stopped, and the stars shone. Kyrie saw that they had reached the crater. He remembered. This was where he'd first seen Benedictus shift. Starlight fell upon the clearing. It seemed to Kyrie like a holy place, almost like the old courts of Requiem. The crickets fell silent and the wind died.
Kyrie stared, silent, and saw Benedictus walk to the center of the crater. The moonlight limned his form. As Kyrie watched, a woman stepped into the crater and stood before Benedictus.
Kyrie froze.
A woman?
Silent, hidden between the oak leaves, Kyrie stared. His breath caught. The woman was beautiful, the most enchanting creature he'd ever seen. His body tingled to view her. Mirum had been beautiful too, but in an earthy way, a beauty of sand and salt. This woman's beauty was ethereal, a beauty of starlight and magic. Her hair was long and fine, a blond so pale it was almost silvery. Her skin was milky, and she was tall and slender, clad in white silk. Kyrie gaped.
"Lacrimosa," Benedictus said to her. His voice was softer than Kyrie had ever heard it. "You shouldn't have come."
Lacrimosa smiled sadly. "You say that every new moon, yet every new moon I'm here." Her voice was soft and high. If moonlight could speak, Kyrie thought, it would sound like her.
"It's dangerous," Benedictus said and held her hands.
Lacrimosa nodded. "You say this every new moon too, yet I still live."
She took a step back, releasing Benedictus's hands, and shifted.
Kyrie gasped. She was Vir Requis! Like a butterfly emerging from the cocoon, she grew white wings, silvery scales, and a slender tail. Soon she stood as a dragon, tall and lithe, glistening in the stars.
A third living Vir Requis! Kyrie watched, eyes moist, as Benedictus too turned into a dragon, the great black dragon, chest scarred. The two dragons, the black and the silver, flew through the night as in a dance. They coiled under the stars, whispering to each other, a dance of sad beauty. Kyrie could no longer hear their words, but their dance spoke of old love and lost dreams.
Finally the dragons landed, one woven of darkness, the other of starlight. In the crater under the stars, they shifted back into human form: one man gruff and dark, one woman pale and glowing. They began walking toward the trees, toward Kyrie. He could only gape, awed.
"Close your mouth, kid," Benedictus said when he reached Kyrie. "A griffin might fly into it." He turned to the woman. "Lacrimosa, meet the kid I told you about."
Not sure how to react, Kyrie knelt before Lacrimosa. He tried to kiss her hand, but stumbled in the mud and fell. He pushed himself to his feet, stammering apologies, and tried to introduce himself.
"My lady! I'm Kyrie Eleison. It's good to meet you, my lady. How are you? I mean... I hope you are well. Are you?"
He realized how he sounded, winced, and cursed himself silently. But Lacrimosa seemed not to mind. She smiled, her teeth white, a smile that filled Kyrie with peace and angelic warmth.
"Hello, Kyrie," she said. "I'm Lacrimosa. I'm so happy to meet you."
Her eyes were large and lavender, and Kyrie was surprised to see tears fill them.
The three Vir Requis walked together, silent in the darkness. Kyrie had so many questions. He felt as if ants raced inside him. Who was Lacrimosa? Where had she been hiding? Were there even more Vir Requis survivors? Kyrie ached to ask, but something about the night's silence seemed holy. He dared not break it. Fireflies emerged to dance lazily like tiny dragons, as if they came to witness a sacred night, a night that would forever change Kyrie's life and his people's fate.
Kyrie noticed that more light glowed. Not the starlight, nor the light of fireflies, but a red, flickering light. He stopped in his tracks, and his nostrils flared.
"Smoke," he said.
Lacrimosa's eyes widened. "Fire," she whispered.
Kyrie stiffened. Yes, fire; he could smell it. Suddenly a crackle rose, and the trees ahead burst into flame. Sparks flew like the fireflies. Memories flooded Kyrie. He could almost see them in the darkness: the burning of Requiem, and the flames of war upon Lanburg Fields.
"Run!" Kyrie said. He turned and began fleeing the fire. Benedictus and Lacrimosa ran beside him. The flames roared behind, and smoke filled Kyrie's mouth. The heat burned his back.
"I should have killed Gloriae," he said as he ran, eyes stinging. "I should never have let her flee. It's my fault." Tears filled his eyes.
He