"Will he live?" Jeid asked, kneeling above the stranger.

Eranor wiped his hands on a rug. "I pray to our stars that he does."

Jeid's fingers trembled. He stared down at the pale young man, and strangely, despite the blood and horror, joy kindled in him. His eyes stung.

We are not alone.

He was about to speak again when he felt warm wetness against his knee. He looked down to see blood seeping from under the young man's back. When he raised the man to a sitting position, he saw it there—a broken arrow beneath his shoulder blade, sunken deep into his torso.

Dawn spilled into the cave when the young man died.

Jeid held him in his arms, remembering the night Requiem had died in his embrace, and here he was a father again; all these cursed, lost souls were his children now.

"Rise, friend," he whispered and kissed the man's forehead. "Rise to the Draco stars. Their light will guide you home."

That evening, Jeid buried the young man in the valley beside his daughter, and he placed a boulder above his grave. Eranor stood beside him, his beard flowing in the wind, and prayed the old prayers of druids.

Two fallen Vir Requis, Jeid thought, staring at the twin graves. Two more burdens to bear. He looked up at the sunset. The first stars emerged, and the dragon constellation glowed above. Two more souls to guide me.

"Who am I, Father?" he asked softly.

Eranor placed a hand on his shoulder. "You are a son. You are a father. And you are not alone." The old man stared south across the plains of swaying grass. "Others are blessed. Others need you. You will build them the tribe that you dream of. They will find you, or we will find them, and we—the Vir Requis—will gather here. We will have a home."

That night Jeid did not fly again. He sat in the cave by his father, and he stared at the embers in their brazier, and he thought of Tanin and Maev who were flying south, and he thought of those who had died.

I will fly on, he thought. But I will no longer fly lost in darkness. Our lights shine across the world. I will be a beacon to them until we shine together.

LAIRA

 
LAIRA

"So this is how I end my first hunt," Laira muttered to herself as she crawled through the forest. "Bruised, bound, and covered in mammoth shite."

She sighed, then winced with pain; even sighing hurt now. She supposed it could have been worse. If those rocs caught her, it would be worse.