The Loyal

23- Ophira

Sirath woke from the water the next morning to the smell of fish fuming through the house. Truthfully they'd eaten barely nothing but fish since leaving Starhaven and she was sick of the rough taste, but Sirath didn't tell Dalis, who was obviously the one cooking because that would be ungrateful to her hospitality.

A nervous feeling had settled over Sirath since Dain had snapped at her and now all she could think about was whether he was alright. He hadn't emerged from the tiny lounge room since last evening.

Sirath let the water lift her gently above the platform built under the house. She'd had an uncomfortable sleep with her body lying on the platform in the water and her head resting on the floor of the cabin.

Dalis appeared at the doorway carrying a platter of cooked fish and herbs from her kitchen window garden. She sat down, cross-legged, on the floor next to Sirath and lay the food between them. For about a minute nobody talked or ate the enticing food.

Then Dalis broke the silence, a frustrated tone evident in her voice, "what are you doing in Moonhaven?"

Sirath raised one ridged eyebrow. "Why do you want to know?" she almost sneered, but then that would be rude.

The woman pursed her lips. "Because I deserve to."

"We are in need of an army, to put it simply. That is all I will tell you."

Sirath bent her head away, ignoring Dalis's scowl. They sat in silence, one much unlike the one Sirath and Dain often shared - comforting and safe- This was cold, frustration radiating off the woman with rippling midnight hair which was unbound that morning.

This gave the blue dragon an opportunity to study Dalis. She appeared roughly eighteen, yet lived alone in the tiny cottage. She was fitted in a long twilight purple skirt and a neat, sleeveless, white tunic. Still peaking up on her neck and running down to her wrists was the tight black body suit, that, unlike yesterday, appeared dry and normal. Her feet were dressed in soft skin boots, that filled in the space beneath her skirt.

Aware of the dragon's scrutiny, Dalis absently rubbed her arms and played with a strand of hair, waiting hopefully for something to break the uncomfortable silence. Finally, such an event came.

Dain stumbled into the room. His eyes were bright and red, while his skin glistened a pale white where he had obviously applied the cream to his burns. Sirath contemplated how in Haven the old crone Myrin had discovered such a recipe which cured extreme burns so quickly.

He was wearing his old red tunic again, and Sirath realised how much it suited him, especially with the black leggings and boots. To break the silence of both females staring at him, Dain coughed and said to Dalis, "Good morning. I thank you for housing us. Is there a bath house anywhere? I haven't bathed in roughly three weeks." With that, he forced a laugh.

Dalis silently directed Dain to the other doorway, which apparently was her bed room. Following her finger line, Dain vanished and Sirath's heart ached. He looked frightened and small, weak, as if a word would blow him down.

"I'm sorry." Dalis finally said. "It's none of my business, and I probably shouldn't know if Scias is involved,"

Sirath certainly wasn't expecting an apology, nor did she need one. It was a Havian's nature to be curious. "What do you know of Scias?" She dared ask.

The dark skinned Havian smiled tightly. "Not much. Only that he lost his wife, mother and father to the dragons. And I wished he rotted in his dungeon's long ago."

"And don't we all,"

"Yes, and apparently we all have a death wish to, to dare speak badly of him," They shared a warm smile.