Of Men and Dragons: The last Knight

~Chapter 7~

Cyrvanyx' eyes went wide as he watched Henry falling to the ground. His body didn't move, not a single muscle. Did that mean... was he...

No, he could not be. Henry just could not be dead.

He felt tears forming in his eyes, but he quickly blinked them away. He could still save him, or at least try.

Without a second thought he stormed forward into the waves of enemies that stepped all over Henry's body. Before any of them was able to stop him he pushed them all away, sending waves of flames after them. As the surrounding enemies held up their shields to protect themselves, Cyrvanyx picked up Henry with his paw and pressed him closely to his chest. With two beats of his wings he leaped away from them, bringing Henry into safety, if he could call having only a thin line of allied men between him and the enemy safety.

"Henry!" There was fear in him like he never felt before which he could clearly hear in his own voice. He never lost anyone dear to him, not in that way. Those dragons who died fighting, he knew them all only barely. Henry always was his one and only true friend he had in the order. "Henry!"

He almost yanked his helmet off of his head after he cut the leather strap open with an unsheathed claw. What he saw horrified him. Blood was running down the side of his head at the exact spot where his helmet bore a dent. It was not the sight of blood that horrified him, he'd seen plenty of it. What horrified him was the fact that he was bleeding from his head and didn't appear to be breathing.

He looked dead, but he still refused to believe it. He shook his head while tears were running down his cheeks. The battle behind was forgotten for a second and all he could hear was his sobbing. "Please..." He desperately begged for some kind of miracle. "... please don't die..." For him, that moment felt like an eternity, whereas it really were just a couple of seconds.

"Cyrvanyx, what are you doing?" The grandmaster stepped up next to him with a bloody greatsword in his hands. "Glaring at him won't bring him back from the dead!"

"I refuse to believe that he is dead!" He roared at him, anger replacing his grief.

"Doesn't matter whether you believe it or not, he is dead and we will soon follow him!" He placed a hand on Cyr's shoulder and looked at the sky. "But you don't have to! You have wings you have a chance of escaping this alive and tell your clan what happened here! Maybe then they will finally consider aiding us in this war against Ulric's mongrels!"

Cyrvanyx glared at Grandmaster Maldwyn like he never glared at him before, with anger. "I'm just as sworn to protect this order as you are and-"

"yes you are! And that means that you have to follow my orders! I might be dead soon but as long as I still live I am your grandmaster!" He pulled his hand away and put it back on the hilt of his sword. "The others will go as well! You're not going alone! Go and tell your clan! That might be our last chance for us to win this war!" Without further words he ran towards Arylaryl, probably to tell her the same thing.

He was not sure how to feel about those orders. His gaze wandered back towards Henry and then it fell on Ary. He did not want her to die, especially after he lost Henry. He watched as the grandmaster spoke to his son, Gareth, while they were standing next to Ary. they appeared to be discussing something before Gareth ran back into the battlefield, Ary and the grandmaster following him. From what he could pick up he understood that Ary should take Gareth with her, but he didn't want to leave the order behind, so he charged back into battle.

He already made his decision, he would follow Maldwyn's orders. And if Ary could take Gareth with her then he could take Henry with him. Maybe there was still away to...