said, "we must flee. Requiem is no longer safe. I've fought griffins and nightshades a hundred times, and mimics only once, but it's that last battle that haunts me most. Let's run. Now."
Lacrimosa took a deep breath and tightened her lips. She stared into the fireplace. The twins sat by the hearth, holding each other, looking at their mother. For a long time, Lacrimosa said nothing. They all waited.
Finally Lacrimosa spoke. "What would he have done?" she said, gazing at the crackling flames. "That's what I always ask myself. I miss him so much. He'd know what to do." She took a shuddering breath. "But we must continue without him." She turned to stare at Kyrie, her eyes large and haunted. "He died for Requiem. He would want to stay and fight."
At that moment, Kyrie felt such love and pain for Lacrimosa, that he wanted to embrace her. But no; she was Queen of Requiem, and she needed no embraces from him, but strength and courage.
"I'd fight for you anywhere," he said. "But... we've always fought as dragons. We can't shift around mimics. Are you sure, Lacrimosa? There are other places to hide, places safer than Requiem's ruins."
Agnus Dei chewed her lip. She opened her mouth, shut it, clenched her fists, and finally spoke. "I want to fight! I do. I've never run from a fight. Ever! But... Mother, I'm scared." Her eyes dampened. "I was never afraid of a fight before, not against all the griffins and nightshades in the world. But I'm scared now. I... if something happened to you too, Mother, I...."
Suddenly Agnus Dei was crying. Gloriae embraced her and patted her hair, and Kyrie held her hands.
Lacrimosa squared her shoulders. The firelight danced against her face. "I might die in this fight, Agnus Dei. I might join Father in our starlit halls. I can't promise you that we'll all live. But no place is safe anymore. We've been running and hiding for over a decade, and Dies Irae sends his creatures to all corners of the world. Where more can we run? We promised Father that we'll rebuild Requiem. We promised it to him when we buried him. We cannot run forever." She gestured to a doorway, beyond which lay their armory. "We knew Irae would attack. We've stored bows and arrows, blades, and armor. We don't have much, but we've prepared."
Kyrie shook his head. "Lacrimosa, I want to fight too, but... we have only four bows, only a hundred arrows. We have only a few pieces of armor, and only Gloriae has a breastplate. We're not armed well enough. To beat two or three mimics, yes. But a hundred? We never expected that many."
Lacrimosa took a deep breath. Her eyes stared at nothing, reflective, as though staring at a memory of her husband. "We'll build more weapons." She gestured at piles of firewood that filled the chamber. "We'll build javelins and arrows and torches. We can't shift around mimics, but we can still fight them. Dies Irae is weakened now. It's time to make a stand. We will tell him: You cannot keep hunting us. Requiem is reborn, and we will defend her."
Gloriae rose to her feet and drew her sword. "Yes," she said. Ice filled her green eyes, and her cheeks flushed. "Yes. We fight. We kill. We bring fire to our enemies. I'm ready."
Agnus Dei stood up too, looked at Kyrie with uncertain eyes, then at her mother. She bit her lip, gazed to the fire, and whispered something so quietly, Kyrie could not hear. He thought he heard her say "Father". Then she clenched her fists and nodded.
"Yes," she said. Her dark eyes burned. "Yes, I'll fight too. I'm a fighter. It will be a day of flame."
Kyrie looked at the others, one by one. He loved them all, Kyrie thought; even Gloriae. He loved them so much that his chest ached. The last Vir Requis. I will defend them. I will fight for them, and if I must, I will die for them.
"A day of flame," he repeated. "Let us make torches, and let us make arrows of fire."
AGNUS DEI
As she worked, she couldn't stop her fingers from shaking. Piles of firewood, kindling, and jars of oil filled the underground cellars. They had been collecting it for weeks from beyond Requiem's borders, enough to last all winter, to warm their bones and cook their food. As Agnus Dei carried log after log outside, she couldn't help but shiver. She had never