Talos and Cyrus

Chapter 26 - To a Close

It felt as if the flight would never end. Talos soared through the clouds, his wings flapping every so often. The dragon was a natural at flying, though Cyrus was hardly surprised. Talos did fly from Drak all the way to the small creek where they had first met. But that was different. Now, the dragon flew effortlessly with no looming threat of fatigue, not having to rely on the wind to carry him to his destination.

Slowly, very slowly, the blue mountains of Paelford drew nearer and with them, the green woodlands at their bases. From what Cyrus had heard, the trees formed a natural, wide path to gates of the city itself, which always stood heavily guarded. That worried him. How would the guards react to a massive yellow dragon landing at their doorstep?

Talos didn't seem the least bit anxious, even when Cyrus told him about the guards.

"They will let us through." the dragon said above the wind, turning his head to meet Cyrus' eyes.

Cyrus nodded to him, trying to swallow his fear.

Talos flew on through the morning and, when the sun was reaching her highest point in the sky, he angled his wings and began to gradually decline, aiming for the woodlands of Paelford. Now that they were so close, the blue peaks weren't so blue anymore, but green. They looked to be thriving with ample amounts of wildlife.

Talos swooped down lower and soon enough, his clawed feet were whizzing past towering branches and stray leaves. His head was turning back and forth, searching for the path that would lead them to the end of their journey.

Cyrus searched as well, his eyes scanning the treetops. Before them, the tall mountains loomed like beacons.

Suddenly, Talos lurched to the right and folded his wings slightly, racing towards the ground far more quickly than Cyrus would have liked. At that moment though, he couldn't bring himself to snap a jibe at the dragon. He had spotted the path just as Talos had, and joy was dancing in his very core.

The path was wide and barren of trees and grass, thousands of footsteps caked into the dry dirt. Talos soared towards it and pulled upwards at the last possible second, his feet touching the earth ever so softly. The dragon hunched his shoulders and hung his head, trying to catch his breath. Apparent fatigue made his wings tremble.

Cyrus unhooked himself from the saddle and with care, slid ungracefully down the dragon's side, nearly losing his footing as he hit the ground. The dirt below his feet moved violently, jerking this way and that and forcing Cyrus to grab hold of Talos' leg. The dragon let out a breathy chuckle.

"I am not very used to be grounded myself," Talos grumbled. "It'll wear off in a moment."

Cyrus nodded, focusing on not being sick, and started to walk forward. The dragon followed closely behind, his feet falling heavily upon the pathway.

The path was impossibly long and strangely, completely devoid of other travelers. Cyrus hardly had the mind to ponder upon such things. He began to stumble as he walked, his legs exhausted from having to strain to keep him in place during the entirety of the flight over. He was incredibly tired, but he soldiered on. If Talos walked, he walked.

And so they hiked until the sun, who had reached her pinnacle hours before, started to fall. When the sky began to change from a pale blue to a deep orange, Cyrus saw the gates.

They were much larger than the pair in Mahali Patakatifu and a lot less colorful. They were plain doors, but they served their purpose well. Wedged in between two tall scout towers, which in turn were wedged between two mountains, the gates were massive, nearly skimming the top of the sky. At their base, as Cyrus expected, were four spear wielding guards. They all wore silver armor with helms that covered the entirety of their faces. They seemed to all be idly chatting with each other as the two drew closer.