Talos and Cyrus

Chapter 20 - The Faeries

Cyrus blinked rapidly, trying but not succeeding in hiding his astonishment. His mother had long ago told him bedside tales of the hidden people who lived in the treetops, the elegant faeries, but he never knew them to be true.

"You're real?" he asked dumbly, studying the man before him more closely than ever. He looked human, but was it a mirage? The man laughed, along with his companions.

"As the morning sun, I'm afraid. I see we have been nearly forgotten by Men. I don't blame you, white hair, we haven't come in contact with your kind since the War between Dragon and Man."

He paused, looking about him as a twig snapped somewhere far off. One of the women standing before Cyrus laid a hand on the bow strapped to her back.

"I implore you," the man whispered. "To come with us. No good is being done while we just stand here. Another kifomti is sure to be lurking about."

Cyrus furrowed his brow, looking to Talos, who looked to be in a deep slumber, and then to the man.

"I won't leave my friend and what in all things holy is kifomti?" he almost growled, feeling irritation begin to redden his face. Talos was lying at his feet, the snake's poison in his flesh, and these people, these strangers were trying to take him away from his companion?

The man put up his hands as if in an attempt to calm him. Cyrus gritted his teeth.

"A kiftomti is the beast that just attacked your friend. Don't fret, he will be quite alright. We have an antidote for the monster's venom, but it doesn't do to wait around and allow it to spread. I assure you no harm will come to him. Just come with us and we will provide you with food and shelter."

Cyrus stayed at Talos' side stubbornly, his eyes shifting over to his shortsword momentarily. It was too far for him to sprint to and he knew he would be stopped before he even got close to it. His choices were dwindling.

"How long before he is healed?" he asked the man, his voice steady. His hands were shaking.

"In three sunrises he will be strong enough to stand, possibly more if he wishes to walk." The man answered, his voice hushed.

Cyrus felt his spirit plummet. They couldn't waste any more time, not when they have wasted so much already.

"As soon as my friend is healthy, we're gone." he said, rolling back his shoulders and straightening his back. He couldn't appear weak, not to these people. They just put two arrows through a giant snake's neck, weakness was not a trait they seemed to possess.

The man nodded, his light eyes swimming with concern.

"As you wish, white hair. Come with us now, your friend needs that antidote."

He motioned to his companions to follow as he began to walk forward, leaving the unconscious dragon behind him. With one last look to Talos, Cyrus reluctantly followed. Even though he didn't believe in such trivial things, he prayed to the sun goddess, Tonliotis, begging her to let the dragon live. He doubted she heard.

One faerie, a woman, knelt beside Talos, taking a tiny bottle out of a bag at her side. She unscrewed the top and poured a strange orange liquid over the dragon's wound, chanting something quietly all the while. Cyrus frowned and looked away, leaving the woman to her work. He made sure to pick up his short sword as he went, stuffing it back into his leather satchel. Somehow, he knew he wouldn't need it.

"What is your name, white hair?" the man asked as Cyrus caught up with him. He picked his way expertly through the forest, not even looking as he hopped over a mess of dry twigs.