“Ceres?”

  The hybrid girl, awake at last, opened her eyes to see Grovalt, the pale warrior before her. As always, he was worried about her. Dark circles were under his eyes. He looked so very tired, as if his body itself was begging and pleading for a night’s rest.

  The others were there as well. They were riding upon Nakir’s back, heading for the end of all things. A great storm of apocalyptic proportions had appeared in the far corner of the world. Ceres knew where it was. Her very own village, or what was left of it.

  “Are you okay? How are you feeling?”

  She looked down at herself, expecting to see one dragon arm and one missing arm. She discovered two dragon arms, one of them newly grown to replace the one cut off by the Black Sorceress. Now, she was farther away from humanity than she had ever been before. She was more dragon than not. For once, though, the thought didn’t scare her. In fact, within her soul it dropped a droplet of tranquility. She looked at Grovalt and remembered just how distraught he had been when they’d fought Zandos. How injured he was in the battle with Nia. Guilt welled up inside her. “Grovalt… I’m sorry. You’ve done so much for me, and I failed you all. I… I can’t have you fighting for me forever. You’ll get hurt again. My dream isn’t worth it. You… you need to live for yourself for once. There’s no honor in dying for a dumb girl like me. I need to save myself. In the end, it always comes down to me.”

  “Ceres…” Grovalt stared at the dragon girl, disheartened. “I do what I do because you gave me the strength to carry on. Don’t you remember what I said the day after I met you?”

  “Yes, but… only death awaits you there. I can’t have you die for me. It would tear my heart apart… though it already is.” She held the Aspect close to her chest, as if it were Asteria’s small head. “I can’t do it again… I can’t have any more of you die for me. I can’t. I have to do it myself.”

  Grovalt peered down sadly. He held his bandaged shoulder and winced.

  That’s just how it is. Sure, I’ve been blessed with many great people who would help me at any waking moment. As long as I asked outwardly, of course. They helped me on the outside. But everything else… everything on the inside. That was me. Nobody but me saved myself from that sullen stupor. I wouldn’t have even been able to take their helping hand if I hadn’t reached deep, deep, deep down inside myself first. I’m the one who crawled out of the abyss. I’m the one who saved myself. Maybe that’s why I’m so prideful when it comes to matters of the self… I simply can’t dumb down my achievement. There is no better savior for a wretch like me… than me. That’s just how it is.

  “If that’s really how you feel, then…” He sighed. His whole body filled with breath and grew, then shrunk as he exhaled smoothly. “Then there’s not much I can do. But, let me tell you something. There’s nothing wrong with relying on people, Ceres. You know that. A princess… a woman I once knew taught me how to use my ice magic. Hmph.” He smiled and faintly laughed at the surfacing memory. “And let me tell ya something else. I would’ve died ten- no, a hundred different times if it weren’t for her. But I also get what you mean. There are some things we just have to do on our own. I get that. I really do. But don’t think for a second I would ever abandon you, you got that? Don’t think for a single second I’d ever turn away from a fight. Because I wouldn’t, and I haven’t. I’d fight for you to my dying breath, and it doesn’t have anything to do with me. It has to do with you. You’re special, Ceres. I don’t know how, but you’ve kept fighting through all this bullshit with a smile. You always look at people with kindness first. And you never, ever give up. That’s what I meant when I said you inspired me. I thought, ‘Wow. If a little girl can put up with this shit, then… why can’t I…?’” Grovalt’s voice broke slightly, and tears welled up in his eyes. He rubbed his face with his shirt and sniffled. The rushing wind pulled at his pale hair.

  Ceres nodded solemnly. “Okay. I’ll think about it. But, you really are in no condition to fight anyway. I mean… you were practically impaled…”

  Grovalt smiled. “Yeah, well… it hurt. It really did. Still does. But trust me, I’ve been through worse.”

  The young girl with verdant hair and draconic limbs managed a weak smile in spite of it all. It didn’t matter if it was forced. It only cemented Grovalt’s assessment of her.

  “Do not lose hope, little one,” Nakir intoned gruffly. He sounded a bit ill. “As long as the Aspect is in one piece, there is no telling what may happen. Have faith in it. Have faith in it just as you have had faith in your sister along our journey.”

  Zenzi nodded sagely. Her one owl-like eye peered out from her lengthy dark hair. Its vibrant iris glowed under the approaching crimson sky. “The Aspect of a living star… I had only heard of it in books. There are many, many relics across the world. And the world is very large, girl. Much larger than you have seen. But an Aspect is one of the most powerful. It is condensed high magic, truer than any relic known to man or beast.”

  “High magic? I think I’ve heard that before.”

  “Mhm,” Zenzi hummed. She blinked and her mouth raised into a straight line, as if she were tightening her face up. “There are many kinds of magic. Each is bound by rules, and each has varied effects. There is Conceptual, which draws from the psyche to incarnate mental concepts into reality. There is Summoning, which draws from the Reflection of the Planar Lenses, which-”

  “Arrrgh! Can ya stop yapping already!? I swear, all you do is read books! This is not the time, Zen! Look! Look at where we’re heading! Read the mood, huh?” Maxra exploded, waving her arms frantically as she berated her gloomy confidant.

  Venza cracked up, snickering beneath her cold visor.

  “Hmm… that is quite a shame. I was interested in how the outside world categorized the differences in spellcasting. In Sirithis, magic was, how to say… formless, I suppose. We did not put much thought into the differences in casting such spells, though we did have names for the various outcomes of said spells.”

  Maxra put her head in her hands in despair. “Not you too… Please, make it stop. I did not sign up for book club. If Archizend heard you two he’d… oh no. No, he’d join you. Oh, gods… I’m surrounded by nerds.”

  Chuckling came from the dragon’s back, though Nakir himself did not join in. Though the others had found the brief time to escape from their coming woes, the promised time had come all the same. And now it had done so for them.

  “Don’t worry about her,” Zenzi said. “She’s just jealous because anisai can’t use magic.”

  “They can’t? What about-”

  “That ain’t magic,” Maxra snapped. “And I’m not jealous. Anisai are… weird, to say the least. We may be similar to vampires with our leeching ability, but we can’t control blood or anything. We’re just stronger, faster, and smarter than humans. That’s about it.”

  “Smarter?” Zenzi teased. Maxra punched her in the shoulder, and Zenzi let out an uncharacteristic “Ow!”

  “The time is nigh. Focus,” Nakir boomed. Everyone went silent and stared into the raging storm. A shallow lake of blood coated the Outlands, sinking the craggy hills into black, sanguine mud.

  “What the hell…?” Grovalt stared in disbelief.

  “...What happened?”

  “She did,” Nakir said, nudging his head forward. Beyond the storm and the bloody expanse, a single angelic figure stood like an ivory monolith. The being was indescribably beautiful. Godly and incandescent.

  “Is that…?”

  “Yes. It is the Goddess Ymiris. My mother. Our god. It seems Nia had no reason to lie, after all. We were all born from this parasitic evil. Each and every one of us.”

  Ceres moved up closer to Nakir’s head. She clutched his scales and stared far into the distance at Ymiris with her superior vision. A cold, writhing fear began crawling on her back. Slimy uncertainty wrapped around her, enveloping her, injecting thoughts of running away. Running far away, leaving the Outlands to be totally consumed by the hellish corruption already plaguing them. “Nakir… what happens if we fail? What happens if we can’t stop her? And…” Ceres saw Nia. She had assumed a new form. Her black feathers had become monstrous wings, black as night. “What will happen to Nia?”

  Nakir quietly became lost in thought, lost in his pondering mind. “I… I don’t know. It is something I had hoped I would never have to imagine. Though… I fear we do not have long until these questions are answered. If we are to unravel the hazy mist obstructing us, we must confront them. This must be the end.”

  “Yeah…”

  “Are you scared, Ceres?”

  “Of course. But I’m more afraid of what would happen if we let go. If we fly away and ignore it all. To doom the world to… this. It’s too horrible to imagine.”

  “Quite so. I agree. Then, are we ready to descend? Are we ready to face what comes next?” His question was aimed not just at Ceres, but the Ravens as a whole.

  “This world has caused me nothing but pain,” Venza said. “But I’m not ready to give up on it. Not yet.”

  “Same here,” Grovalt declared. “And… it’s not all bad. Sometimes the worst times of our lives lead us to the best times. If I hadn’t helped these two crazy-”

  Two deadly stares cut into the pale man.

  “If I hadn’t helped these two lovely ladies,” he gulped, “then I never would have changed for the better. That’s for certain.”

  Raum nodded and he spoke as well, his voice akin to a butterfly landing softly on an outstretched hand. “Verily, it is the same for me. I was once a timelost crow who had forgotten the feeling of companionship. I had lost sight of the present. I could only look to the past for guidance and the future for consolation. But now, the present brings me tranquil dreams… and good friends.”

  Zenzi smiled. It lit up her pale face ever so slightly. “Friends? Interesting.”

  “What? Haven’t we been friends from the start?” Maxra looked across their faces in perplexity. “Whatever~ I agree, too. Let’s do this.”

  “So do I,” Zenzi added.

  Ceres peered into the orb that once served as Asteria’s innocent, pure heart. It gleamed with brilliant teal and azure colors, as if it also agreed.

  “Then,” Nakir continued. “Let us move forward.”

  As Nakir and the Ravens made their way to the site of Ymiris’s bloody emergence, the aforementioned archon and the winged Sorceress stared at one another in what felt like an everlasting standoff. Nia stood before the Goddess, her ink-blotted wings outstretched at her sides. Her body heaved with exhaustion, but something was giving her the strength to stand. Bright red blood still leaked from her chest and stomach, traveling in small streams across her legs and joining in a pool at her feet. Her eyes burned the very same crimson color.

  “You are to bow when in the presence of divinity, o winged one. I shall overlook thy impiety just this once and give thee another chance. Kneel. Kneel as your vassal did.”

  Nia stared into Ymiris’s two black voids with red, swirling frenzy. She remained silent.

  “Then face divine punishment, rebel.” Ymiris raised her arm lazily again. As she did, a bright golden light shone over her and a holy blade appeared within its aura soon after.

  Ding! Slishhh…

  “...Impressive.”

  The holy blade was cut in twine by Arkiel’s sword. Nia had moved faster than the night in a plume of wrathful darkness. Her steps formed hellish cracks in the ground.

  “Be still, if you would.” Ymiris closed her hand. Multicolored portals ripped open in space around the black angel. Chains then unraveled out from them, tightly wrapping around the Sorceress’s body and limbs. She didn’t even struggle. “Now you shall face judg-”

  Ravenous energy encircled Nia in sparks, filling the otherworldly chains with dark red light. They shook and clanged, then exploded in clouds of dispelled magical energy. Wisps of mana spiraled outward and disappeared into the air. The chains, having been shattered, returned from whence they came. The portals closed just as quickly as they had opened.

  Before the Goddess could react to such a disrespectful display, the winged woman rushed at her and swung mightily. Slash. Slash. Slash. Slash. Slash. Whirling slashes over and over, sending echoing arcs of scarlet radiance across the ruined lands. With each swing, the dark clouds above cried out in pain. With each step, the malignant lightning struck the abominable ground around the two monstrous entities.

  With more waves of her marble hands, Ymiris sent dozens of shining swords at Nia at a pace not unlike an automatic carbine. They shot through the air and blasted pits into the space behind Nia. She managed to swiftly dodge each one as if Ymiris’s magic was child’s play.

  Too close now. Nia neared the Goddess again, slashing at her with the horrifying blade. With a thrust, Ymiris deflected the sword with a holy greatsword she quickly manifested in the nick of time. “Now…!” While Nia was distracted by the swordplay, the Goddess sent another holy projectile at her at a blistering speed. It pierced straight through her right shoulder, gouging a perfect hole through her flesh. The searing light cauterized the wound somewhat, while also sending immense pain Nia’s way.

  But Nia felt none of it. She felt nothing. The blade vanished at Ymiris’s whim, and the angel made another swift slash at the archon. This time, she landed it. Three of Ymiris’s fingers on her left hand were severed. They clinked along the pallid floor and rolled to a stop. Ravenous energy ate at the remaining stubs.

  The Goddess floated slightly off the ground and observed her damaged phalanges. Her many bountiful wings surrounded her form with a soft white. “Such power… it would seem the dragonkin was no liar. Although, a pinprick is not enough to claim a soul such as mine. Thou would need a blade powerful enough to rend the planet to claim it, for I am the world itself. The elements, the fauna, the flora, all heed my call as I am their creator and their mother eternal!”

  The earth shook and split open from her emergence point, and soon the cracks looped and splintered off colossal boulders of rock and dirt. Lifting her hands deftly, the Goddess threw handfuls of towering boulders at the Sorceress with the sole aim to crush her into a fine paste.

  Nia flapped her wings and dodged one, then another, but the next was too fast. With a vertical strike, the mortal blade cleaved the earthen orb in two and let out a deafening shatter. Relentlessly, she flew at Ymiris with naught but lunacy driving her will.

  “My moon… why do you obstruct me so? We wish for the same thing. What is the cause of this malice? The cause of such vitriolic enmity?”

  Nia still did not answer. With her growing wings, feathers falling off from the sheer force with which she flapped them, the Sorceress did not cease her aerial pursuit.

  “Begone,” the Goddess intoned, and an expanding force of light erupted from her body and struck Nia down. The Sorceress flew backward and crashed into one of the many deep pits dug out by Ymiris following her chucking of debris. “Come forth, thy plague. Let your hunger claim those that still seek to hinder the Goddess’s last word.”

  The sea of ichor began bubbling profusely. The many floating bodies of mercenaries and pilgrims alike began to sink into its murky depths and become one with the primordial deluge.

  Nia flapped her wings, dust and decay flowing off of them like a centuries-old cape. She peered up at the thundering sky and immediately noticed another black, winged being descending upon the ruined land rapidly.

  “Grovalt, defend the others. Ceres, stay upon me. We shall lay them both to rest, be it in death or otherwise!” Nakir roared across the Outlands. Azure flame gathered across his neck and within his throat. His eyes burned with the same fiery ferocity.

  “Aye,” Grovalt chimed, jumping from the black dragon’s back with his trusty greatsword in hand. His boots disappeared as they sunk into the shallow liquid. The rest apart from Ceres joined him. He quickly closed his eyes and began channeling all the magical power he could muster. Sigils glowed across his skin. Ice crystallized in the air around him. He knew whatever came next would push him to his absolute limits. Limits surpassing those that he’d crossed during his final confrontation with Graves. There was no reason to hold back now.

  “Look! Across the lake!” Maxra shouted.

  Appearing at the crest of a muddy, bloody crag was a large band of fifty or so cavaliers, all wielding lances and greatswords forged in gray steel lined with azure accents. Many of them featured whimsical facial hair like those of the knights of old. The Altruin reinforcements had finally arrived. They gaped in unbelievable awe and horror at what had and was transpiring.

  “What in the bloody hell…?”

  “What’s going on? Where are the others!?”

  “Quiet!” Honored Knight-Captain Gillaro, Reginald’s superior, led the pack. He was adorned in full Altruin knighthood. His helmet was shaped like that of a spartan, its plume a wild blue and white color. Tiny slits allowed him to peer through it and spy the atrocities laid before them. He raised his mighty greatsword. It was infused with sparking electricity that passed across the blade in small streaks. “It would appear our comrades have fallen to whatever monstrosity crawled out from the disturbance! But we have trained! We have fought! We will not falter from trivial matters such as these! Altruin needs us! The king needs us! Prince Alexander needs us! Do not fail your city and country, lads!”

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  The army grunted in unison, saluting.

  “Then, onward! On me! Break into four sections surrounding me and take this evil force head-on!”

  The army screamed, battle fury and adrenaline fueling their charge. They stampeded across the bloody fields, kicking up trillions of sanguine droplets. Imprinting thousands of hoofprints across the putrid battleground.

  “Altruinians? Well, beggars can’t be choosers.” Grovalt turned from the charging knights and continued to channel his magic. His arms and neck burned with magical icons. They ignited numerous memories of his time spent learning them with Inara. He had poured over each and every one of them in her books for hours on end. Never had he thought all of them would matter. Now, they did. Each one would push him just that much more. Push him to be able to do what he wanted. To help this girl achieve her dream. To go as far as they could. To lengthen the lifespan of the world just that much more. He wasn’t ready to throw everything away anymore. He would fight to the bitter end. He would fight until he didn’t have the strength to open his eyes anymore, and even then he would fight. Until he died, there was no such thing as giving up. Doing so would be like committing suicide, and suicide was out of the question. He would dishonor all the people that allowed them to get this far. Old Man Hadrik’s kind smile appeared within his mind. He smiled at the thought.

  “Aggghhh!”

  “Ahhh! What is that thing!? Ah-”

  “Urglglgl-”

  Gillaro looked behind himself as he rode across the red marsh. His men were being dragged underneath the shallow lake, horse and all. “What the hell is going on!?”

  “Sir! There’s something beneath the blood! Some- Aggh!” Gillaro’s right hand man and his horse were grasped by a large, jagged claw and dragged beneath the bloody water.

  From the crimson sea came monstrous beings resembling man and beast. They walked hunched on all fours. Their faces featured huge spiked maws filled with rows and rows of fangs. Acidic green fluid dripped from between them. They rose from the water as if birthed from it; their fleshy bodies melded and came together like that of the hounds and creatures Imeldra conjured back at Nia’s family manor. They shrieked terribly, adding to the cacophony of thunderous lightning and screams from the Altruin knights.

  “Ride, men! Ride to the whitened plateau! Get away from the bloody tide!”

  It was far too late of a realization. The fifty or so men dwindled to half that much, the deceased having died from drowning, being eaten, or being melted down to the bone by the plaguefiends’ acidic saliva. Luckily, the whitening had encompassed more than half of the Outlands and served as high ground for the knights. Even so, the plaguefiends did not stop there. They lumbered out of the red mud and ran after their prey like giant, houndish humans. They slashed them in half, devoured them whole, and spat viscous acid at them to hinder their movement. The horrible dying wails of both horses and men filled the air.

  The Ravens, having seen the display, quickly made their way up the northern part of the plateau as well. Now they defended themselves from the sudden threat along with the surviving knights and their captain.

  “Nakir…! It’s… it’s…”

  “Hush, now.” Nakir flew across the devastation eyeing the Goddess, the source of all the world’s misery. “We shall make her pay for it soon enough.”

  The black dragon and the Goddess came to meet one another in the sky above the desolate Outlands. The moth-like creature akin to a god raised her arms high up as she had long before the land was a writhing, putrid travesty. She revealed two more arms under her normal ones that outstretched and came to her sides.

  “Another dragonkin has come to cleave my head from my shoulders, I presume? It would seem thy world seeks to struggle more than I had hoped.”

  Hot flame bellowed from Nakir’s maw. “You will suffer for your transgressions, false god! You are no mother of mine! You shall burn under my flame and join your wretched creations as ash!” Unceasing, unrelenting flame shot from Nakir’s mouth and caressed the Goddess with sinister hands. The iridescence did nothing but slightly sear Ymiris’s heavenly wings.

  She retorted with a conjured spear of blinding light, which she hurled at the dragon with a flick of her hand. It struck him in his burning chest, hindering his flight for a moment, but he regained his luster and kept pouring everflowing flame over her body to little effect.

  “I see… the dragons are near extinction, are they not? Or are they very rare? They have become so weak over the millenia. It is enough to despair, to say the least.” Ymiris did nothing but gaze into the black dragon’s weary eyes. His flame did little to damage her. It seemed as though she were regenerating faster than he could burn her exterior away. “Though, even the dragonlords could not hope to best an archon. My creations cannot kill me, for I am their maker and master. None can hope to best me, poor dragonkin. I am the world. I am magic. I am thy fear. I am thy anguish. I am all and I am everything. There is-” The Goddess’s speech halted. As Nakir’s flame receded and his strength faltered, she could see the small girl riding atop his back and the item she hugged for dear life. A radiant, cerulean orb dotted with mesmerizing colors. And in her other hand… a certain dagger.

  “You’re wrong!” Ceres screamed at the top of her lungs. Tears streamed down her cheeks in rivers. “Nakir is stronger than anyone! He can save anyone! He can save you!”

  Ymiris gazed at Ceres emotionlessly with her insectile visage. Her mouth, as per usual, did not move one bit as she spoke. “Save me? And what would the dragonkin hope to save this archon from, I wonder?”

  Ceres bared her dagger, fear and elation clouding her eyes. “Her!”

  A sickening, gorey sound. A pearlescent bident pierced through Ymiris’s back and through her chest. Her four limbs twitched in bewilderment. She peered back at her aggressor.

  It was Arkiel, wounded but healing. She had grabbed late Nyame’s ritualistic bident during the second culling of the Altruin knights. Mighty red wings protruded from her back. Following the attack, she unleashed fiery red lightning, not unlike that which fell from the sky, onto Ymiris at point-blank range. The Goddess cricked her neck as if she were about to scream, but not a sound came out.

  Pinned between azure and scarlet flame, Ymiris was finally vulnerable. Ceres made a daring decision. She leapt from Nakir’s onyx snout with her father’s dagger pointed straight forward. She launched her arm with it as hard as she could and drove it home. It dug right into the black slit of Ymiris’s left eye. Startlingly, a rush of black blood drenched the hybrid. Some of it floated in mid-air enigmatically. The dagger had done its job. It stuck out of the Goddess’s head like a horn. It had destroyed one of her harrowing eyes completely. Ceres hung from it for dear life. Dragonfire swirled below her, burning at her human flesh devoid of scales. She cried out in painful agony.

  “Oh…” Arkiel let out a crude whisper. She had finally noticed something. Two mighty greatswords of shimmering sunlight had slowly manifested over each dragon. And now, they fell upon them, impaling them and sending them tumbling down to the whitening battleground below. One went through Arkiel’s side, and the other pierced directly through Nakir’s chest and heart. The red and black dragon crashed to the ground in a whirlwind of smoke, blood, and ash. All that was left was the Goddess and one little girl clinging onto her for dear life.

  “That… hurts…? What is this weapon, child?” Ymiris’s voice grew more frantic. Her usual calmness distorted slightly into a confused screeching. “What is it!?” She closed one of her elegant hands around Ceres’s throat. “Speak. Tell me.” It grew tighter with each second of silence. “Then I shall delve into thy mind myself!” The Goddess closed her only good eye, and her third eye opened once more. Its indescribable colors shifted and reacted to the hybrid, as if it was another hand or claw desperately reaching out and probing her mind for answers.

  Memories. Memories. Memories. Endless thoughts and emotions whirled through the Goddess’s complex brain. She searched and searched. The searching was frantic yet deliberate. She didn’t know how, but this girl had managed to injure her.

  A village girl… a lone girl managed to injure I, a goddess? What is this weapon? Where did she acquire it?

  More and more memories flicked by like faded photographs. Taxidermied moments recreated through neural patterns and fragments.

  Where… where… where…

  Then, at last, something.

  Ceres’s father returning from another expedition. He always came home with a giant backpack. It always made her laugh. He would set it down on the table, adjust his glasses, and ramble on and on about the adventures he had gone on. Though, he never went into detail. He would only speak of the things he found, not the places he found them in. One of them was a gleaming, silver dagger with a beautiful, ornate cloth wrapped around its hilt. She faintly remembered what he had said as he showed it to her.

  “This is my most prized find, Ceres. The pride of my life’s work. Have the elders ever told you of the ancient hero Keldris?”

  Ceres shook her head.

  It was one of the rare times her dad ever told her of the outside world and its dark, unfolding past. “Long, long ago there was a kel-anisai named Keldris. He was once kind and noble, though he was born in a poor clan. One day, his clan was attacked by the mighty Kel-Dragon. It killed his family and friends, then came to him with cackling words. ‘Become strong,’ the dragonlord said. ‘Become strong and find me. When you do, kill me.’

  And so Keldris trained and trained until he was stronger than any living creature on the planet. He could crack mountains with a single punch. He could snap trees in half with a nudge of his elbow. He could split the earth with a single stomp. Thus, he tracked down each and every dragonlord. The Five Dragonlords of Aeos. They were Glisceron the Bountiful, Ezeron the Executor, Hadrokos the Ruinous, Oriphos the Wise, and the strongest of them all: the Kel-Dragon. One by one, he fought them for weeks on end and slaughtered them all. His battle with the Kel-Dragon is said to have lasted years.

  Before he landed the killing blow on his nemesis, the Kel-Dragon spoke to him again. ‘Thank you for freeing us, strong one. You are a kel-anisai surpassing all kel-anisai. Once you kill me, you can forsake your strength. Become kind. Use our hides. Use our blood. Use our bones. Forge a new world with our bodies to lay the foundation for the new fledglings. Now, kill me.’ And Keldris slew the Kel-Dragon.

  Following the dragonlord’s wish, he forged many things. The first of which was a dagger made from the bones and scales of all of the dragonlords combined. He even used one of his own fingerbones to make it as well. Within it, he poured all of his hatred, all of his sorrow, all of his grief. He had thought that without those things, he would be nothing but a hollow shell. But after forging the legendary knife, he found within himself only kindness, compassion, and love. And so he kept creating… until his inevitable end.

  This is it, Ceres! This is his dagger! A dagger made from all of them… a dagger made from the Five Dragonlords and the strongest kel-anisai to ever live: Keldris the Nightmare.”

  The memory ended. The reel stopped. The photograph shriveled up and faded out of sight.

  “It… it isn’t… it isn’t possible…” Ymiris struggled to conjure up the words to match her thoughts. “A lowly human… to find such an artifact… to leave such a thing in…”

  Ceres struggled to cling onto the knife digging into the Goddess’s cranium, but she held on regardless. Even her dragon arms ached. She faintly smiled. “My dad… he was never good at hiding things.”

  “To leave such a thing in a wooden compartment… it is… it is…”

  “Stupid? Yeah… he wasn’t the smartest. That’s what my mom loved about him, though. He had a different way of looking at things, like his eyes were looking through to a totally different world. …Even then, he loved us. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of them…”

  The Goddess Ymiris floated in perplexed shock.

  “Mom… Dad… Asteria… I’ll see you soon…” With that, Ceres pulled the dagger diagonally across the Goddess’s face and her hands slipped from its hilt. As a result, she fell from the great height the two had been hovering at. The rushing air pummeled her back. Lightning struck around her. The cries of the Altruin knights became louder and louder. The shrieks of the plaguefiends met her ears… but it all began to fade away. As the ground came into view, her troubles seemed to wash clean. She thought of the coast by her home. Of her and Asteria playing amongst that moonlit tide. A warmth filled her chest. A familiar warmth. Magical energy filled her breast. The Aspect, which she also clung to, burned brighter than the scarlet levin threatening to incinerate her frail form. She felt… protected.

  This is… Nia found herself in a familiar world. Except, it was black as night. There was no heavenly white to speak of. No pale floor. No sweet fragrance to guide her. Just as before, when her emotions had gotten the better of her, she had been here. Black tendrils locked her in place. Chains pierced her eyelids and forced her to watch what she wrought. She was an angel of darkness, killing all that stood in her way like some wild animal. Plaguefiends. Knights. She ascended against the backdrop of the apocalypse, against the Black Moon, and swung her sword diagonally to her side. Madness had long overtaken her. Stars and asteroids collide with the earth, killing them all. All by her hand. She was an angel of death.

  “...save her…”

  Who? Who was that? Who did that beautiful voice belong to?

  “Save her…”

  And what was that thing? That weird, jagged thing falling from the sky? A human? A dragon? Both? Neither? Who cares?

  “Please… save her, Nia. For me?”

  I… I can’t. I can’t move.

  “Yes, you can! Don’t listen! Climb! Climb out of that abyss! Rip those chains from your eyes! Tear those tendrils from your body! The moon does not own you!”

  This voice… it’s…

  Lily…?

  “Fight! Keep fighting! Yes, there you go! Please, don’t stop now! She’s about to hit the ground! You’re the only one who can save her! Think of her as an extension of myself! Feel her breath against yours! We are all sisters! She carries a love for her sister just as you do for me! Feel her love! Understand her! You have to understand her! You have to save her, Nia! Please, if nothing else, do it for me. It’s all I wish for.”

  I… Okay.

  I think… I’m beginning to understand.

  This is all I have left to do. One final act.

  It hurts…

  It hurts so much…

  My mind… my thoughts…

  she flies towards the burning

  horizon she readies her

  weapon is this what she would have

  wanted her sister her angel look at her

  now an angel of death the

  opposite of what she stood

  for the falling stars collide with the

  earth she can’t stop now its voice won’t

  stop the black moon coats the land and her

  mind in wriggling ichor filled with

  fear, doubt and loneliness are all that’s

  left once her mind is gone the world will be

  desolate everything is pale everything is

  white no sound no thought no feeling only

  otherworldly chimes ringing out to herald

  the end is nigh the world is doomed

  but it’s still better than a world without

  her a world without her is not worth living

  in and the soul of a girl is a priceless

  thing I’m not ready to die here not to some

  god or beast or nightmare that calls itself our

  savior to drink our blood and transcend beyond what

  is possible when all that’s left is to give up your

  will to fight to the end because the fighting never

  stops until the present fades and future takes

  hold we live and die just to become

  the echoes of the past that settle around a pure white

  Lily, I miss you please come back to me

  No.

  That’s wrong.

  She’s here.

  She’s here! I can hear her!

  It did work… it wasn’t all for naught… I can hear her!

  “Please, Nia! Now!”

  Okay, okay, I get it. Heh.

  What a mess I’ve gotten myself into.

  All for you. But I don’t have any regrets.

  It was only because I did those horrible things… that I finally got to hear your wonderful voice again.

  So… this isn’t to make up for that. Not at all. But I would do anything for my sister. And I know she would, too. I can feel it. That warmth. It’s… protecting her.

  Maybe we really are similar. We can’t do anything alone.

  Black feathers filled Ceres’s vision. She had been caught by something. Someone. She peered up, her heart beating out of her chest. Nia held her, her black wings carrying them somewhere. Her eyes seemed different somehow. That endlessly spiraling madness and the deep sunken red. It had been replaced with normal, crimson eyes. She looked a lot like Imeldra had at the end of her life.

  “Don’t look at me like that. I didn’t save you because I wanted to, alright? I was asked to.” For a moment, she gazed deeply into the Aspect, then averted her eyes. She descended into the center of the pale plateau and set her down near Nakir’s bleeding body. With an expression that almost looked like pity, Nia flew off without another word. Flew off towards the angelic aberration that warped the world and drove it to the brink of nothingness.

  “Nakir…! Oh, no…”

  “Little one…”

  “I thought… only Arkiel’s blade could…”

  Nakir closed his eyes and managed to weakly shake his head. “I told you, did I not? Dracomancy tears the immortal soul of a dragon each time it is used. When I saved your life the last time… it in turn marked me for death…”

  Ceres opened her mouth, but no words came out. She tried to speak, eking out brief sounds, but could not bring herself to.

  Nakir’s eyes grew hazy. A damp sleepiness like warm rain fell on his body in hundreds of tearful droplets. “I can… cast it one last time. It will make no difference, Ceres. It will simply speed up the process… and it will grant you the means by which to finish this hellish quest we have found ourselves on…”

  Ceres felt her face tighten as if it were being pulled back by hooks. She approached the black dragon who had saved her so many times, more times than she could count, and sat atop his crooked wing pulled near his head. She put her arms around his mighty neck and hugged him for all she had. Tears fell from her eyes and onto his many onyx scales.

  Nakir studied Ceres’s face with his vertically-slitted eye, trying desperately to inscribe and cement her memory into his own. To burn her image into not just his own mind, but the memory of the world. He looked down at Asteria’s mesmerizing heart, still in Ceres’s hands.

  Ceres forced a crooked smile hindered by wails rising in her throat. She couldn’t stop herself from crying. She sniffled. “Look, Asteria. I kept our promise. We’re friends with a dragon, after all. No… more than that. We’re family.”

  “Family. It is… nice to meet you, Asteria…” He closed his eyes.

  Ceres held him tighter.

  “I am… Nakir. A dragon… of high renown… that has lived… since the beginning of time…”

  Ceres held him even tighter, but she could not keep him from departing. The door was much too wide. Within the magical chimes resonating from the old dragon’s hunched body, he finally drew his last breath and slipped into that endlessly welcoming sleep. Nakir died with a pleasant smile on his warm face.

  And Ceres wept, and as she did, the invocation Nakir had cast transformed her into an adolescent drake covered in verdant scales. She felt Nakir’s wish deep within her, giving her the power to overcome the divine tyrant once and for all.