A Night of Dragon Wings - By Daniel Arenson Page 0,123

raised their heads and stared into the sky of Requiem. It was a clear spring sky, cold and bright and empty of clouds, yet Lyana thought that even in the light of day, she could see the Draco constellation, the stars of her fathers.

You are there now, Father and Mother, she thought, and a soft smile touched her lips. You are there, Orin and Elethor. You watch over me. You are with me now. I can feel your light upon me, and I am afraid, but I know that I am never alone.

She returned her eyes to the crowd.

"We are the survivors of Requiem," she said. "And we are her hope. We are Vir Requis, and we have known pain, and we have known tears, and we have known too much blood, too much death. But we are strong, and we are eternal; forever our starlight will glow. It has glowed here for three thousand years since King Aeternum raised this column and carved our stars into its stone. Queen Gloriae found this column standing in ruin after the great wars three hundred years ago; she rebuilt these halls and let starlight fall upon them. King Elethor led us to victory and to hope, and now this torch of starlight passes to me. And I vow to you, children of Requiem, I will rebuild these halls, and we will watch this forest bloom again." She raised her voice and cried to the stars, knowing that Elethor could hear her. "Requiem! May our wings forever find your sky."

All across the ruins, the survivors of Requiem repeated her prayer.

Standing upon a smashed mosaic, Mori smiled at Lyana, her eyes soft and warm. She knelt upon the broken stones before her queen.

"Queen Lyana," she said softly. She held her sword before her upon open palms. "I serve you, my queen."

Bayrin knelt too, blade held before him. Behind them, more people knelt, and soon a wave flowed across the survivors. They all knelt before Lyana upon the ruins, eyes gleaming, lips whispering.

Lyana stood before them, and her eyes stung, and she tasted a tear on her lips.

"I will lead them well, Elethor," she whispered and looked to the sky. "I will lead Requiem down a path of starlight, and I will not stray from it to the left or right, and I will honor your memory. I swear this to you, my husband. I swear this to you, stars of my fathers."

Those stars now did shine in the sky; Lyana could see them, and she laughed through her tears.

The birch saplings rustled.

Spring turned to autumn. The leaves turned red and scuttled across the ruins of Requiem.

All around the city, masons and carpenters toiled, and smithies rang, and people bustled. The first homes stood upon hills, and new columns rose in the ruins of the palace. The farms gave their crops, and baking breads, foamy ale, and hot apple pies filled Nova Vita with their scents, and for the first time in years, Lyana heard laughter ring through the city. Life and light shone.

On a cool autumn morning, Lyana lay upon her fur rug in the small, hillside temple they had built. She dug her hands into the fur and closed her eyes, but she did not scream. Mori clutched her one hand, and Bayrin held the other, and with a gasp and joyous pain, they had another in their family.

Lyana held her son to her breast, smoothed his hair, and smiled.

"Our son, Elethor," she whispered and looked to the ceiling. "He looks like you."

Mori laughed and gasped at the babe.

"Look at his hair!" the princess said. "It's brown like mine. And his eyes, Lyana—they're green like yours." She gingerly touched the babe's head. "What will you name him?"

Bayrin cleared his throat. "She's going to name him Bayrin, of course. After me. What do you think?"

The babe mewled and fell asleep against her, and Lyana stroked his hair, feeling warm and safe.

"I will name him Elarath," she said softly. "And I will raise him to know of his father, and his grandfather, and the great kings who came before him. He will be a great king too someday."

Bayrin patted the child and smiled down upon him.

"Your father was a good king, little one," he said. "You better follow in his footsteps, or Uncle Bayrin will make you regret this day."

Mori punched him, and Bayrin gasped and feigned indignation, and Lyana smiled and held her son close.

"Sweet El," she whispered to the child. "The birches whisper,