Song of Dragons The Complete Trilogy - By Daniel Arenson Page 0,283

children, the life that still flickered in Requiem.

"I still find your sky. And I will fight for you. Give me strength, stars of Requiem. Give me strength, Ben. The great battle of our time comes to us. I pray that I can withstand its tide."

She circled above King's Column, the last pillar of their halls. She remembered a hundred griffins slamming against it, trying to topple it, but the Draco light still blessed it; so long as Vir Requis lived, it would stand. I will not let it fall.

The griffins now flew around her, her allies. The salvanae flew here too, coiling and uncoiling, their eyes spinning, their scales glimmering. Volucris flew at her right, shrieking, wings churning the clouds—King of Griffins. Nehushtan flew to her left, a hundred feet long, his moustache fluttering and his scales like molten gold—King of Salvandos.

"Thank you, my friends," she said to them. "Thank you for flying with me, with Requiem."

Nehushtan bowed his head to her. "The evil of the tyrant spreads across earth and heaven. The stench of it has carried to our land. It poisons the glow of stars. We have come to fight. For Requiem. For Salvandos our home. For Leonis, realm griffins. We fight for all lands of civilization."

Lacrimosa remembered travelling across the ruins of Osanna, the empire of men. She had crossed it by foot, and taken ship from Altus Mare on the sea. She had seen ruin, death, desolation. Cities lay crumbled, farms burned, forests wilted, bodies rotting. And who will fight for Osanna? she wondered. Who will fight for the realm Dies Irae rules, enslaves, and burns?

The griffins shrieked, and the salvanae bugled.

Drums and trumpets sounded in the north, answering her.

Lacrimosa stared and gasped. She blew fire, and her eyes stung.

They marched from the burned forest, thousands of them, bearing banners of green and brown. They flowed forward like a snake emerging from a basket. A hundred horsemen rode at their lead, clad in armor, bearing lances and standards. Behind them walked thousands of women, children, and old men, all wrapped in cloaks, huddling together for warmth. Thousands of men surrounded their grandparents, mothers, wives, and children. Some wore armor and bore swords. Others wore peasant tunics and carried pitchforks and torches.

"The Earthen," Lacrimosa whispered. Children of Osanna. Followers of the Earth God. Friends.

She flew down and landed on a snowy, fallen column. She stood, wings folded against her back, and watched the Earthen approach.

An old man led them, she saw. He rode a brown horse and wore a green cloak over chain mail. His hair and beard were long, and more white than brown, but his back was still straight, his eyes still bright, his hand still steady on the hilt of his sword. He rode up to her, two armored riders flanking him.

Lacrimosa bowed her head to him. "Silva the Elder," she said. "Welcome to Requiem. May our stars, and your Earth God, bless you."

The priest nodded to her. His face was deeply lined, his voice hoarse. "Queen Lacrimosa of Requiem. A great host approaches. Our scouts have seen them. They cover a league, and they march fast. It's an army of beasts and demons, abominations to the Earth God and to your stars. They'll be here soon."

"Our own scouts have seen them," she replied, remembering what Terra and Memoria had reported. She swallowed. "An army of mimics, snowbeasts, nightshades, and all other creatures of darkness. We stand ready to fight them."

Silva gestured to the riders beside him. "These are my sons. At my right is Silva the Younger. And here is Silas, my second son, a great priest like his brother."

The two men drew their swords.

"We stand ready to fight with Requiem," said Silva the Young.

"We fight for the Earth God," said Silas, snow in his hair.

Lacrimosa looked over their heads at the people they led. Horsemen. Footmen. Peasants. Women and children. Dies Irae has hunted them for years. Here is their final stand. Will this be their Lanburg Fields? Will this be death to us all? A few of the children began to cry, and Lacrimosa looked back to Silva.

"Lead the mothers and children into the trees west of King's Column. They are burned and many have fallen, but they will give some shelter. Place armed men around them. Take the fallen logs, and build what palisades you can. Then take what men you can spare, and what women can wield a weapon, and rejoin me here at the pillar. We will hold