will fight them, Queen of Requiem. We will fell them from the sky, or die defending our stars."
She turned to Volucris next. The great griffin knelt in the snow before her, head lowered. Lacrimosa walked toward him, placed her hand against his beak, and rested her head against his.
"Volucris, my old friend," she whispered. "I'm proud to fight by you again. I ask of you this. Lead your griffins against the crawling beasts of Dies Irae. Fall upon his skeletons, his reptiles, his Poisoned, his snowbeasts, and all his horrors. Tear into them with your beaks and your talons, and kill them all."
He nodded, his eyes narrowing. They seemed to tell her: We will kill them all.
Lacrimosa nodded and turned toward Terra and Memoria. She wanted to be stern, but when she saw them, she couldn't help it. She felt her face soften, and she smiled.
"Terra," she said. "Memoria." She took their hands, and her eyes stung. "You have blessed us today. You have brought us new life, new love, new hope. Thank you."
They bowed their heads to her.
"My queen," Terra said, voice deep and gruff. He was only thirty, Lacrimosa knew—five years her junior—but she saw that white already invaded his temples, and lines already marred his brow.
"How should we serve you?" Memoria asked, fear and determination in her eyes. She's so small, Lacrimosa thought. So delicate. But she was a soldier of Requiem. She will be a soldier again.
Lacrimosa stared at the siblings. New Vir Requis. New survivors. Will they die today, leaving us so soon?
"You two wear Adoria's Hands," she said, nodding at the hands they carried on chains. "You two can shift around mimics, which we cannot." She squared her shoulders. "Tonight, fly as dragons, and swoop, and blow fire. Shower the battlefield with flame. Burn all mimics who march upon the ground of Requiem."
"We have burned them before," Memoria said.
"And we will burn them again," Terra finished.
Finally Lacrimosa turned to face Silva, priest of the Earth God. He stood by his horse, his hand resting on the pommel of his sword. The wind blew his long beard and green cloak, and his eyes stared at her steadily.
"Silva," she said. "For many years, Dies Irae hunted your priests, and burned your temples, and now he has murdered your people and turned them into his mimics. He murdered many of my people too. I'm proud to fight with you against him. Tonight let us fight side by side. We will lead the ground forces of our camp. The others will fight from above; we will face Dies Irae on the field."
His sword's grip and crossguards were made of twisting roots, like the old roots that had formed Requiem's throne. He drew the sword. Lacrimosa drew Stella Lumen, and they touched their blades.
"We will face him on the field," Silva agreed.
The sun disappeared behind the horizon. The Earthen lit torches, and the salvanae blew lightning above. War drums thudded in the east. Howls rose, a hundred thousand voices. The earth trembled. The squeals and grunts of beasts echoed among the ruins.
"It has come to us," Lacrimosa said. She took a deep breath, fighting to steady her fingers and the thrashing of her heart. "The great battle of our war is here. May we fight it well."
And if we must, may we die well.
She looked them over one last time. Her daughters. Kyrie and his siblings. The true dragons, the griffins, the children of Osanna. They stared back, eyes solemn, lightning crackling above them.
"It begins," she whispered.
She looked to the east and saw countless red eyes and shadows.
The battle of King's Forest began.
GLORIAE
She ran, boots kicking snow, as the howls and shadows descended upon King's Forest. Men were running and griffins taking flight around her.
"We need griffins!" she shouted. "Griffins, hear us."
But they were soaring from the ground, shrieking, flying into battle. Gloriae cursed and tried to shift, but could not. Mimics were near.
"Volucris, give us griffins!" Kyrie shouted, running beside her. Snow flurried around him.
Great wings thudded, billowing Gloriae's hair. Volucris landed before them, talons digging into the earth. Dies Irae's old mount. He towered over her and lay down his wing.
"Agnus Dei, ride him!" Gloriae shouted. "He's strong and swift."
Agnus Dei nodded. Clutching her Beam, she ran up Volucris's wing and sat bareback upon him.
"Fly, Volucris!" Agnus Dei cried. The golden skull glowed and hummed in her grasp. His wings blowing snow, his talons digging, Volucris took flight. The griffin king soared into the night, screeching, and