He knelt and placed a single birch leaf upon the grave, securing it with a stone. His father had always loved birches, and it was the only gift Jeid had to give. The others followed, one by one, placing down their own leaves and stones. Snow dusted the gifts.

Jeid straightened and looked at his new people. Young. Afraid. Looking to him for guidance. He spoke softly as the snow fell.

"Thus, with leaf and stone, we say goodbye." The others stared at him, eyes large, lips tight. "Thus, with blood and fire, we defended our home. We fled a village, a tribe, a southern kingdom. All over the world they hunt us—the people they call diseased, the cursed ones they call weredragons. But we are blessed. We are Vir Requis, and our magic comes from the stars." He looked up at that sky as if, past the pale sunlight and clouds, he could see those stars. "For a long time, I called Requiem a tribe. Tribes move across the world, seeking safety, struggling to survive." Jeid shook his head. "Requiem will be no tribe. We will be a kingdom." He looked back at them, meeting their eyes one by one. "We will tell the world: You can no longer hunt us. We will no longer hide. No more will the children of Requiem hide underground, ashamed, afraid."

They nodded. Maev growled and raised her fist. Tanin punched his palm and sneered. Laira's eyes lit up, and she raised her chin, and even her brother straightened and gazed ahead with pride.

"We will stand proud!" Jeid said, his voice rising louder. "We are only five, but more will join us. Many more Vir Requis hide across the world, afraid, believing they are cursed. We will trumpet our cause and call our people home. We will raise a palace of stone, and we will tell all tribes and nations: If you hunt us, you will die. If you attack us, you will burn. Dragons will rise! The kingdom of Requiem will last ten thousand years."

"Yes!" Maev said. The young woman shifted into a dragon, beat her wings, and soared. She raised a great pillar of fire, and her roar pealed across the land. "Requiem! I fight for you."

One by one, the others shifted too. They took flight, roaring for Requiem.

Only Jeid remained on the ground, still in human form. He looked down at the graves, and his eyes stung.

For you, Father. For you, my daughter. For you, unknown warrior. For all those who've died.

He looked up at the sky, shifted too, and took flight. He joined the others. They hovered above the hills and valleys, and Jeid added his flames to theirs. Five jets rose, spinning and crackling with heat and light, wreathing together into a great column of fire, a beacon for hope, for life, and for a new home.

* * * * *