Of Men and Dragons: The last Knight

~Chapter 3~

golden sunlight shun through the narrow windows. Those few sunbeams woke Henry up after a very rough and uneasy sleep. His head ached horribly, but as he lifted his arm to rub his forehead with the backside of his hand he realized that his muscles ached even more so than his head. The memories of the past day were nothing more than a blur to him.

He only remembered the dream he had about Cyrvanyx and himself, drinking and laughing about jokes that weren't even funny. Then he realized that what he presumed was the wall next to his bed was moving up and down in slow breath-like motions. Slowly his eyes opened while he was still rubbing his forehead.

The first thing he realized was that he was not in his room. Empty bottles were scattered all over the ground, about seven mead bottles and four wine bottles, also one empty bottle of ale. Maybe his dream wasn't a dream after all?

He looked to his side, only to realize that his back was resting against the black dragon's belly. His eyes widened at the realization that the events of the last night had actually happened. But not soon after he began to smile as he watched how Cyrvanyx was half curled around himself in his sleep, with Henry in the middle.

Just for how long had they been up? And for how long had he been sleeping? A quick glance at the window in the wall told him that it was late in the morning. Even though the window was small and narrow, fresh sunlight filled the room in a cozy light.

Despite how much his muscles hurt, he still forced himself on his feet, shaking slightly as he took one unsteady step forward. He wasn't quite sure how long ago it was that he had been that drunk. That was probably ages ago. There were holes in his memory, and the bits of pieces he remembered didn't fit together.

"Henry..." The deep mumbling voice slightly startled him. "Is it... morning already?" He slowly lifted his head from the ground, looking at him with sleepy eyes.

"Yes it is." Henry said with a warm greeting smile. He arched his back as he stretched out his arms, feeling all his sore muscles protesting. "Gods..." He rubbed his entire face with a hand, trying to fit the pieces of memories together. "I can't remember... I... almost nothing."

"I do." Cyr sighed. "Some of those memories I would like to forget. Consider yourself lucky."

"Really? That bad?" Henry asked as he picked up a bottle of wine that didn't seem totally empty, so he took a sip or two.

"Well..." He tilted his head, staring at him with a stern look. "You made jokes about my... interest in Arylaryl."

Henry almost chocked on the wine as he spit it all out again. Due to the taste though, not what he had said. "Gods that tastes... wait what did you say?"

The dragon's look was just as stern as before, almost threatening. "You heard me, Henry."

"Well I... I mean... it was kind of funny that-"

"Funny?" Henry could hear the boiling anger in his deep voice. "You think that is funny?" The dragon's voice grew ever so menacing as he got louder with every word he said. "Say that again and I show you something funny."

"Cyrvanyx, I'm sorry, okay?" Henry turned around again and picked up a broken bottle from the ground. A Good idea for another topic crossed his mind. "How did this happen?"

Cyrvanyx sighed in slight annoyance. "After I got tired listening to your "witty" comments I threw a bottle at you, but I only hit the wall behind you." As Henry examined the bottle further, Cyr blasted out the next sentence. "in response you threw a bottle at my head... a full one."