A Night of Dragon Wings

LYANA



Corpses littered the city. Thousands lay dead here, Lyana thought—tens of thousands. She flew over Confutatis, her heart a block of ice.

The ancient capital of Osanna was home to a million souls, a great labyrinth of white stone and cedar. Its walls had stood for thousands of years, and its towers kissed the sky. Today holes peppered those walls; in some parts they had fallen completely. Towers lay smashed, crushing houses and streets beneath them. Everywhere she looked—in gardens, squares, and streets—dead nephilim lay rotting, cut with griffin talons, pierced with arrows, or burnt with dragonfire. Many griffins lay dead too, their wings torn off and their bellies slashed. Vir Requis lay dead in human forms, indistinguishable in death from the corpses of Osannans; many of this city's people had fallen too, bitten apart by the feasting horde.

The stench of rot and blood filled the sky. Outside in the fields, living dragons and griffins stood side by side, digging mass graves and shoving piles of bodies into them. Flies buzzed and crows feasted.

Again you bring death, Solina, Lyana thought as she circled above the city like one of the crows. Again you bring blood. But now not only Requiem knows your evil, Solina. Now the world will fight you with one great cry. You have kindled a fire you cannot tame.

The sun set upon a city of blood and tears.

Bells of mourning rang in the night.

Lyana found a cobbled square beneath an archway, curled up in dragon form, and slept dreaming of white demon eyes.

Dawn rose, and three monarchs met in the Palace of Osanna. Upon his throne of giltwood sat King Shae, elderly ruler of Osanna, his beard flowing and white, his eyes sad and wise beneath black brows. Before him stood Vale, the Griffin King, his breast mottled white and his yellow eyes solemn. Lyana stood there too, Queen of Requiem, clad in her silvery armor, her sword upon her waist and her helm upon her head. Three rulers of three great kingdoms; they stood silently as funeral bells rang across the city and echoed in the palace hall. They stood here alone.

It was Lyana who spoke first.

"King Shae," she said. "We must attack Tiranor. Join your forces to mine and let us strike the desert." She pounded fist into palm, then turned to the Griffin King. "King Vale, most noble of beasts! The nephilim attacked your homeland too. Now fly with us. Let griffins fight with dragons; let talons and claws join in war. Together we will topple the halls of the desert queen."

She had expected a long day of arguments, of pounding fists, even of pleading.

Instead she got two nods, one from each king.

In the hall of Osanna, she closed her eyes, clutched trembling fingers behind her back, and whispered.

"Thank you."

She left the palace with more fear in her belly than during the battle.

Fire and blood will cover the world, she thought. She stood outside the palace doors, shifted, and took flight. No place is safe now; no land will be spared death.

Lyana had never been particularly pious. Her mother had been a priestess. Her friend Mori had spent hours in the temple, singing old songs and praying to the stars. Lyana had always preferred drilling with her sword, or roaring her fire, or polishing her armor; her weapons and strength had been her gods. Yet today she flew outside the city, walked through forests in human form, and prayed.

"Please, stars of Requiem," she whispered among the naked trees. The first snows of winter glided and clung to her cloak and hair. "Please, stars, do not let the light of the world go out. I am afraid. I am afraid for my husband. I am afraid for Mori and for Requiem." She closed her eyes and clenched her jaw, and pain dug through her. "I am afraid for myself. I miss my parents and I'm so scared."

Tears filled her eyes. She could not remember when she had last cried. She spent all day here in this forest, and when night fell she looked up at the stars, and sang to them softly, and clutched her sword's hilt so tightly that her fingers ached.

"I am Lyana," she whispered to those distant lights, the constellation Draco, stars of her fathers. "I am Queen of Requiem. I am your daughter. I will walk in your light, stars; this I swear. Light this long, dark night."

She slept among the trees in dragon form, curled up as snow coated her blue scales. Dawn rose pale around her, and icicles filled the forest, and Lyana took flight. Osanna rolled cold and glimmering around her, but when she looked south, Lyana could imagine the desert, and there the sand was hot and the sun burned her.