more. Dies Irae murdered all but five. You, me, your sister, your mother. And Kyrie."
Agnus Dei shivered. She had been to Requiem once before, stopping here in dragon form. It was the place she had fought Gloriae. But this was the first time she explored it on foot, seeing all this death, this loss.
"Did we fight well?" she asked. "How many of Osanna's men did we kill?"
"We fought well. We killed many. We toppled their walls, and crashed their forts, and tore into their armies with fangs and claws and fire. We killed countless of Osanna's sons. But they outnumbered us. Twenty to one, or more. They had griffins and ilbane. We could not win."
"But we will win," Agnus Dei said. "The war is not over yet. Not while I draw breath." She clutched Father's hand. "We're going to find scrolls here, and they'll tell us how to seal the nightshades. And Mother will align us with the griffins. And then Dies Irae will fall. Then we'll rebuild this place, and bury the dead, and Requiem will shine again." Tears ran down her cheeks.
Benedictus pointed to a pile of scattered bricks, a fallen gateway, and cracked tiles. "There, Agnus Dei. It's an entrance to the tunnels."
They approached, and pushed aside a burned bole, and saw stairs leading underground. Agnus Dei shivered. Icy wind blew from below, and she could see only ten or fifteen steps down, before the stairs disappeared into darkness.
"What do you think is down there now?" she asked and tightened her grip on her dagger.
"Hopefully some information."
Agnus Dei shivered to remember the stories of the poisoned Vir Requis, the fish scales that grew across them, and their eyes that bulged. "Do you think... do you think the Poisoned are still down there?"
"I don't think so, Agnus Dei."
She took a deep breath. I don't think so. Not no. Not of course not, don't be foolish, Agnus Dei. Only... I don't think so. It wasn't comforting.
"Let's go," she said. "We'll grab scrolls about nightshades and get out of here. I don't like this place."
She grabbed a broken lance from the ground, tore a strip off her cloak, and fashioned a torch. Benedictus did the same, then lit the torches with his tinderbox.
Daggers and torches held before them, they stepped down into darkness.
LACRIMOSA
She hid underwater in dragon form, lungs ready to burst. Nightshades swarmed above, dipping their heads into the sea, screeching, then emerging into the air again. Lacrimosa felt ready to faint. Stars glided before her eyes.
She flapped her tail, forcing herself through the water. When she thought no nightshades saw, she peeked her nostrils over the water, took a breath, and dived again. She kept swimming.
It's almost day, she thought. Please, stars, make it be almost day.
But it was not. The night was still long, a night of nightshades over water, of aching lungs, of stolen breaths. Several times the nightshades saw her. They swooped at her, screaming, sending her deep underwater. There she would swim, rise to the surface as far away as she could, and breathe again.
It was perhaps the longest night of Lacrimosa's life.
When finally dawn rose, the nightshades fled. Lacrimosa rose to the surface, lay floating on her dragon back, and wept. She wept so many tears, she could fill another sea.
She was thirsty, hungry, and bone tired. But she saw no islands, no place to rest. She took flight, wings aching. She flew over the sea, travelling east. How far was Leonis, the realm of griffins? It was a place of legend. Perhaps Leonis did not exist at all.
At noon, Lacrimosa could fly no longer. She floated on her back. She dived into the water several times, caught fish, and ate them. She was still thirsty, but there was nothing to drink but seawater. Then she flew again.
When evening began to fall, she saw an island in the distance. She hoped it was an island of Leonis, but it was only a desolate rock. Fatigued, she climbed onto the island and collapsed.
As she waited for nightfall, it began to rain. Lacrimosa drank from the rain puddles. She shivered in the cold and watched the thunder and lightning. No nightshades emerged this night. Perhaps Lacrimosa was too far now from Osanna. Was there any end to this sea, or was it only water and rocks? Thunder rolled and the rain intensified. Lacrimosa huddled against a boulder, wrapped her wings around her, and shivered until dawn.
She flew again over the sea. She flew into the