"I don't know how I can go on without her," Dorvin said, voice choked. The young man's cheeks were pale, his eyes haunted, his cheeks covered in stubble. "She was the light of Requiem, a beacon sent from the stars to guide us home. To guide me." He lowered his head. "Goodbye, Alina, my sister. I love you."

Her golden hair still stained with the blood of their battle, Maev approached Dorvin. The tall, gruff woman, perhaps the greatest warrior in Requiem, embraced the young man, and her eyes dampened. She kissed Dorvin's cheek and whispered comforts into his ear, and the two stood upon the grassy hill, the wind in their hair, holding each other close.

As Laira stood here, she felt more than loss for their dead. Many lights had gone out; two were missing.

"Where are you, Issari, my sister?" Laira whispered. She had already lost a brother; to lose her sister too would a pain she could not bear. "Where are you, Tanin, Prince of Requiem?"

The two had gone south to claim a distant throne. They had never returned. Laira looked south as if they would appear upon the horizon as she waited, a white dragon and a red one, a sister and a prince, the two she needed with her here. It was a dream, perhaps a fool's dream, and deep inside her Laira feared that they had fallen too, that their bodies would remain across the sea, leaving her always doubting, always empty, a shell of who she could have been.

Return to me. Please.

As she gazed at the horizon, she thought she saw a dragon there, a vision, a wish woven into a daydream of her sister coming home. Laira's breath caught in her throat. She narrowed her eyes.

She turned to Jeid who stood beside her. "Jeid, do you see it?" Her eyes dampened. "A dragon from the south."

He nodded. Laira shifted and took flight. She flew toward the distant figure, hope kindling inside her. Issari! Issari returned! She—

No.

Laira felt her heart freeze and shatter within her. The dragon flying toward her wasn't white like Issari. His scales were a pale blue, the color of robin eggs, and one of his legs was too small, barely larger than a human leg. The young dragon—he was even smaller than Laira—panted in the air, smoke puffing out from his nostrils in short spurts. He seemed close to exhaustion, and his scaly skin hung loosely over his bones.

"Requiem!" he cried out. "I seek Requiem. I—"

His eyes rolled back and he dipped in the sky. His magic left him, and he became a human boy clad in rags. He tumbled toward the ground. Laira raced forward and caught him in her claws.