The Divine Tears: Crestfallen

IX

The sun was grazing the waters with its presence, painting with streaks of orange in the sky. As the Valkan stood the other ship came in sight, quiet and unbothered for the past few days.

The silent sailors observed as the two ships passed Cerelia's splendour isle of death. Daarion being atop the deck, still clad in his armour, oozing the smell of sweat and salt.

The ship anchored, extending planks to exchange crew members for repairs with the word spreading of a pirate attack.

The journey back was tedious, not much was spoken. The days were quiet, and the nights were silent. Tessriel had much to think over, she paced in her cabin, alone with her thoughts. Daarion was close by, ready for any word from his beloved, but none came.

The docks scurried with life from soldiers and sailors alike. A pirate attack was spread, even to the tavern of the docks.

Tessriel hardly showed her face, however, he noticed her, pale, dark fades below her eyes, and her lips, nearly as pale as her face. She quickly isolated herself in her carriage as they journeyed back on land. The dragons rode again, serving as escorts. As for Daarion, he did not bother her, for he knew she had much on her mind. The first day past swiftly, as quiet as ever. Daarion did not entertain the soldiers or paladins with his tales, nor did his companions, they mostly scouted, with Lyra obtaining a trophy of a magnificent elk, and served as a great abundance of meat.

The second day came with a red sunrise. The company travelled within the forest near the mountains of Enolia, a mere day's ride to the city itself. The forest had many alluring noises of birds and many a creature within. Daarion rode up front with comfortable clothing and his cloak floating behind.

His ears twitched; a distant sound echoed to his sensitive ears. He lifted his hand, halting the company. Paladins had their hands on their swords, expecting danger.

'There's no need for swords,' Daarion said, riding back to the princess' carriage. 'Princess,' he dismounted Autumn. 'There's something you might want to see.'

The other Valkans knew the sound, they dismounted and began setting up camp, for they knew a resting place was needed that day.

'What is it, Daarion?' she asked firmly.

'Just come, Tess,' he whispered beside the carriage. 'There's a sight waiting for you.'

He strapped his sword on his horse. He waited a short moment before the door slowly opened. Her face was bleak, her eyes were red with tiredness. He looked upon her with a sorrowful heart, he detested the sight of sadness, and more so from his princess. He reached out his hand—she touched his, a cold hand embraced by his warmth.

'Come,' he said as he led her within the forest. She did not ask where he was leading her—her thoughts were still being torn.

The trees narrowed in number. At the edge, there was a luscious landscape of flower thickets laid out. The snowy peaks of the Enolian mountains peeked over. At the centre of the beautiful land sat a dragon, elegant and powerful with its shimmering blue scales. Eyes of a cat and horns, akin to a bighorn sheep's spiralling horns. Wings of a bat, twice in size of the dragon itself. It sat peacefully, protecting the youngling who was prancing around its mother and playfully attacking the insects fluttering about.

Tessriel froze with awe. The hair on her neck stood quickly. She had all forgotten her duties, her sorrow, her name. She smiled.

The mother dragon caught sight of them, but she was calm, for she knew what Daarion was. The youngling caught them a moment after and ran back, it hid behind its mother's wing.

Daarion let go of the princess's hand. 'Stay here,' he whispered. He approached slowly. He was still a way off. He gazed at the mother's orange cat-like eyes—he bowed. The bow was of honour, respect, and permission. The dragon bowed its head in return. The dragoness lifted her wing and turned her head, nudging the youngling over with the mother's wing. Daarion waved his hand with slight movements at Tessriel, calling her over. He knelt with his beloved on the colourful petals. The young dragon hesitantly neared. They were only mere feet apart. Daarion grabbed Tess' hand, he pushed her hand upwards, indicating that they meant no harm. The youngling lowered its head and pushed it on the palm of her hand. They met—and it was peaceful. A cool breeze rushed over them, the long grass, and flowers swaying. The youngling purred as it felt her soft hand, it felt sorrow within her, it felt a stirring heart being torn from two sides. The youngling pushed closer. Tessriel's face lit up, she smiled broadly, feeling a cool and calming sensation rushing through her. All the worries of the world fell from her shoulders, as if she floated to a distant land, a sight of a far green land, no sensation of sorrow befalling upon any life. Tears of happiness and love fell on her.

The mother huffed with a growl, calling her offspring. The young dragon gently pulled its head away. Their eyes met one last moment before it pranced back to its mother. The two dragons left with no hurry in their steps.

As Daarion pulled himself up, Tessriel pulled him in. She embraced him; their kiss was soothing to them both, and even his worries about his beloved slipped away. Their hair flowed freely under the breeze, entangled in each other's arms, soaking in the moment of peace and calmness.

They sat in quiet as the wind blew over the thicket of flowers. It's as if the world did not need them, as they both desired.

'Come,' he pushed himself up. 'We've been gone for too long.'

Daarion pulled the princess to her feet. She turned the way they came.

'Tess,' he said.

She turned; sky-blue eyes overcame the bloodshot of her tiredness.

'Dragons are the symbol of peace,' he said. 'If you were searching for a sign, to preserve peace, to preserve what we have—this was it.'

'I know. You were right. You were right from the very beginning. I'll lie,' she held out her hand. 'Come, my love. Let's go home.'