Chapter 12 - The Unnamed Mountains

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Two days after their squabble with the Sheta Wolves in the woodlands behind Newingham, Talos and Cyrus made it to the blue peaks. Up close, they weren't as blue as they appeared from a distance. They were flourishing. On the tallest mountains, whole forests adorned their crests and small streams turned into small waterfalls, falling into the gray river they followed. Before them, Cyrus saw a clear path marked with flat stones caked into the ground. It wound this way and that, always sheltered by a thick column of trees. It was clear they weren't the first, nor would they be the last, to step foot here. How strange it was that Cyrus had never heard tell of these mountains. They were so grand and beautiful, he would have thought travellers and caravans would be instantly drawn to them. Beside him, Talos stared up at the mountains in awe.

"If only Drak could be this way," he murmured. "Our lives would be so very different."

Cyrus only smiled at the dragon and began to pick his way down the path, careful not to trip over any rocks. If any people had settled here before, it was impossible to tell. Nature had claimed everything. As Cyrus walked, he allowed his eyes to fully capture his surroundings and he spun around on his heel, gazing about. Talos followed closely behind, his footfalls light against the soft ground. Everything was magnificent. Rumwings and other species of birds soared from tree to tree while bucains, huge deer-like creatures with thick, wooly fur, leapt over logs and brambles. Cyrus even thought he saw a few wild carsohogs, huge, hairless boars with crimson skin and long ears, lumbering about in far off thicket. The gentle sounds of several waterfalls made his heart sing and the smell of flowers he had never seen before delighted him.

They journeyed through these mountains for the duration of the day, only stopping when the sky turned warm with a mixture of hazy oranges. Talos and Cyrus plopped down on the edge of a steep cliff, very far from the path and fortunately hidden by a dense pocket of trees. Talos lazed about while Cyrus roasted a small fish over the fire; he had finally caught a fish on his own. The yellow dragon let out a tiny groan and rested his head atop the thick grass, watching as a bucain ventured a little too close to their tiny camp. He sent it prancing away with an abrupt snort. Cyrus smirked and threw a charred bit of his fish to Talos, who caught it deftly in between his teeth.

"Not the greatest creature to have ever graced my taste buds." the dragon hummed, downing the blackened fish in a single swallow.

"Graced your taste buds?" Cyrus chuckled, blowing on a smoking piece of the fish. Talos stretched out his neck and poked Cyrus in the back with his rocky nose. His hot breath blew his white hair skywards.

"I happen to enjoy using my extensive vocabulary." the dragon growled lightly. Cyrus chuckled again and looked back at his companion.

"I'm not complaining. It's quite amusing." he teased, thumping the dragon's snout with his palm. Talos blew in his face and drew his head away, resting it on his feet. Nearby, a lone rumwing squawked and took flight. Cyrus lifted his head.

The air was ripped apart by a sudden, sickening screech, like the sound of a squealing hog. Cyrus didn't even have time to look about for the disturbance.

Two massive black shapes exploded into view from beneath the cliff and they shot towards the clouds, all the while omitting the same terrible screech. The shapes, which were monstrous, reptilian creatures with thin leathery wings protruding from their backs, plastered their wings to their sides and began to dive directly towards Cyrus and Talos, like thin, ebony streaks. Talos leapt to his feet and bellowed a roar so deafening that even the trees seemed to quake. But the black creatures seemed unperturbed. Cyrus scrambled away just in time before the two black creatures landed smoothly on the ground, their lithe bodies pressed against the grass. The creatures were horrifyingly daunting and certainly looked terrible, and Cyrus would have collapsed with fright if it weren't for the men atop their glistening backs.

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