Onyx Dreams Ch. 9: New Friends
Cyrus shivered as the chilling Romanian air flowed through the hole in Brenna's claws. For the eighth time in the last half hour he asked with chattering teeth, "Are we there yet Brenna? I think my testicles have become icesticles."
~You worry about your body too much. And yes, we are here~ she informed him as she circled once around a large house and landed in the field that was a mile away from the house. She gently opened her claws so he could get down and blew warm air on him to warm him up.
Cyrus gave her a sarcastic look. "Yeah, well, unlike dragons I don't have my own personal flame thrower!" He climbed down out of Brenna's claws and landed heavily on the hard soil, stamping his feet as Brenna blew hot air over him. Softly he almost purred. "Ahh, that's a good change for once. Some warmth rather than being frozen."
~Cyrus, please be nice to our teacher. If you are your usual self he will not let us stay~ Brenna pleaded.
Cyrus raised an eyebrow, pretending as if he didn't know what Brenda was talking about. "What? I've been nothing but nice to you." He grinned as well, adding to the image of niceness.
~You are always nice to me but to others you aren't so nice. Please, Cyrus, be kind~ she said again and then grew silent as an elderly gentleman came over the hill and looked down at them.
There was a whoosh of wings and then a giant sapphire colored dragon, which was twice as big as Brenna flew overhead, circled once and then landed on the hill next to the man.
Cyrus involuntarily stepped back a little as he saw the massive sapphire dragon swoop overhead. Before he realized what he was doing, he was half hidden behind Brenna. "He's much bigger close up."
~The males usually are~ Brenna said primly as she dropped her head into a bow as the older man and his dragon approached them.
~Bow, Cyrus~ she hissed.
Cyrus eyed them both and bowed, but never taking his eyes off the two males before them, wondering what an old man would be doing with a male dragon, usually their riders were female. ~So where's our teacher?~
~ Here. I am your teacher and so is Henry~ the sapphire dragon replied, his voice rumbling like an earthquake through Cyrus' mind. ~My rider was married to Henry but she died a year ago as did Henry's dragon partner. They tried to save a life and lost theirs.~
Cyrus froze and gave a nervous smile, wondering what could possibly have killed a dragon. Other than another dragon of course. "It's uhh...nice to meet you both. I've heard...well I would say lots, but in reality I only found out I was coming here when Brenna dragged me off yesterday."
It suddenly dawned on Cyrus that he was in fact now thousands of miles away from Kennice. It was going to take him all of ten minutes to get back now!
"Boy, you must put behind love, lust, revenge, anger, and other such emotions for they will only corrupt and damage your relationship with Brenna," Henry said firmly, his eyes and attention fully on Cyrus.
Cyrus paused a moment, processing how Henry knew what he was thinking. It slowly dawned on him. It was the same way Elizabeth knew. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't trespass in my mind without my knowledge. I have the utmost respect for you sir but I do not appreciate my private thoughts being violated."
"I have no need to violate your thoughts. Your thoughts are loud and hearable by any with passive talents."
Cyrus' face contorted a little with annoyance, which he quickly stomped down. "Alright, well looks like I'll never be able to forget that place now." Cyrus took a deep breath and slammed down several thick barriers around his mind, the way that Elizabeth had taught him. "Better?"
"Yes. You should not have to be reminded. You are old enough to know better. You are what, twenty-three? And you have been in Elizabeth and Anthony's care. I'm sure that was one of the first things they taught, mental barriers."
"Yeah well until now all the bad memories and that time in general was buried in a box marked 'Do not disturb until the end of time itself'. Unfortunately I've now had to dig up that box." Cyrus nodded with an increasingly annoyed look on his face. It was only fractionally pointed at Henry though, most of it directly coming from the memories that had been stowed under lock and key.
"You cannot blame it all on them, young rider. Once you accept your part of the blame as well as the girl's, you will be able to move forward. As long as you hold on to your anger, you will never heal," Henry advised. "Come, I'm sure you are tired. For now come partake of my small meal and conversation. Then you shall rest. Training will start tomorrow. Bogart will show Brenna where to rest."
Cyrus frowned but kept his thoughts of this 'teacher' to himself, out of respect for Brenna. However the situation was beginning to seem like his time at the monastery. Instead he simply said. "My anger is fine thank you." With that said he quietly followed Henry.
~You will learn, you will learn~ Bogart whispered in Cyrus' mind as Bogart and Brenna took to the air and flew south toward the sea caves.
Cyrus blinked and sighed. Would people never learn the meaning of "don't trespass in my mind?" Maybe a giant glowing neon sign might help.
The outside of the house was ordinary and plain looking. There were a few farm animals running about but there was an air about the place that made one tread softly and warily.
Following Henry towards the house Cyrus noted the feeling of unease and silently wondered what the danger was that gave such a feeling.
Inside was a different story. The colors were pastel and inviting. The furniture was old but well used and the smell of fresh baking bread filled the air.
As Cyrus stepped into the old looking building he took a deep breath and for the first time since he'd arrived, he felt a smile come onto his face. "Nice place you have here.
"Thank you. Libby always said a welcoming home was a safe one," Henry said with a fond smile as he remembered his deceased wife.
"Yeah well I used to think that too, up to about...ohhh, four, maybe five years ago? Then my views were drastically changed." Cyrus continued to skim his eyes around the home, taking in every detail.
"And what changed your mind about the safety of home?" Henry probed gently as he led the way into the kitchen and took out two loaves of bread.
Cyrus hesitated about telling his story but shrugged after some thought. "You already know after your first little 'exploration' into my head. Then again, the monastery never really was a home to me, more like a truck stop on the road of my life."
"Is that how you look at your events? As if everything was just a stop?" Henry asked as he began slicing the bread. "Grab the salad out of the fridge."
Cyrus shrugged as he walked towards the fridge and continued talking. "When you should already be dead then yeah, thinking of everything as just a stop comes quite naturally. If 'Father' hadn't found me then most certainly wouldn't be here today."
"How is it that you should be dead?"
Cyrus smirked and let down his barriers dragging up the memory his 'father' had sent to him.
* * *
The sky was dark, thunder rumbled across the black clouds as a heavy rain began to fall. The large droplets splattered on the icy cold cobbles of a sleazy back alley, small rivers running along the spaces between each stone.
In the quiet a woman's sobbing could be heard, each sob punctuated with a grunt of effort. The scene moved further down the street, the woman coming into view.
It was clear from the first moment she was in trouble. She was in labor and bleeding heavily already, the thick life containing substance turning the rainwater a transparent scarlet.
After a few moments of intense pushing, a high-pitched scream pierced the dark night. The light from the street lamps glinted off the newborn child, it's cries reverberating off the walls of the alley. But they fell on deaf ears.
Cyrus had been brought into the world, alone. His mother now lay limp in the gutter, her body having almost given up under the intense strain, could not handle the severe blood loss.
Cyrus lay screaming as loud as his newly formed mind could, trying to feel for the instinctive motherly form that should have been there holding him. But there was nothing.
