The ground was slick with blood, the air heavy with the scent of death. Steel met steel in a furious clash on the frontline, almost drowned out by the agonized screams of the dying. Never had Henry been in such a devastating battle. The number of losses on Albia's side must have been so high at this point he did not dare count. Not to mention the dragons. The enemy had brought several of them down already. It was a feat not achieved by anyone in such a manner in over 1000 years. It was their cursed poison they brought form their island, had to be. Some of those ballista shots should not have been fatal, and yet they were. The other dragons had no choice but to land.

That was where Henry found himself now, upon the back of his companion. Cyrvanyx was slashing bloody gauges into the enemy lines while Henry did his best to stab at them with his lance. One man he saw get ripped in two by Cyrvanyx. A few other tried to swarm him, but the armor that covered most of his black scales with large and smaller steel plates did its job well. Henry heard a war horn sound and looked to the left. The enemy cavalry was charging. Damn those mercenaries, Henry thought. Meeting them he saw their leader, the king himself, Aerdur Andraig in his gilded armor. The Kingsguard followed close behind.

To his right he heard a voice call out to him in a familiar tone, but it drowned out by the sound of battle. All around brothers-in-arms lay dead. It appeared as if the only ones doing true damage were the dragons themselves. It was disheartening to see, even more so when Henry spotted a dragon of their order lying dead behind enemy lines, a great arrow stuck in his chest. All around he could almost feel the will of the men waver. Any moment now the line would break and would be lost.

That moment of reflection ended when something unseen knocked him off Cyrvanyx. Strange, was I not strapped in? Thought some distant part of his mind as he came back to his feet. The plate armor that covered his body suddenly felt all the heavier as exhaustion hit him like a brick. When he was up on his feet all allies were gone, even Cyrvanyx. That did not make any sense. Again a voice called out, very far away. Was that not Cyrvanyx?

All allies were gone, but the enemies were not. He could not wallow in his confusion for long as dozens, hundreds of heavily armed Briinaborien Infantry charged at him. The rest was merely a haze of blood and sweat. The narrow confines of his helmet slit made it all the more harrowing, sweat dripping from within and into his eyes making it even harder to see. Somehow he had knocked one practically big man to the ground in the chaos and was beating him with his sword. What was he doing? Why were the others not attacking him? The reasonable part of his mind already knew something was wrong, this never really happened that way, and yet he kept swinging.

The voices got louder and he felt someone grab him, someone strong. “Henry! Get a hold of yourself!" This time it was clear, that was Cyrvanyx. Where were you when I needed you, can't you see them? He thought as he struggled against the grasp. No man was that strong. “You are home, Henry, you are home!"

He was home? His breathing was heavy as was his mind. The area around him was not truly the field it Dimbarrow. He was in the courtyard of Dragonstone Castle, the Orders Headquarters. It was training hour, he reminded himself, as he looked down to see his body covered in a dark blue padded gambeson and a training sword in his hand. That battle was weeks ago. The greatest defeat in Albia's recent history. It still felt like he was there. His hands were shaking. Only then did he realize that he was being held by none other than the grumpy black dragon whose voice ripped him from that terrible day dream.

On the ground though, lay his squire, holding up his arms in defeat. Had he beat him in his stupor? His padded armor seemed to have kept him in well enough shape. Henry still felt terrible. The poor boy looked rightfully terrified. “You… alright, mate?" Henry heard his own speech be a bit muddy and slurred. Hopefully that was still the effect of the daydream and not the drink last night. He heard a grunt from behind himself. Right, the grump was holding him.

He glanced up at the dragon when he got pushed forward, barely staying on his feet as he walked a few involuntary steps forward. The dragon looked down at him in disapproval, shaking his wedge-shaped head, the deep red frills on his cheeks and the back of his neck all flattened down. "Henry, what was wrong with you? You're lucky I got you out of it before the grandmaster saw it!" He hissed at him in quiet urgency. "And Gareth is still waiting for you to join him in a sparring match." He glanced to the squire who was getting up slowly, mumbling his assurances that he was fine. “Your actual sparring match."

Henry rubbed his forehead, feeling a bit further up that his dark brown hair was bound into a ponytail, as he looked around the great inner courtyard of castle for any sight of the red-haired fellow. He caught sight of him standing near the well, talking to a lower ranking knight in the order, a knight, but not quite a knight of the dragon. It was a privilege only for the best knights who have proven their worth and valor. For Henry's part it might have been partly thanks to his family's relations with the king and the grandmaster that he could gain access to the inner cycle so quickly compared to others. Having jumped up to the rank of knight of the dragon only after little more than a year in service was quite the feat. Thus being paired with a dragon from the northern dragon clans who had proven himself the same way Henry had. Perseverance, strength, stamina, many qualities could get you a place. It was just really important that the right people saw it.

Yet at the moment, he did not at all feel like the warrior he was raised to be. He barely got into his training outfit and held his sword in hand before he began to feel the effects of last night's drinks. His usually piercing golden eyes, his most striking feature, were bleary and unfocused. Cyrvanyx still glared at him as though he was to apologize, but he did not feel sorry for it at all. After the misery they had suffered at Dimbarrow, being ordered to retreat and reassemble at the Order's Castle, there was nothing but shame. The grandmaster would not obey royal orders and yet he would complain often that they should be in the capital to defend the king, which Henry wholeheartedly agreed with. But after all that it was nice to have a reason to celebrate. His wife and son would soon arrive at the Castle to visit him; it was assured to him via letter bearing his family's seal. It was the only source of joy other than the bottle he had found ever since Dimbarrow.

Sadly, Cyrvanyx did not want to come no matter how much he tried to persuade him into coming. It was always the same with him. Instead of having fun for just a while, he insists on training and their duty. He always did.

Not even trying to hide the annoyance in his voice, he said to him. "And he may wait longer, gods know that all this training is worthless with Ulric the invader marching on the capital with no more resistance in sight. So it can do no harm to-"

"The grandmaster's orders are to continue the training and be always ready to be called upon by his majesty. It does not matter that the grandmaster himself does not approve of it, the grandmaster-"

"Cyrvanyx." Henry said, even more annoyance flooding into his voice. "Please just call him by his name for once! This is not some council meeting we're talking in private here." He looked away and leaned his weight onto his training sword after he rammed the tip, that was dull anyways, into the ground. "Stop the formalities and have fun for once, like me and the others. The gods know I needed it with all this... chaos going on. My wife and son will come to visit. Is that no reason for me to be celebrate and have fun? At least for a time?"

He asked those questions with a hint of bitterness in his voice while not even looking at the big black dragon. Cyrvanyx was his friend and he had known him and fought with him for ten years now, exactly ten years by tomorrow, he remembered, but he could be difficult at times. For a dragon he was quite unique, but not really in a good way. While all the others were spending time together, drinking with their human companions and the other dragons he was just... he didn't even knew what he did all the time.

When Henry looked back at him he did not look into his eyes, keeping his gaze low instead. The dragon's shoulders about reached Henry's head height when standing on all fours, which was normal amongst the dragons who lived in the kingdom of Albia. Overall his body might best be compared with a really big horse, bigger than any real horse could ever be with a longer body and much longer tail alongside great wings. For a couple of seconds, he stared at his thick-scaled chest, waiting for an answer. When none came he peered upwards to look into Cyr's golden eyes. The dragon looked down at him with a softened expression that almost looked like regret to some extent. It was gone as soon as it appeared as he blinked it away and looked further into the courtyard where the other dragons all sat around their instructor, a dragon of high age who had served in the order longer than anyone alive.

"I will go to the others. I suppose we will continue our training on how to dodge those ballista bolts." He glanced at Henry again as he took the first step towards them, stopping to just to say. "You can celebrate when your family is here, not before or after. We have our duties, Henry." With that said, he left him behind alone to deal with his massive headache and Gareth. Hopefully he would understand that he was not really in great condition to practice.

Later that day, after the training was over, he fell into the bed of his room and planned to stay there until dinner would be served in the great hall. To his dismay Gareth insisted on practicing despite his headache, smirking at him with a grin that spoke only of amusement. He was there too the night before, drinking with the others, but evidently didn't take it as far. Being the son of the grandmaster it would obviously not do to be hung-over during training. At least he vowed to not tell his father about it, which at least brought some light to the otherwise pretty bland and exhausting day.

Gareth too shared the opinion of his father and of Henry that just waiting in the castle for further orders while the countryside was plagued by Ulric's mongrels was useless. It was rumored that the order was influenced by Lord Edwin, the king's closest advisor, who told the king that it would be best to let the men and dragons of the order to gather their strength before returning to combat. It was a load of nonsense, they could just as well do that in the capital city Brenin, at least to his knowledge. It seemed strange, but who was he to question such orders.

The evening went on as they usually did. Words were exchanged not so quietly as all manner of food was brought in from the kitchen into the main hall, by far the biggest room in the keep. That was saying something, as the whole structure was built with dragons in mind. Large rounded pillars held up the ceiling, engraved with imagery of dragons in flight. Whereas the stone walls were whitewashed and much of them covered with tapestries or wall paintings. Henry watched them quietly when he was finished with his own meal, chuckling to himself as he saw Arylaryl, a green and blue dragoness who was Gareth's companion, put a whole roasted chicken in her maw. Sure, for her size it was normal, but it was still baffling to look at.

He averted his gaze from her, going through some of the dragons until his eyes set on the black scaled dragon sitting by himself, Cyrvanyx. He was eating with more manners than the others of his kind, only one example of his surprisingly human-like manners. It was easier for humans to deal with him but in exchange for that most of the dragons chose to ignore him most of the time. He saw Cyr raise his head from his food platter, again, looking over at Arylaryl in a strange way. He had seen him do that before, just not as subtly. It almost looked like he was trying to not be seen watching her. It was strange.

"He really does have eyes for her, doesn't he?" Gareth's voice suddenly startled Henry out of his thoughts.

"I'm sorry what did you say?" Henry asked in confusion, frowning at his brother-in-arms.

"Ah, come on, don't tell me you never noticed before?" Gareth chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. Very discreetly, he pointed towards Cyrvanyx with his fork. "Just look at him. Tell me that look he has in his eyes doesn't say what I think it says."

Henry did as he said and turned his head to look over to his old friend, with more attention this time. Something was definitely there in his eyes as he watched that dragoness. One couldn't be sure what exactly it was from so far away however and he didn't want to jump to any conclusions.

Gareth was more than happy to do that for him though. "Oh he is in love with her, mark my words."

"What?" Henry uttered in confusion. "There is no way. The only thing he got in his thick skull is duty." He chuckled and took another bite of bread. When he glanced at Gareth he only glared at him with a serious expression, nudging his head towards Ary and Cyr. "Wait, you're serious?" He asked with his mouth half filled with food.

"Yes, I totally am." A grin crossed his face. "He is all shy about it though, you can see that. You should confront him about it later tonight." He took a sip of water, sighing in satisfaction. "Didn't you mention you were planning on having a drink or two with him tonight anyway?"

Nodding to the question, Henry too took a sip of water. It marked their ten year anniversary that very day which did not really mean much to Cyrvanyx or even Henry in that sense. Dragon's didn't even keep count of the years like men do. No, Henry really just needed a reason to get the dragon to relax for a bit and enjoy some easy chat and drink. It had been like that the first years of their companionship. Ever since he had become more and more reclusive and more obsessed with his duty.

"Maybe I will mention it." Henry at last announced with a sly smirk to which Gareth raised his mug to Henry's own in the air. It may not be ale or wine but still good enough to toast to friendship.

The dinner went on for a while longer and the mood overall was quiet except for a few cheery fellows here and there. If not for them the hall was filled with only hushed whispers and the sounds of many people eating their dinner, alongside some dragons. That was until at the end of the hall the grandmaster stepped onto the podium, calling out in his deep and authoritarian voice. "Attention everyone!" And the hall was quiet in mere seconds, all eyes set on Grandmaster Maldwyn.

What Henry saw in the grandmaster he didn't like one bit. The old man stood there in his usual golden rimmed blue gambeson and with the same long beard and hair. His face however was not as stoic as he usually was, no. He looked distraught. Seeing a man like Maldwyn appear so saddened and worried was enough to let even a war veteran's blood run cold.

The Grandmaster cleared his throat and looked all over the grand hall. "Gentleman and dragons." He began, his voice signaling the same distress as his face. Already worried looks were exchanged amongst many of the knights gathered around the tables. "I have received a letter today, a few hours ago to be exact, given to me by a weary messenger." He held up a piece of rolled up parchment. "Said he had urgent news. And let me tell you, his words were an understatement."

Whispers were spreading throughout the crowd. Henry meanwhile only stared and listened, a chill already running down his back. "Ulric and his people have pushed onwards further eastwards, quicker than we anticipated. His goal was of course Alcester, the capital, and thus the king. And my good men... I shall not try to say this in a calming manner because there is no possible way to achieve that..." He paused briefly, taking a deep breath. "Alcester has fallen and king Aerdur with it."

An icy chill ran through Henry's entire body as those words echoed through the hall and the minds of every knight and dragon present. Gasps of shock, wide eyed stares, those were the reactions from most at first. When Henry briefly glanced over to Cyrvanyx he looked like he had been hit by a ballista, wide eyes and muzzle hanging open, ear glued to his head and frills lowered. One fiery spirited young knight stood up and called out . "And we are sitting here on our arses while Ulric sits on the king's thrown?" He spoke out aloud what everyone else was also thinking, and so he got many words of agreement.

"Silence!" Grandmaster Maldwyn silenced the entire hall with one word, even some of the dragons cringing as he brought his fist down on the wooden railing on his podium. He silenced the chaos before it truly began and the iron gaze he gave everyone in the hall was enough to bring down the last bits of noise. "I know what you all must be thinking and I assure you, it hasn't been easy on me. King Aerdur has not just been my liege but also a good friend..." He gulped, tears building in the eyes of this otherwise stoic man. "As many of you know. We have suffered a great loss, one that struck us all to the very core. The news is as fresh as can be so... it did not happen that long ago."

"What about the prince? The princess?" Cyrvanyx suddenly spoke up from his solitary corner, receiving many an 'aye' from the knights all over, Henry included as well as Gareth.

"I don't know." Maldwyn said in a heartbroken voice. "We can only hope for the best, hope that they somehow escaped with their lives. But whatever it may be." He visibly gathered more of his strength. "We will not be broken by this act." He held up the letter again. "In this message we are asked to surrender our arms and armor so we may live and join them in their war against our countrymen. In good faith, it said, they would allow the dragons to safely return back home to the highlands. These words were written by none other than Lord Edwyn of Whitehall!" He grew louder and angrier, ripping the letter into pieces as more men in the hall shared his growing anger. "A bloody traitor!"

More men joined in on his anger, including most of the dragons, only Cyrvanyx remained reserved, only staring up at the grandmaster with a deep frown and fire in his eyes. Henry did the exact same as his companion, at first. Soon he too got on his feet and cursed the traitor. "May he burn alongside the invaders!" His voice was drowned amongst all the others calling out similar things.

"We however will not obey this bastards so called 'offer'!" The grandmaster's voice drowned all the others, filled with anger and determination. "He will not make us kneel and fight in his battles! No! We are of Albia! Whether you are men or dragon we are one people! One culture! This order has stood for that ideal for centuries! And it will not fall in this one!"

The men now all stood up, their roars matching that of the dragons. Even Cyrvanyx joined in this time, all their anger and frustration cumulating into determination to win. "We will strike them down and them the dragon's wrath!" He finally drew his sword, thrust it in the air and thumping his hand to his chest. "For we are the dragonhearted!"

"For we are the dragonhearted!" Everyone repeated the motion, answering the call in perfect union. The cheering went on for a bit longer before the grandmaster raised his arm to silence everyone. It took a bit longer this time to get the hall quite again, no surprise there. "For now, you are all dismissed." The grandmaster said, way more reserved than he had been only moments ago.. "I shall gather you all here at another time so we may discuss our next action. For now though we should all think these news over... for it affects us all. That'll be all for now." And with that said he stepped off the podium, leaving the room.

To no surprise the room went up in wild discussions once the grandmaster was gone. Some were already leaving the hall in silence while most preferred to fester their feelings in heated discussions about the current situation. For Henry it was best to just leave. He left the room in a hurry, taking a deep breath once he was in the hallway. He pressed his face into his hands, his mind going all over the place as he tried to collect his thoughts. At last he settled one thing, which was the night he wanted to spend with Cyrvanyx. What Gareth had mentioned also came to mind for a moment but mostly he was just thinking about having a drink with his old friend for the first time in what felt like forever.

A drink was what he needed above all right now, he thought.

With the sun lowering on the horizon, the sky turning a brilliant red fire, growing dimmer as the evening turned into night. It was already autumn so the sun was setting relatively early in the day which to Henry meant he had a longer night to spend with his friend. It was around the hour that most brothers as well as dragons were already asleep when Henry decided to pay a visit to Cyr's personal quarters.

Beneath the castle grounds they were, the dragon quarters. A large stairwell led down there with steps big enough for dragon paws. The hall underneath was equally big to the dining hall except that it was divided into rooms by thick stone walls including several pillars that kept the place from collapsing. Much like the upper grounds the walls were painted with colorful murals, most of which depicted scenes of dragons in flight, both on the upper on lower levels. In the dragon quarters however they were mostly of dragons without their riders and of scenes from the highlands from where they all came. To remind them all of their old lives and give them a taste of home in this place, Henry always thought.

Cyrvanyx' room was the third door on the left side. It was so deeply engraved into Henry's memory he could walk through the place blind and still find it. In his hands he bore a crate filled with the most exquisite kinds of alcoholic pleasantries they had at the castle. To have the grandmaster's son as his friend was a great privilege as he had gained access to the best wine and ale they had in stock. On top of that he also dressed for the occasion, wearing a long dark blue gambeson with golden edges as well as a sash of tartan weavings with bright blue, deep red and black. It was the old colors of his family from all the way back when they were just a clan amongst many others before there even was a kingdom of Albia. He didn't wear it often these days, as he was affiliated with the order more so than his family. This time however he thought it a right moment.

All the lights inside the hall downstairs were already out so he in fact did have to find the door blind, which he did easily enough. The wood creaked just slightly as he pushed the door open. As expected the dragon was already sleeping on his bedding, made up of pillows and furs for the most part. The room was shrouded in darkness other than the bit of moonlight shining through the narrow windows in the walls. He set the crate down next to the door once he closed them behind himself, slowly so to not make too much sound. At the moment Cyrvanyx lay on his side with his limps sprawled in all directions and his wings half unfolded. The position gave Henry a good view of his underside, including the softer parts between his hindlegs. Henry thought about waking him up that way. Seeing a grown fearsome dragon roll around while mewling in a high pitched voice would no doubt be the funniest thing he were ever to see. Ultimately he decided against it though. It probably wouldn't put him in a festive mood to be awoken by a stinging pain in his nether regions.

So instead he snuck up on his head as quietly as he could manage and decided to wake him up in a more friendly manner. He sat down right beside his head, gently taking his ear into his grasp. Then, he said out loud in his best impression of the grandmaster, quite enough so no one else would hear. "Get yer arse up yer lazy lizard!" He himself was impressed with how well he could do Maldwyn's voice. Cyr seemed to be as well since he practically jumped up when he heard him, rolling over onto his belly and getting up as fast as he could. "Yes sir! I am sorry- ah!" He got up too quickly in fact, hitting the ceiling with his head.

Henry went to laughing his ass of right away while poor Cyrvanyx composed himself. He shook his mildly aching head, his mind still fuzzy and eyes blurry. He shook his head again and his eyes began to focus, which was when he spotted Henry nearly pissing himself with laughter. "Awwh..." Cyr groaned in annoyance. "You have to be kidding me."

"Hahaha!" He lay on his back, holding his stomach. "Your... face! Haha! When I woke you! Your eyes went so wide! This was way better than kicking you in the balls hahaha!"

"Wait..." He scrunched his muzzle as he sat up on his haunches. "what was that?"

"Oh," He just waved it off as he slowly recomposed himself. "I just thought about it but decided that you would get way too grumpy and angry when I did that."

Cyr glared at him with narrowed eyes. "I. Still. Am."

"Oh come on." Henry said with a chuckle as he got up. "How else was I gonna get you up?"

"How about not at all? Tomorrow is another day of training and unlike you I only take days off on Sul-Dydd, as it is supposed to be."

Henry just laughed, folding his arms. "You never take a day off. I can probably count the times I have seen you converse with the other dragons off my fingers. Besides we got a reason to celebrate!"

"You always find some excuse to get drunk Henry, but not me." The dragon huffed. "Now if you would leave me to rest I would be grateful."

"No no, wait!" Henry urgently demanded as he got two bottles from the crate. "Just hold on, alright? I am sorry to wake you up like that but... I just want to spend some time with you. Who knows when we get to do that again? If at all..." Slowly he saw Cyr's gaze soften and he pressed his advantage as soon as he spotted it. "For all we know we may as well be dead soon. It was Edwyn who ensured we were all here instead of at the capital. He knows how important our order is for Albia. Not just militarily, but culturally as well. What if they are coming here next, hmm?"

"Dragonstone is a stronghold that can hold off any number of attackers as well as hold two whole years against a siege." Cyrvanyx claimed with confidence. "Is that not why your family is coming here? Because this place is impenetrable?"

The question struck Henry in a way he did not expect. He practically froze, staring at Cyr with his penetrating golden eyes. "I... yes, I have. But now that things have changed I would have rather send them to Elise's family in Avylon. They would be safe there for certain. Here? I am no longer sure."

"... Elise who?" Cyr asked in confusion. When Henry just sighed, looking at him with one raised eyebrow he answered his own question. "Oh, your wife, right... sorry." He looked away, slightly embarrassed.

Henry chuckled at the sight and approached his old friend. With another sigh he sat down next to him, gesturing for Cyr to lie down and relax. He did just so, laying his head onto his forelegs right next to Henry. "I am still happy that they're coming here, deep down." Henry went on with the conversation. "And yet... I have the feeling that it will prove to be a terrible mistake." He set down the bottles, sighing as his worries slowly got the better of him. "What if they are caught on the road. Sure they have guards with them but not nearly enough to hold off a whole army crossing their path. They could take them hostage and do... gods know what with them!"

He glared down at the ground with a burning glare. His mind was filled with so many horrible scenarios that they overshadowed all the fun ideas he had for the night. When he felt a paw grasp his shoulder though, gentle despite the size, he slowly relaxed. "And I thought you were the one who told me not to dwell on worries like these once." He said with a genuine smile.

That made Henry chuckle, if only briefly. "I know, I know. This is different though. This is about family. The only family I have left other than my uncle and, well, the order. The possibility to die in this place would be easier to swallow when I know that William and Elise won't follow me."

"Henry, this isn't you right now." Cyr reassured him in a soft voice. "Thinking about this now won't help you." When Henry had just opened a bottle, shrugging and sighing at Cyr's words, the dragon took the bottle out of his grasp. "And this won't help either." He set the bottle down on the other side of his body. Right when he did that Henry already had the next bottle in his view. Before he could even grab it Cyr got it first, setting it beside the other one.

"Oh you're no fun." Henry complained, folding his arms like an upset child.

"It is possible to have fun without drinking until you can't walk in a straight line."

"Oh, that is only when it starts, my friend." He chuckled, a smile crossing his lips. "That means you agree to have some fun tonight, eh?"

"I..." His eyes briefly widened before he groaned in frustration. "I should be sleeping right now."

"Ha, not yet you're not." Henry's spirits were already rising after the mention of his wife and child. Distraction from dark thoughts was one of the reasons he wanted to spend the night with his old friend and companion. He was glad it worked in a way as he had hoped. "We're in for a night of fun, us two."

"And what 'fun' would that be?" Cyrvanyx sounded less than enthusiastic, as was to be expected. A sigh then came from him as Henry went to the crate filled with bottles. "Something that doesn't involve getting drunk?"

"Oh... right..." He had just reached the crate and set down a bottle again that he had picked up. "that limits down the things I usually do greatly..." He said to himself, stroking his chin. Cyrvanyx sighed again as he heard him, shaking his head and mumbling something to himself in draconic."Hmm... how about we play cards?"

Cryvanyx slowly sat up on his haunches so he could look down on Henry who was standing beside the crate. "...cards?" He sounded, once again, less than enthusiastic, looking down on him with narrowed eyes.

"It was the first thing that came to mind." He defended himself which did not at all seem to change the dragon's mood. Eventually Henry slumped down the wall with a frustrated sigh. "Just... talk then? How about we just talk?"

The dragon's expression softened but he still seemed unconvinced. "Talk about what?"

"Fuck I don't know, something?" Henry stared up at him with his arms spread wide and his brow furrowed. "When's the last time you had a proper conversation with anyone?" When Cyr opened his maw he interjected right away. "One that did not include our duties, training or anything about the order." With that the dragon closed his maw again and for a couple of seconds there was utter silence between them.

"I see, heh." Henry's chuckle ended with a sigh, nodding as he watched his friend's expression darken, like he had just now understood what Henry meant. "I suppose I'll start then." He popped a bottle open despite Cyr's previous complaints. "Why did you join the order?" He asked, then took a big gulp from the bottle.

Shifting on his haunches, Cyr looked at him confused. "I thought you wanted to talk of something not to do with the order?"

"Ah, this is different, Cyr. It's about your past. And I don't think you ever actually told me why you volunteered after I rose up in the ranks." He tapped the bottleneck with a finger as he watched Cyr lay back down on his belly. "I remember your father is a sucker for tradition and the good old days when dragons and the men of Albia where still... closer than now."

"I'd say we still are pretty close." Cyr claimed, a subtle grin actually forming on his muzzle. "I think you wouldn't find a man convincing a dragon to drink with him in Redoria."

"And failing in doing so." Henry said as he raised his bottle of fine ale highland ale. "But before that one... tragedy... we were much closer. If the dragon clans were still united under a high king and allied with the Albien Crown Ulric wouldn't have even reached bloody Dimbarrow."

"And yet the only remnant of that alliance are we now." Cyr spoke with swelling pride in his voice. "So... yes, to answer your question, my father had something to do with my joining. The moment the news of a new knight raising in the ranks and that a dragon was to be found worthy of the order he was the first to know in our clan and I knew soon after." He smiled wistfully for just a moment before going on. "Me and him haven't always been on best terms but in this case we agreed. So I joined the trials and proved myself worthy above the others that tried. Wasn't the strongest, or the fastest, but the most determined and strong willed. Which is why they decided we would fit perfectly."

Henry took another gulp from the bottle, shaking his head as he chuckled. "We do fit, more or less. If you loosened up like this more often it may be like when we started out again. Those were the days." Yet more liquid was poured down his throat. He sighed contently, keeping his eyes closed for a while.

"Yes I..." He cleared his throat. "I just like being alone from time to time. To read and think and eh... write as well."

"Oh?" Henry opened his eyes, curiosity gleaming within them. "You still do that? Thought you gave up on that years back."

"I do, from time to time, yeah." He smiled but the gesture seemed almost forced.

"Well, what do you write? Stories? Something educational?" He asked with a grin on his face to which Cyr only shook his head gently. "... Poems?" A big grin was spreading across his face when he could see in the dragon's expression that poems it was. "Oh dear gods, really?" He laughed to himself.

"Only sometimes! It is hard to even do that on parchment with claws, you know? Always have to get really thick ones." Cyr huffed, turning his head away like a sulking child. "No need to make fun of it."

Henry's laughter was silenced right away, his grin dropping. "Hey now I wasn't doing that! I was just having a laugh at the fact that a fierce and strict dragon who always thinks of his duty first writes poems in his spare time."

In a slow motions Cyr turned his head back to face him with narrowed eyes. "Isn't that the definition of making fun of something?"

Frustrated, Henry sighed, a smile still remaining on his face. "You really are difficult you know that?" Then he chuckled to himself again. "Just have to imagine you with glasses on, writing your next verses with an oversized quill."

"Henry, stop!" Cyrvanyx said in a firm voice, despite the smile that was slowly but surely cracking his stern demeanor.

"And one of those big hats with a feather on top, haha!" He slapped his leg as he laughed. "Right between the horns hahaha!" Then at last even Cyr's dam broke and he began to chuckle alongside Henry's laughter, which soon turned into laughter of its own. The two laughed about the ridiculous image of a dragon poet in their minds for a while, washing away all the bad mood that Cyr had left to make Henry go away. Now that he too was beginning to brighten up perhaps Henry would have it a bit easier from here.

When their laughter eventually died down the pleasant atmosphere in the room remained. Henry looked at his friend, still grinning from ear to ear. "See? Isn't it nice to just let the gruff exterior fall and have fun?"

"Yes well..." He began but stopped like he was looking for an excuse for his behavior but could find none at the moment. Instead he just shook his head and chuckled once more. "You have a very vivid imagination, Henry."

"Maybe so, but you can't tell me you weren't imagining it." Henry prodded, with his words as well as his boot.

"Well..." He sighed in defeat, his ears pinning against his head. "I did," He have Henry a side glare, smirking smugly. "and despite the attire I assure you I looked as regal as ever."

"Haha, maybe in your mind." Henry joked before taking another huge swig from the bottle. "You begin to sound more like a dragon instead of a stuck up noble." Another swig from the bottle and then it proved to be quite empty. "Ah damn, already?"

Cyrvanyx' smirk became an expression of slight concern as Henry took out another bottle. "You shouldn't be drinking this much, especially after you already did so yesterday."

"It has only been one bottle." He argued as he held a second one in his hand. "Okay, I'll end after this one."

"Sure, sounds like a promise you can keep." Cyr said with a grin, chuckling, before getting more serious. "I mean it though. No more drinking or I'll go to sleep, like I really should be, and I'll send you away."

Henry glared at Cyr with narrowed eyes, judging him very hard in an only half genuine expression of annoyance. Slowly he put down the bottle back into the crate as he still stared daggers at his companion. "You win this time, dragon."

"Dragons always win." He claimed with a smug grin plastered across his muzzle.

"Right, right." Henry chuckled, eyeing the bottles with longing. "If only that were true. Then we wouldn't be in this... situation."

"Hmh..." Cyr murmured in agreement as his smug grin vanished again. "If only...hey, do you remember the war with Eylok?"

Henry straightened his back, laughing out loud. "Ha! How could I forget our first war?" He folded his arms. "How come you bring that up now though? Dwelling your thoughts on the time a single dragon on the field could bring victory?"

"In a way, yes." A wistful smile washed across his muzzle. "And in a way it still is that way, or would, if it weren't for the damn professionalisms of these people. It would be impressive if they didn't use all that skill against us."

Henry could only sigh and nod. He could feel his mood declining which partly was due to the fact that his access to the wine and ale had been denied, but also thanks to the mention of Ulric's mongrels. It was his fault for bringing up their dire situation. He better change the topic fast before all his progress of tonight was for naught.

Which was when he remembered once more what Gareth had told him about Cyr and Arylaryl. That alone was enough to reignite his mood for a smile to form on his lips. With an exaggerated motion he leaned back against the wall, his hands held behind his head. "Say Cyr, can I ask you something?"

The dragon gave a side glance and a subtle smirk. "You just did."

Henry sighed in an overplayed fashion. "You know I missed your relaxed side, but that was terrible. I'll just take it as a yes anyway." He shifted in place, watching Cyr to make sure he had his full attention. When the black dragon eventually lay his head down on his paws and looked straight at him he took that as cue. With his hands still behind his head he grinned at him and asked. "What do you think of the dragoness Arylaryl, my friend?"

At first, Cyrvanyx appeared to be perplexed at the question, as if unsure of what he had just been asked. That only lasted a second though. As soon as it settled in his eyes widened and Henry could almost watch the scales on his cheeks take shade of red despite the darkness. He opened his maw once, twice, like a fish on dry land gasping for air, until at last, after a few solid seconds of total silence he managed to form a coherent answer, or rather counter question. "Why... do you ask that now, of me? I mean..." Sort of coherent at least. He sighed. "Why do ask?"

"Because I want to know of course." He crossed his legs, tapping the heel of his boot against the ground while watching the Cyr with an ever wider smile. "Didn't think it would catch you that of guard though, hehe."

"Caught of guard? I don't know what you mean." And with that he turned his head away. The way his ears and frills were down told Henry something was definitely up, if that wasn't obvious enough already.

"I think you know exactly what I mean." Henry added with a smirk. He saw his ear twitch, making him chuckle. "Gareth told me you keep looking at her in a very particular way." Now that Cyr was no longer paying attention he took out the bottle he wanted to drink before and took a couple of swigs. "A particularly longing way to be exact."

That made Cyr's ears spring back up in an instant. He turned his head to face Henry, a shocked expression all over his muzzle. "What was that? You think I am having indecent thoughts about-"

"Indecent thoughts?" Henry said loudly in a perplexed tone as he glared at him with a furrowed brow. "This isn't a Redorien monastery for fucks sake. Who says it is indecent to have such thoughts?" Cyr just stared at him blankly while Henry continued glaring with an increasingly confused look in his eyes. Slowly the dragon broke eye contact, lowering his head to stare at the ground instead. "Oh Cyr..." He sighed. "Are you ashamed? Afraid?"

He didn't answer and instead just opened and closed his maw a few times as he tried and failed to find the correct words. "Come now." Henry said. "It's not like she is the first female you ever had to approach, right?" Cyr did not answer again, at least not with words. The way he lowered his head and looked around the room like he was nervous or embarrassed. "Wait... really?" He couldn't really believe it. "You... never?"

Cyrvanyx only subtly shook his head. "I know what you're gonna say." He started before Henry could even open his mouth again. "That being in the order would get me all the females I want to raise their tails for me, right?"

Exhaling a single chuckle,  Henry nodded. "Would have worded that different, but yeah, that is what I am thinking."

"Of course." Cyr sighed softly, raising his gaze to meet that of Henry. "Believe it or not, but old traditions of our clan speak against such hedonistic behavior. Very, very old traditions I should add. And as you said yourself my father is highly traditional. And I was raised to not be with a female for simple minded pleasure but rather to raise a family with her together. So I have held off on any behavior of that nature until I find the right one to sire hatchlings with."

Henry tapped his bottle, which at this point already had little more than half left in it, and spoke up with a focused tone. "Okay, so... you think Ary is the one? Or that this is only all that backed up lust you're feeling, hmm?" He smirked and took another gulp from his tasteful booze. Maybe he should stop indeed, her thought as he reflected upon how much he drunk in so little time.

"Well, that's the thing..." Cyr lowered his head onto his forelegs again, his expression sour and deep in thought. "I don't know. It has been... so long since I talked to her more than just the occasional greeting." He slowly dragged a single unsheathed claw across the stone floor, his tail nervously swishing behind him." I just know that we used to be very close friends before we joined the order and that she is... truly stunningly beautiful. Her green scales mixing with her blue ones in an uncommon but breath taking pattern. And her eyes... pure silver, like moonshine upon a lake at midnight..."

While Cyr seemed to have sunken deep into his thoughts Henry in his drunken state had to hold back laughing at the dragon's attempt at poetry. Not because it was bad but because the damn image of the dragon with the big hat and the librarian glasses returned to him. "So ehm..." Henry began when he thought he composed himself then cleared his throat one more time just to be sure. "She the other reason you joined the order?"

"Mhm?" The dragon blinked as their eyes met. "What was that?" He really had been lost deep in his thoughts.

"Is she the other reason you joined the order?" He repeated again more clearly. He heard himself how his speech was beginning to slur just a little bit. "You said that your father had something to do with you joining but you didn't say what really got you to get here. I get that it must have been a mix of things. Your father, your own pride, a sense of honor in serving under the king of Albia... but deep down..." He leaned forward and made sure that Cyr listened to his every next word. "deep down, you joined because Arylaryl did and you wanted to be with her."

Silence followed in a period of time where they both looked at each other. While Henry's gaze remained determined and certain Cyr's began to slip away into spilling the full truth. Then at last, he nodded and confirmed Henry's suspicion. "Well then, I think your objective is clear." Henry said with a genuine smile, setting down the bottle next to him.

"... no?" Cyr asked with a raised brow but when Henry only glared at him he answered his own question. "You want me to talk to her, don't you?"

"No." He said with the smile still plastered across his face and pointed at Cyr. "You want to talk to her but are just too afraid to do so. I know it, and you know it."

It was yet again dead quiet. He stared at Cyr with a big smile all over his face, watching emotions swirl in his eyes. Never before had he seen the dragon's soul so clear before him as in that moment. In his eyes he could see so many emotions all at once and so many thoughts crossing his mind, all backed up for so long with no one to talk about them. Or so he had told himself, it seems. They're eyes stayed locked for quite some time in the silence and the longer it went on the more Henry was sure of his friend's true nature.

Perhaps it was all due to his father, he thought while staring into his soul laid bare. The traditional way he raised him seemed to be his way of life through and through but it showed that it did him no good. "I..." Cyr managed to force out of his throat but no more words wanted to follow as at last their eye contact broke. Beside all the emotions visible in his eyes Henry could then see a single tear forming in his eye. He blinked it away quickly but Henry already saw it and thus his smile drained from his face, dropping the bottle of ale as the drinking was all but forgotten. In that moment all he cared about was to held his friend and make him feel better.

"Cyr I... hey." He softly tried to get his attention and then resorted to as gently as he could take his muzzle in both hands and forced Cyr to look at him. "Listen, please." He pleaded as he could practically see Cyr trying to wall the cracks in the dam that held his emotions back up. "I know we haven't really been talking much lately and that it may be partly my fault that you grew so reclusive. We never really... did anything together besides fighting and training and talking now and again."

At this point he could feel tears of his own coming slowly but surely while Cyr appeared to be doing his best to hold back. Henry had him now though. "I know that you strictly live by your father's teachings and his idea of what a dragon should be but look at all the others. Ary doesn't follow her father as I heard he was never that fond of humans. You don't have to be like him. Be yourself!" He again saw Cyr cracking down, tears rolling down his cheeks that were barely visible in the faint light of the moon. "But being yourself does not mean secluding yourself to reading or writing. I can see that while you seem content with your life, deep down, you really are lost and don't know where to go." He stopped for a moment to gather his own thoughts, letting go of Cyr's muzzle as well. The dragon did not pull back or move in any way however.

"Henry I... I don't know..." He croaked out, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. "I don't know what to say."

"Ah you needn't say anything, my friend." He said as he wiped away his own tears. "Maybe when this is all over we should do something together." He smiled at him, sitting down right beside him and leaning against him. "Something that you like to do."

Cyr locked eyes with him, swallowing yet again. "I'd like that." It was a mere whisper and he looked away soon again.

"But promise me that you'll talk to her soon." Henry went on, speaking softly only. "You don't need to tell her how you feel since... I don't think you know how you feel yourself really, do you?" Cyr softly shook his head in response. "Hmm, thought so..."

Yet again it went silent but unlike before this time it was pleasant and not uncomfortable. Henry felt relive after their conversation, since it was one they both dearly needed. He could barely imagine how Cry had been feeling then but he had a rough idea. Relishing the silence, the dragon lowered his head to let it rest beside Henry, coiling his tail around himself and his companion like protecting a hatchling. The mental image made him smile. He had more to say in his mind but in that moment he knew no more words were truly needed.

For the time being it was best to revel in the peace and quiet and enjoy the calm before the storm, however long it may last...