Talos and Cyrus

Chapter 11 - The Caravan

They walked through the night, the stars lighting their way; they were wide awake from their nap they took hours before. The two walked right along the river's bank, partially exposed by the trees surrounding them as they grew sparser. Soon enough, they were journeying through an open field, the river slowly moving along with their footsteps.

"The world changes when night falls." Talos commented, wading into the gentle water lapping at the bank. His massive feet were barely submerged. Cyrus nodded.

"It's as if everything is different, but simultaneously still the same."

Talos grunted.

"It was never this quiet on Drak. Dragons are a loud bunch, we tend to snore rather obnoxiously and sleep restlessly. No wonder we've scared all our food away."

Cyrus chuckled.

"Well, you haven't woken me and I'm a light sleeper. Maybe you aren't as loud as you think you are."

The dragon hummed quietly, but then suddenly stopped short.

"Look ahead." Talos whispered, his head high and alert. Cyrus perked up and searched in vain. He couldn't see anything. It was too dark.

"What do you-"

He saw them. Lights in the distance. Two. Moving right towards them. He thought he even heard voices.

"I wouldn't doubt that's a caravan." Cyrus murmured, feeling his heart drop into his core. The fish they had eaten hours before suddenly wasn't sitting well in his stomach.

"Talos, you have to hide!" He hissed to the dragon, frantically looking around. They were in a field, surrounded by nothing. Panic started to rise in Cyrus' chest.

"Where?" Talos almost snarled, fighting to keep his voice low. The dragon looked as if he were panicking as well, which made Cyrus all the more anxious. He couldn't tell his companion to run, Talos would never be far enough away in time. The people would see him.

Cyrus gasped as he accidently stepped into the river water, his boot instantly becoming sopping wet.

"Damn this river!" he growled, leaping away and shaking his foot. The river moved along just as it always did, almost mocking him for getting his foot wet. Cyrus paused. The river...

"How long can you hold your breath?" he asked Talos. The dragon gave him a quizzical look, but it took only a moment for him to understand. He looked from Cyrus, to the water, and then to the lights growing ever nearer to them.

"Long enough." Talos responded.

* * *

Cyrus walked ahead, alone. He kept oddly close to the river, his eyes fixated on the lights in front of him. If he listened close enough, he could hear the water splash every so often. Sometimes, bubbles would float to the surface, threatening to betray whoever lingered below. Talos sat submerged in the water, his nose barely breaking the surface. Cyrus prayed to whatever god or goddess there was to keep his companion hidden and to provide him with as much breath as possible.

In front of him, a wagon appeared, drawn by two weary looking elkorses. Lanterns hung from it, swaying to and fro with the plodding of the beasts. A man sat on the wagon, reins in one hand and what appeared to be a bottle of rum in the other. Inside the wagon were several large sacks, most likely filled with useless treasures from other villages and cities. Two women walked alongside the wagon, their skirts just barely brushing the grass at their feet. One waved at Cyrus as they drew closer.

"Hello there!" she called, her voice nasally. "We didn't expect to meet anyone at this time of night."

Cyrus smiled at her in greeting.