tonight."
Flaming arrows blazed around her. One slammed into Aquila, and the griffin screeched but kept flying. As she swung the Beams, slicing through mimics, Gloriae scanned the night.
"Where are you, Irae?" she hissed. Where was the man she had called Father? Where was the man who had kidnapped her, who had murdered her friend May, who had murdered her true father?
Salvanae roared around her, scales flashing, lightning shooting from their mouths. Mimic dragons screamed and darted and bit. Flaming arrows flew, and smoke filled the air. The battle for Requiem raged, but Gloriae cared for only one man.
"I will kill you, Irae," she swore. "You die tonight."
MEMORIA
Fire, lightning, and beams of light shot around her, a storm of war. Arrows whistled, mimics roared, wings flapped, dragons swooped. The night spun around her, darkness and light, fire and blood.
"Terra!" she cried. Three mimic dragons mobbed him, slashing and biting. She flew, eyes narrowed, and slashed at one. Its flank opened, spilling snakes and cockroaches. When it turned to bite her, she blew her fire.
Terra shook off the others, growled, and torched them. A gash ran down his side, bloody. Salvanae, griffins, nightshades, and more mimic dragons spun around them, battling in the air.
"They need us down there," Terra said. "With me, Memoria! Let's burn the battlefield."
They growled, pulled their wings close, and swooped. The ground rushed up to meet Memoria, bristly with mimics. Their lines stretched into the night, endless formations of rot. She righted herself several feet above them and blew fire, raining the flames upon their ranks. They howled and fell, blazing. Javelins and arrows flew. One arrow shot through her wing, and she screamed. For a moment, the pain blinded her. A javelin grazed her leg.
"Memoria, fly! Higher!"
Terra flicked his tail, guiding her. She growled and flapped her wings, soaring into the clouds. Flaming arrows flew around her. She crashed into a nightshade, and it began to suck at her soul. She screamed. She felt the creature ripping pieces of her, laughing, lapping them up. And then Kyrie swooped forward on his griffin, his Beam blazing, washing her with light. The nightshades screeched and scattered.
"Terra, let's dive!"
She swooped again, Terra at her side. They broke apart near the ground and raced over the lines of mimics. They rained more fire, and more mimics burned. They soared, arrows snapping against their scales, and Memoria surveyed the battle. She cursed. The mimics were tearing into the lines of Earthen, slashing their limbs off, digging into their bellies to feast. The Earthen lines were crumbling, and more mimics kept flowing forward. Lacrimosa fought there, swinging Stella Lumen, hacking at mimics. Blood splattered her.
"They need us!" Memoria shouted. "Down there, by the column."
Terra heard and nodded. Memoria steeled herself, drew flames into her mouth, and dived toward King's Column.
Ten mimic dragons soared toward her, claws outstretched.
Memoria blew her flames, hitting one dragon. It screamed and fell. The others crashed into her, lashing their claws and biting. She whipped her tail around her, and bit into their maggoty flesh, and cut and burned them. But they kept swarming. When she glanced below her, she saw more Earthen dying.
"The mimics are getting near the women and children!" she shouted.
Terra was battling a mob of mimic dragons. He roared and blew fire in a ring, scattering them, and dived. Memoria joined them. She drew fire and torched the line of mimics. Another arrow hit her, and she roared and flew higher, only to crash into a biting mimic dragon. She tried to dive for another round of fire, but could not. The mimic dragons filled the sky around her, protecting their comrades below
"Nehushtan!" she cried. "Cover us."
She stared above and saw the salvanae blazing all around, shooting lightning and biting into mimics and nightshades. They too were overrun.
A dozen mimic dragons flew at her from all sides. She blew fire in a ring, cursing. She could not shoot fire forever. Soon her reserves would dwindle, and she'd need rest to rebuild them. Would Lacrimosa and the Earthen survive until then?
A mimic dragon bit her calf, and she screamed and beat it with her wing. It opened its mouth to roar, and she slammed her tail into it, breaking it into a dozen bodies that rained onto the field. More flew at her. Memoria lashed her claws and tail, cursing.
LACRIMOSA
Her sword was a beautiful thing, she thought, a work of art, its blade filigreed, its grip glimmering with diamonds in the shape of her constellation. But