Slyn screamed, spraying blood from his mouth. The creature beat his crumbling wings, rising higher. His body was burnt, his face crumbled, his neck spurted blood, but still he rose, still he laughed, and his screech tore across Requiem.

"You will all bow before me! I am Slyn of Widejaw! I am King of Requiem!"

As all around dragons and sphinxes battled, the mutilated Slyn blasted out his demonic smoke.

Jeid blew his dragonfire. The stream crashed through the smoke and showered against Slyn. Roaring, Jeid beat his wings, rammed into the burning sphinx, and slammed the creature against King's Column. The forest seemed to shake. Light blazed out.

"Now die against the marble you desecrated." Jeid growled, leaned in, and bit through Slyn's neck. He tugged his head back, spat out flesh, and watched Slyn's severed head slam down against the tiles. The burning body followed with a thump.

Jeid landed back on the tiles, panting, and looked around him. Dorvin and Maev blasted out dragonfire, slew the last two sphinxes, then landed too. Hundreds of Widejaw corpses lay across the hall and forest, torn apart and burnt. Among them lay a dozen Vir Requis bodies.

The survivors stood, their scales covered in soot and blood. Among them stood one woman, bald and painted, small and frail, her magic lost.

Jeid released his own magic and ran toward her.

"Laira."

He pulled her into his arms, and she laid her head against his chest, and he held her for a long time as ash rained.

LAIRA

 
LAIRA

She walked alone through the snowy forest, and though she knew every birch here, and though the columns of her home rose behind her, Laira felt lost.

Ice coated the naked branches of the trees, and snow piled upon them; every tree was a three-layered painting of brown wood, silvery ice, and white snow, the tricolor strands spreading across the blue sky like cobwebs. The snow lay glittering in blankets, rising halfway to her knees, a field of stars marred only by the footprints of scurrying coyotes whom Laira only glimpsed from a distance, their eyes shining between trees. The sounds of Requiem still rose behind her: the flapping of dragon wings, the song of survivors, the music of a harp. Laira kept walking, moving away from the warmth and song of her hall.

For Requiem is no longer my home. She placed a hand against her chest. My heart was ripped from me. My magic is gone. She paused and closed her eyes, too overcome with pain to continue. I am no longer Vir Requis.