The Loyal

25- On the Return

Sirath awoke the next morning with all her bones extremely stiff. She twisted and stretched in the water beneath Dalis's home, arching her spine and opening out her wings. The room was dim, a tiny ray of weak light filtering out from a gap in the curtains, everything was silent, she could barely even hear the gentle lapping of the waves outside.

Sirath smiled at the thought of how awkward and shy Dain had been when she'd interrogated him after the hearing. They returned to the wooden hut and spent the rest of the day, looking at maps, planning out routes and where an ideal hiding place would be. They'd decided to hide away for awhile and watch Scias's moves.

Princess Ophira had visited later in the evening. Thought the dragon was still wary, Dain seemed head over heels for her. She had brought them a platter of strange pastries filled with spices and meat, because Dalis was too distracted to cook for her guests. Then they ate out on the harbor, watching the golden sun settle on top of the smooth lake, looking identical to polished glass.

Dain tried his hardest to impress Ophira with tales of their adventure, though in Sirath's opinion, what they'd done so far did not seem very heroic. But, nevertheless, despite being saddened in seeing Dain being so happy with someone else, the two were extremely cute. Ophira flicking out her wrist, laden with bangles, as she spoke, and Dain smiling hugely, despite everything that had happened to him.

So Sirath and Dalis had spent the most of the evening discussing where the two companions could hide. At one point, they rested on going back to Aunty Myrin's comfortable homestead, but that idea was rapidly cast aside. Not only did Sirath not particularly like the old crone, but she probably would not appreciate the "silly boy" and the "impulsive dragon" living with her.

It was only until long after the radiant sun had sunken deep below the waves, and Ophira's voice could be head ringing out across the quiet balcony, did Sirath finally decide where they would set up a camp. The long road stretching between Moonhaven and Nighthaven was almost completely devoid of civilisation, neither Dalis nor Sirath could figure why. It housed a small forest which would be ideal for hunting for a dragon and secrecy. Sirath felt uneasy at how perfect this place seemed. For her, no where in Haven could be perfect.

So that morning, Sirath gracefully uncurled her body, flicking her tail out of the air and feeling a cool breeze wash through the half open window. Judging by the fact that Dalis's bedroom door was wide open, her bed made, and her swimming equipment, which usually lay in a tightly bound pack by the door, was absent, Sirath could tell that her newly found friend was already out on the waves.

The lounge door was also partially open, giving the sky blue dragon an unclear view at Dain. After a few minutes, Sirath could figure that Dain was standing in front of the mirror which sat on the drift wood dresser. Dain's face was twisted into a frown, his eyes staring fiercely at his reflection. His right hand was clasping his father's sword, Dinura, while it was sheathed, and his left hand was stretching across his body and laying over the hilt of the sword. Already his bag strapped over his back.

Sirath spread out her wings, accidentally hitting the light. Neither Sirath nor Dain knew what to feel. Their quest had somehow come to an abrupt end. Sure, most of the time it was terrifying, but it gave them a sense of purpose and a reason not to think of everything bad that had happened. Once they were in their new hide out, Sirath feared that all the horrors and nightmares would catch up with them.

Dain waked steadily into the room, calm resolve painted clearly onto his face. He gently slung his pack off his shoulders and onto the floor before sitting down by Sirath, his feet dipped in the crystal clear water. "Good morning,"

"I think so," Sirath agreed.

Dain smiled. "How'd you sleep?"

"As well as anyone could without drowning."