A Night of Dragon Wings - By Daniel Arenson Page 0,88

weary, gaunt woman. Elethor placed his maw into the hole and blew his flames, driving back the nephilim who clawed and bit there. His flames roared and crackled, flowing over his vision, but in his brief pauses for breath, Elethor saw the horde and fear clutched him.

Thousands. A hundred thousand. More. They covered the sky and land, a mass of scale and rot; he saw no end to them.

Elethor howled as he sprayed his fire. He could not hold them back much longer. They had moments before they grew too weary for fire, before these walls fell and the demons drowned them.

Finally his fire was drained. He pulled back, panting, and another dragon replaced him. Elethor shifted back into human form and stumbled into the center of the room. His people crowded around him, wailing and staring from wall to ceiling.

At every window, doorway, and hole, dragons stood blowing fire. No more than a dozen dragons could fill this crumbling hall; if more Vir Requis shifted, they would crush one another.

Bricks shifted.

Claws drove past stone.

A hole crashed open in the southern wall, showering dust. A nephil's arms reached inside and slashed, lacerating a Vir Requis child. The boy fell, his belly sliced open. Elethor screamed and swung his sword, cutting the nephil's arm. Black blood showered, and the arm withdrew. At once Yar, the young yellow dragon, leaped toward the new opening and roared fire. The nephilim outside shrieked.

"The ceiling!" somebody shouted.

Elethor looked up to see bricks shift. Fangs burst between the stones, and a hole gaped open, raining rock and dust and moss. A nephil's jaw thrust in, snapping, and Vir Requis screamed.

"Burn it!" Elethor shouted, and one Vir Requis—an old graybeard—shifted and roared fire at the ceiling.

Claws thrashed at the northern wall, tearing a window wider. A nephil reached into the hall, claws lashing, and a woman fell, her arm severed.

Elethor shifted back into dragon form, raced toward the new opening, and blew more fire. The nephil screeched. Elethor's flames were weak now, mere sparks. He was too weary. When another dragon replaced him, Elethor could barely stand. He shifted into human form and looked around him.

"Mama," whimpered a child and clutched her mother.

"Stars of Requiem," whispered an old woman, holding her husband.

And so it ends, Elethor thought. His armor felt so heavy; such a weight to bear. So does Requiem fade away, a small lingering light crushed under darkness.

He looked up. Claws and teeth lashed at the ceiling, tearing stone from stone. All the terrors and evils of the world were digging in.

"Requiem," he whispered. "May our wings forever find your sky."

These were the ancient words of his people. Now the survivors repeated them as the claws tore the walls. A hole cracked open in the ceiling, and bricks rained, and a sickly red light fell. The nephilim shrieked and cackled.

No, Elethor thought. He snarled and drew his sword. No, we will not fade like a guttering candle. We will die in a great pillar of flame.

Yar stumbled toward him, panting and coated in sweat; another replaced him at the window. He stood by Elethor and bowed his head.

"My king," the boy said.

No, not a boy, Elethor thought. He is a man today.

He clutched Yar's shoulder.

"Yar, you fight nobly for Requiem." He looked up at the ceiling where claws tore brick from brick. He lowered his voice. "Yar—fly with me."

Yar followed his gaze. The ceiling was trembling. Bricks and dust and moss fell, and the nephilim howled there, eyes blazing.

"To the sky," Yar whispered.

"To death," Elethor said. "To glory. To our starlit halls."

Yar bared his teeth, nodded, and clutched Elethor's shoulder. "We will fly, my king. We will fly there together."

The temple shook and the shrieks nearly deafened them. King Elethor gave the orders, and the dragons pulled back from the walls, and the survivors crowded in the center of the hall. All around them the walls shook, the claws reached in, and the shrieks echoed. Elethor held his sword high.

"Vir Requis!" he shouted, voice nearly drowning under the screams of the horde. "We fly now. We find our sky. Shift, dragons of Requiem, and sound your roar! Let the sky shake with the song of dragons!"

In the darkness of night and demon siege, after seven days of hiding in shadow, the dragons of Requiem emerged from their temple and crashed into the sky.

Elethor led the charge, a brass dragon with rippling scales and bright horns. His fire rose before him, a pillar of flame to lead