Dragon's Blade

Chapter 2

Several hours had passed since the recent altercation between Reagan and the group of bandits that assaulted the caravan. With no sign of another attack, the feeling of fear slowly subsided from the group as they grew nearer to Ty'rell's borders. Reagan however kept his guard up no matter how much they seemed to be in the clear. He was glad to be within an hour of his destination and knowing his journey was soon to come to an end.

Whispers began finding their way among the wagons and people poke their heads out and peered towards the front. Worry seemed to once again fill the air as the commotion grew from person to person. With a whip of his reins, Reagan began making his way to the head of the caravan in hopes of finding the cause. It was when he reached the front that he realized what was going on. Farmlands that signaled the border of Ty'rell that once were full of flourishing desert crops and the farmers that worked them were found barren. Most of the crops withered and decayed as no one was found to be tending to them, no one was to be found at all.

As they moved between the fields and buildings that scattered the area there wasn't a soul to be seen or heard. What few buildings that still stood between the barns and houses were in shambles with holes smashed through them. It was clear that many crops had been uprooted or crushed as if stampeded by something much larger than any desert steed.

"This... Is this the work of bandits? It can't be." Creedus gasped, his face twisted in horror as he witnessed the sight before.

Reagan turned to the elder, noticing him sitting upon the lead wagon, "No, I don't believe this to be the work of bandits, they wouldn't dare raid so close to a city such as Ty'rell." He pulled his blade from his bag and strapped it to his belt and gripped the blade's hilt tightly, "This is the work of dragons and the reason I have traveled to Ty'rell."

* * *

They continued to only find more of the destruction as they went, though as they grew closer to the city it became less and less. However even parts of the farmlands and towns they found untouched, there was still no one to be seen inhabiting them.

"Elder Creedus, when was the last time you made the trip through these lands to Ty'rell?" Reagan questioned.

The old man took a moment, his hands scratching at the white beard that hung from his chin. "It was only about four weeks ago I believe. These towns were filled with folks. Normally we would find trade along the way, not just in the city. But this. I have never seen anything like it in all my years making this journey."

"Just about last we got word from Ty'rell," Reagan spoke quietly, not intended towards anyone.

"What was that?" The elder stared at Reagan with a form of curiosity at who he saw as a mystery.

"Nothing. I will take the rear again, call once the walls are in sight. Until then I hope to make sure nothing surprises us from behind." Reagan pulled at his reins to pull back from the lead of the caravan and make his way to its rear. Each wagon and cart one by one slowly pulled their way past him, tired and weary faces peering out at him as they did. The decrease in ruined homes and crops boded well but the continued absence of any life continued to worry Reagan of trouble to come.

"Sir Reagan!" There was a shout from the front that took Reagan from his thoughts. He quickly made his way to the front of the caravan to find a rider keeping along with the elder. Creedus motioned to Reagan and spoke to the rider, "Tell Reagan what you told me."

"Sir" The Young man nodded and turned to Reagan, his features noticeably similar to that of the Elders. A look of worry and sweat covered his face, "Something is moving along the dunes, me and a couple of other riders have witnessed sand kicking up, following us."