The Loyal

18- Late Regrets

The time for destruction had arrived and Sirath wished she was still at her mother's side, all those days ago. Dain was wrapped in a soaking wet blanket and tightly secured on her neck. He struggled to stay upright and was constantly going faint. Ixrith seemed determined and quiet, to anyone other than Sirath, this would seem normal, but she knew what Ixrith could really be like, and it was completely opposite to this.

The skies were splashed with strange pinks and purples that were unknown in the dragons mountains. Instead they had twilights with thousands, if not millions, of silver stars, all named, which coated every corner of the galaxy. Truthfully Sirath couldn't decide which was more beautiful and thought it would be best to just admire the scenes, not compare them.

Sirath felt her fire lung beat with excitement. She hadn't fired on anything, with violent intentions, since she was younger when she'd just discovered her flame. But burning a havian building was different. For some reason she felt frightened and nervous as the time for fire neared.

Dain had given them both detailed instructions on where the storage was located and what materials it was built from so they could burn in quickly. He told them of the barrels inside and how many there were, and the danger they posed if remained undestroyed.

Thoughts fought inside Sirath head, drowning all the information that she needed. So much had happened, in such little time. She had almost forgotten the comforting environment that had served as her home for three years. Those memories seemed a life time away.

"Are we ready?" Dain asked for the third time without receiving any answer.

Ixrith tilted his head up to the skies. He didn't sleep last night. Sirath didn't know what he was doing but he didn't sleep, and it showed clearly on his face all day.

"Remember we've got to come back here after . . . burning. . ." Dain added to no one in particular.

They were leaving the supplies and Dain's pack in the grove because Dain couldn't carry the weight.  All day Sirath repeatedly washed his skin and with the help of some good food Dain had regained much needed strength. But he hadn't improved enough to carry anything or cover up his wounds.

"Uh . . . yeah," Sirath finally answered, pulling herself out of her wild thoughts, "Ixrith?"

He turned back to them, his mouth stretched in a friendly smile. Sirath's heart soared, she hadn't seem that happy face for such a long time. "Of course."

It was time to show Scias they weren't afraid.

Ixrith bounded suddenly into the air, calling for Sirath to follow him. The time was now. She followed, taking off slower as to not startled Dain or cause him any more pain. The Interesting skies would distract the guards from noticing the dragons whom both had dark under bellies until it was too late. This should only take about twenty minutes before they would fly on to Moonhaven.

"Hurry!" Ixrith called, pulling himself just before the clouds. His stomach was visibly glowing orange, which, in Sirach's opinion, was rather beautiful against his circular black scales. "We need to finish it now!" 

Sirath smiled. Ixrith was almost exactly the same old Ixrith from before taking Taintith. In another day or two, trusted he didn't have any more fits, Ixrith would be completely healed. Sirath believed that fate smiled down on them finally.

Dain clung to her neck, struggling to keep his body from free falling. Right now, there was nothing she could do for him. He kept his eyes tightly shut and his mouth was in a thin line.

The forest became smaller as the large down mapped out before them. No one even looked up, not caring for the whoosh that past over them. Dain pointed out the storage building, shouting over the whistling wind. "That's it! Fly down now!" the effort caused him to slump against Sirath's warm body.

In perfect synchronisation the two dragons dived down, plummeting directly towards the cobbled brown stone street. The several havains saw them, crying out in fear and alarm. Almost instantly the constant sound of a ringing bell filled the city, plunging the frightened townsfolk into chaos. Most of the citizens of Irroar didn't know what was going on , but for those who did, it was a nightmare.

Time slowed down as the storage came ever closer. Sirath breathed in, feeding her fire lung and calming herself down. This was necessary.

Dain leaned over the side of her, upon seeing a woman cradling a small baby in her arms and running, he pursed his lips, his eyes filled with horrified realisation.

"Stop!" Dain screamed in Sirath's delicate ears. She faltered in her beat, trying to swallow the flames with vibrated up her throat.

Beside them, suddenly, the air evaporated, making room for the bolt of solid fire which headed speedily towards the building. Sirath failed in her attempt to stop and soon her own fire crashed mercilessly into the building.

Screaming burdened the air. Dain pressed his hands painfully over both ears, crying out in frustration. The storage exploded, sending bubbling fire straight into the sky. The restaurant beside the storage caught fire and so did the house opposite. Faces pressed at the windows calling for help or mercy by the gods. The backgrounds were illustrated with red and yellow death.

Sirath realised what they'd done. She pulled her wings out, just avoiding crashing into the disaster zone and turned gracefully back to Irroar, which almost a quarter had already caught fire. Silence enveloped both the victims and the guilty. How a normal day had turned into the end.

Sirath never classified herself as a bad dragon, but now, looking down of the hundred of building and bodies surrounded by fire, she realised how quickly everything had changed. Dain was shivering on her back, his head protected by his shaking arms. The intense heat had caused more internal damage to him. Sirath couldn't even begin to imagine how many lives she'd ripped apart.

Ixrith glided beside her. His face broken and betrayed. Blood pounded in Sirath's ears. Why hadn't they foreseen this. Wasn't it obvious that every other flammable building would be ruined. Why didn't they think?!   

Dain suddenly slipped from his safety rope. He fell, unconscious through the air, his limbs flailing helpless. No! Sirath couldn't think, she didn't even try to. Every instinct guided her. Sirath bolted down, feeling the air rip in her ears. She reached out her back legs. Stretching her claws to save him. Nothing else mattered until Dain was safe.

She caught him, not knowing how much more pain he would encounter by her catching him in such a way. But it was better than falling in Sirath's own flames. It was better than falling from Sirath's back into her flames.

"We have to go," Ixrith said hoarsely beside her.

Sirath glanced back at the city, which supported flames which consumed everything, reaching out for the stars. They had done that, was all she could think, they were meant to be fighting for freedom. They had killed some many innocent lives and left the other's homeless. Why!?    

They absently returned to the grove and Sirath lay Dain gently in the water. His eyes remained shut even when Sirath lifted him, taking him to the soft grass and softly calling his name. His right side was bright pink but his left side, Sirath struggled to look at him, was of burnt, melting skin and open cuts.

Ixrith touched her tail, trying to comfort him. Sirath whipped her tail away and fought back tears as she tried, without success, to remove Dain's tunic. Voices broke around them. Survivors of Irroar who took up arms to avenge their families.

The two dragons prepared to fly again. Sirath was giving two heartbreaking choices. Either pick Dain up, which could still yet kill him or leave him behind for the mercy of the angered people.

Thankfully Ixrith forced her to pick Dain up as he was already in the air. Just as Sirath had taken off with Dain limp in her claws the townsfolk emerged through the green. They threw curses and spears that fell short at the dragons. Vowing for revenge and preying to their gods for help.

The sky was now an empty night-blue, highlighted around the bright flames which fed on the remains of Irroar. The stars had vanished and the moon lay high on it's throne, watching down.

The hunted had become hunters. The frightened had become frightening. The ones most affected by unjust murder had caused a mass destruction. There was no honour left.