Dragon Aster Trilogy

8: FUNERAL



The drums replaced the sound of Sybl's own heartbeat as she left the Atrum. Countless people had gathered in the courtyard for Dyaus’ funeral and the celebration that the Awls had brought into the city with their return. The pluma Awls danced from one drum to the next in their winged, cougar-like bodies. They reminded her of Indians with how much paint and feathers decorated and moved with them. Sybl would have guessed that they were celebrating the death of a dragon, but she knew now that it was a celebration of peace. A dance to weave away all the fear and hate between the Awls and dragons. A dance that wouldn’t be happening had their common enemy not brought them all together. She felt as if she had fallen right back to square one with the Sanctus’ occupation of the Atrum; parties and then saving the world, all in its backwards order.

Sybl looked to the side where they had lit a huge bonfire for Dyaus’ burial under the wooden platform that he lay on. It looked as if everyone had come out to see the impossible sight of a dragoon being cremated on this side of the world. When only ashes remained of the Torian General, the drums stopped. Sybl quickly put her thoughts elsewhere as she could feel dozens upon dozens of eyes looking at her in the new stillness. She sent her eyes to where Kas stood and began his speech. He was the center of attention and she was relieved when he took command over it again.

Kenshe took to the front of the line as he knelt on one knee before Kas and was sworn in as a soldier of the new Order, and Gwa followed suit behind him. Then the other Custos were initiated in a similar fashion.

She glanced up at the Aur as the purple and black light rose through the Atrum’s peak. It covered the Suzerain Continent in its thick darkness. But it wasn’t enough to black out the firelight of the torches and bonfires lit for the occasion. It didn’t matter where she went, as a trail of apologies and regrets followed her everywhere.

She tried to look focused from where she stood, even as a million thoughts rushed through her head and lost her emotions all over the place. Then her thoughts scattered everywhere and nowhere as Cirrus took up her side.

“I never thought I would miss the old dragoon. I guess I was wrong. He deserved a better death.”

Sybl stayed quiet, as she could feel that Cirrus still didn’t know the truth about his mother or father. She couldn’t tell him. Not now or ever.

“So you’re coming back to Toria with me, right?”

Sybl nearly jumped in fright at the question. “Of course. I mean, I’m not letting you go alone. We have to get my festra first, though.”

“I’m sure a few dragons and phelan can hunt down Sial fast enough. Kas is going to head over to the Efereal Mountains to escort the Sanctus’ refugees here. If Damek wants to try something, he’ll have all of us to deal with again. Assuming we don’t all turn on each other by then.”

She looked at Cirrus as it felt like there was another meaning behind his words. “You've been acting strange since you spoke with Damek. What did he say to you?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Then why are you acting like you’re scared of me all of a sudden?”

“Supposedly every human who gets near the Atrum’s Aur tends to get very grouchy,” Cirrus said.

Sybl was about to reply, before stopping on sensing this was headed towards an argument. “I see your point.”

“He was just upset about the Curse being switched between you and Kas.”

She could feel him lying, but knew that here and now wasn’t the place to figure out the truth. What was it actually doing to him? Kas remembered everything of their past, where she only remembered a fraction of it all. She feared what she couldn’t remember and could not see coming for her.