened his maw, starting to speak in a soft voice. “William-“

“Do you also believe it?” The young human interjected right away as if he was only waiting for Cyr to speak up.

The dragon sat there with his muzzle ajar, awaiting further words. When none came he cocked his head and asked in mild confusion. “Believe what, exactly?”

“That the war is lost without the aid of the dragon clans. The she-dragon seems to think so. It is why you are flying straight to the highlands instead of bringing me home to my uncle. So…” For the first time since he began to speak with his quiet yet determined voice he turned his head to face the dragon. His eyes were wet and yet no tears would come yet. “Do you believe it, too?”

Cyr’s jaws slowly closed, his mind racing as he searched for the best way to answer him. To frighten him needlessly was not his desire, yet he could not lie to him. He had to tell him what he thought in his heart. “I am not sure.” Cyr responded, his frills twitching nervously as they were tugged against his neck. “Your uncle still possesses the means to raise a new army, with his influence and alliance with the Duke of Grannd, Horas Lewyn. Alongside the Duke of Aerionna and Rhiona hopefully not giving up and staying in the war, there is a chance indeed. However,” He raised a single claw, looking at the boy seriously. “The Duke of Rhiona, last I heard, died at Dimbarrow and I do not know his son. The duke of Aerionna I do not know either, so that leaves two duchies that make up the north western half of Albia that will stay in the war for sure.”

Cyr felt a sting in his heart when he saw William nod weakly. “So there is a chance.” He added quickly. “I just do not believe it to be a large one. I swore to your father I would keep you save.” Your mother as well. His heart stung all the more at the painful thought. “And so for the time being you will accompany us on our mission to the highlands to persuade the clans to finally get of their old cranky asses.” He said, finishing with a chuckle. Unfortunately, it did not get so much as a smile from the somber looking child.

William just nodded again and turned his gaze back to the fields. Cyr followed his eyes, staring at one particular farm that he could see in the far distance. The harvest for the year had already been reaped so the fields appeared barren. That also means however that the storage of the peasants must be full of their own produce, until they give what is owed to their liege lords and sell the excess to those who need it. It is a ripe place for an army to resupply should they desire to move on westwards quickly before the snow falls. In that moment Cyr prayed for those peasants that their harvest had not been as bountiful this year. Not that it would really matter. Either they burn down the farm for looting or out of frustration for the lack of supplies. It was the bleak truth of the war that was reaping through eastern Albia and he could not say how far it would reach before the winter would force armies to encamp until the snows melted.

They stayed in that cavern for a while longer until Ary awoke from her nap. William did not say anything else and neither did Cyrvanyx. When they did take flight the mood was somber. It did not help to find the farmers merely going about their day as he imagined them being attacked and killed to the last by a raiding party. Cyr had not wanted to land there, but they urgently needed to resupply. As the two dragons settled in for a landing it caused the peasants to halt at whatever business they were doing and stare. Many of them wore shocked expressions mixed with awe, children pointing in excitement. They landed in the center of the farm where the well sat surrounded by a few buildings, all painted various colors to brighten up the otherwise grey autumn world around them. “Oh greetings to my humble farm, great dragons!”

Cyr looked towards the sound and saw an old man sitting in a rocking chair on the porch of the largest farmhouse, it’s wooden exterior colored a beautiful blue. The old man held up one hand in greeting, bowing his head while still holding the pipe from which he was smoking in his other hand. “Been a good while since I’ve seen dragons ‘round these parts.” He chuckled briefly, motioning towards the well. “If you need resupply me and my people are at your service. The order is all that keeps is save in these times after all.” He smiled a near toothless grin.

The gaze from Ary upon his side was practically felt by Cyr. He sighed as he saw the same dreary expression upon William’s face his own muzzle was no doubt showing. He was glad when Ary rose to the occasion. “Thank you kindly, stranger.” She said, smiling warmly despite her own trepidations. “Water would do us good. And something to carry it perhaps. We are on urgent business on the way to the highlands.”

By now the dozens of people that just a moment ago were going about their day, carrying water, repairing fences, instead had all gathered in a crowd around the two dragons and their passengers. Mothers were carrying children too small to stand yet, a couple of the older children pointing excitedly towards them. It was a heartwarming display to see such love for dragons amongst the common folk outside of the highlands, but he could not stop imagining the farmstead in flames after what happened at Dragonstone castle.

“We can do you one better!” The old man said, pointing at himself with the still smoking pipe. “I am Beric, third of the line. I own this farmstead by the grace of Baron Hywel and I say you are in need of some straps for the young fella there.” He said with a grin and pointed his pipe at William. “Could ride on your back that way.”

“There are attachments in the armor for straps, but…” He paused, seeing William smile softly at the thought of finally riding a dragon proper instead of being carried around like a toy everywhere. His eyes looked up at him, hopeful in that moment. “but… we lack the proper straps. If you can provide the leather the order- “he gulped and cleared his throat at his often spoken phrase to helpful commoners. “We would be most thankful.” He finished with a forced smile.” Now though, there was no order left to be thankful.

The elder nodded and right away piped away to the crowd, ignoring the correction in his speech if he noticed it. “Well, you heard ‘em! Get some leather straps and waterskin for the order’s dragons!” Right away the crows began to scramble at the loud spoken orders like a drill sergeant had just given a directive. Cyrvanyx knew that the old man must have been a veteran of a past war by the way he held himself in their presence so calmly and naturally. The old man went right back to smoking his pipe, nodding a small bow at them. Cyr and Ary both bowed back, an example which William followed shortly with a somewhat confused expression. He must not be used to bow to peasants, Cyr mused.

Will’s excitement at finally being able to fly upon dragonback seemed held back as his gaze wandered towards the people scattering to aid them in their journey. Cyr followed his eyes and understood that the boy was thinking the same thing he thought. In total there were maybe twenty people at the farm, many of them woman, children or elderly. The young men were all off to fight for their freedom, after all.

“Why aren’t you telling them?” William said softly as he turned around to face Cyr. The dragon felt his muscles tense. “These people they… they should know.”

Cyr felt himself frozen in place, watching the people draw water from the well and open the gate to their storage house. To think to take away the hope from these people, these people who saw the order as a bastion of hope for Albia in these dark times. He sighed, because he knew that despite that William was right. They should know the truth. His breath caught when he felt the close touch of Ary as her wing was draped over him, her tail entwining with his. His heart began to flutter as he had to hold back from recoiling from the sudden touch out of sudden anxiety. Thankfully, he composed himself and looked into her eyes. “You need not tell them, Cyr. I will do it. I can see it burden you more than me. Allow me to help.”

Her tone was soft, sweet and filled with compassion. Despite his efforts Cyr looked away from her gaze, choosing to admire the cold dirt instead. “Ary…” Firstly he thought what would be the best way to thank her for her kindness, but while his muzzle was still hanging open after saying her name he knew that it would not do. A part of him felt like he be the one to speak up, to jump over the shadow looming over his confidence once again. He heaved a deep breath and turned his eyes back to hers, seeing a smile cross her muzzle. “We should do it together. I will start.”

At that he briefly felt her tail tightening around his before her grasp went away, her smile becoming warmer. “That is a good idea.” All the warmth left her face however when she looked upon the old farm owner again. His eyes followed hers as, reluctantly he lay his wing across her back this time. He did not lock eyes with her, but he felt her look at him as he did so, no doubt surprised by the gesture. Or at least he assumed that she might be.

“Beric!” Cyr called out to the man, still smoking his pipe. “Before we depart with your gracious gifts we have…” He stopped for a moment when the old man smiled at him.

“Go on. I won’t bite ya.” Old man Beric said, rocking in his chair with a slight chuckle in his voice.

Cyr laughed at his own fear. What was he afraid of, truly? The reaction of a few people to some bad news? You are a dragon, damnit! Act like one! He thought to himself as he continued spilling the truth. “We have grave news. The order has fallen mere days ago to Halvard, brother to the enemy king.”

At his words he could hear movement behind them cease, for he rose his voice loud enough so they all might hear. The old man stopped rocking his chair, his expression unreadably as stone. “As far as we know we are the only survivors.” Cyr went on, but felt his breath catch when the first yells of angry confusion were hurled from the people behind them.

“How can this be?” Said some. “It is impossible!” Yelled others alongside a myriad of other phrases. Cyr turned his head around to see people stand there, some with more than enough leather straps in hand while others held filled waterskins. He opened his maw to respond in any way to the angry humans, but no words would come out at the sight of the sudden desperation in these people’s eyes, one younger woman even holding her hands over her mouth as she began to cry.

“Please, calm yourselves!” Ary came in to help him, swishing her tail in a wide arch as she turned to face them. “The order may have been taken, but this does not mean that we are lost. We are on the way to the highlands to secure the support of the dragon clans for the war effort. With many dragons at our side we can turn this war around yet, I promise you that!” She glanced back at Cyr who offered her a small smile. “We promise you that.”

There was silence for a moment, save for the crying woman leaning against the storage house. A young girl was trying to comfort her while she herself looked like she was crying. Cyr could not look any longer and faced the old man again, just in time to see him stand up.

“Alright then, I understand our situation.” He pointed at people in the crowd, his face determination carved from rock. “Morgen, grab yourself seven others and prepare our weapons. The rest of you wait for further orders for now.” He spoke in a harsh tone, his voice clearly old and yet filled with a lot of strength. He made his way down the porch towards the others. “Leave the dragon’s supplies with them. They have an important task indeed, impossible as it may sound.”

“Surely you do not mean to stay?” Cyr quickly asked as he went by them.

Beric stopped in his tracks, his grim determination never waning from his face even as he looked up at the dragon. “My family has owned this farm for generations, a common man risen to do own his land. These people who serve me here have been living here for even longer. This is our land and we will not see it sullied. We will defend our homes, or die trying.” With that said he marched on before Cyr could think of a good response. Ary merely watched him go as well while William was taking waterskins from the villagers, thanking them as he did so.

Cyrvanyx was still watching Beric as a middle aged woman set down a pair of leather straps before him, her eyes tired as she pointed towards his back. “Shall I help with the straps?” She offered and he nodded, muttering thanks as his gaze shifted back to the rest of the people, seeing someone hand a greataxe to Beric. He knew there was no persuading that man, but perhaps the people could be.

Ary seemed to have the same idea, as she spoke up while a young girl was fastening straps to her back as well. If Gareth would wake up even to warrant them, Cyr thought darkly. “You do not have to stay here simply because he says so.” She said. “I am sure that if you flee west you-“

“say what you will, dragon.” The middle aged woman retorted in a snappy voice. “We stay here. Most of the men may be gone, but that does not mean we cannot put up a fight.” She got done fastening the straps to the armor. He was lacking a saddle to add, but the woman at least offered a thick blanket to William who was staring at her blankly. The boy seemed as taken aback by their desire to stay as Cyr and Ary were.

With the straps in place the woman helped William up, no joy on the boy’s face despite this being a wish of his for a while. Silence came over the group as William strapped himself in, sitting on a warm blanket on Cyr’s armored back. Once the couple of waterskins were tied to the straps and secure she took a step back and nodded once. “We wish you luck on your journey, dragons.” She bowed her head, accompanied by the young girl doing the same. “To you as well, lad.”

“You are very brave to stay.” Will said, finding strength in his voice by the sound of it. Cyr twisted his neck to back at him. “May the gods be with you.”

They both bowed deeply before swiftly joining the rest of their small community in whatever preparations they were doing. Cyr heard Beric yells something about stakes and ditches. Hopefully they can dig fast in that case. Just the four of them were left there to watch them do their tasks. Before they left the dragons quenched their thirst from the fresh water of the well that has been pulled up for them. Once they were ready the dragons looked at each other, nodded, and spread their wings.

“They are all going to die, aren’t they?” Will suddenly said as Cyr was about to take off. While it was a question the tone in his voice suggested that he very well knew the answer. He hesitated for a while before responding. “Only the gods know.” An empty answer and he knew it. Nonetheless Will seemed satisfied with it as he did not inquire further.

Resupplied but with no better mood than before, the dragons took to the sky to hopefully make their goal a reality.