Pillars of Dragonfire Read Online Free PDF Page B

as they
flew. Across the thousands of dragons, the wilderness sprawled to the horizon. Thousands
of miles still separated them from Requiem, and many enemies perhaps waited
along the way. And yet beyond the horizon it lay. Their homeland.
    Let Requiem be my third
home, Lucem thought. Let it be a home to all of us. A home of light, of
safety, and of peace.

 
 
MELIORA

    The children of Requiem
gathered in the wilderness under the heat of the blinding sun.
    The land was burnt
around them. The rushes along the river, the trees, the forests, all had burned
in the fire of Saraph when the first slaves had escaped to find hope. Now half
a million Vir Requis had fled their captivity, and they covered the land.
    Most stood or lay as
humans, nursing their wounds. Many flew as dragons above the camp, protecting
those below. The Vir Requis carried their meager supplies with them—skins of
water, sacks of oatmeal, a few pickaxes, some dried fruit, not much more.
    Meliora walked up a
hill until she stood above the camp. In dragon form, her front foot had been
wounded in the battle, and now her hand was bandaged, blazing, screaming with movement.
The hot wind billowed her tattered burlap robe, and her good hand rested on the
hilt of Amerath, her ancient sword of kings and queens. The sun beat down upon
her, browning her limbs, and her halo crackled above her head.
    What a figure she must
have struck, she thought. Only a few months ago, she had been a different
person. Nobody from that time of her life would recognize her now. Once she had
worn gowns of finest muslin, adorned with precious jewels. Swan wings had grown
from her back, and golden hair had cascaded across her shoulders. Her skin had
been pale, soft, powdered. Today that skin was tanned and covered in scabs and
bruises. Her hair was but stubble on her head, and instead of a golden halo,
she stood crowned with dragonfire. No more swan wings grew from her back, but
two scars ran there along her shoulder blades, reminders of who she had been,
who she could never be again.
    My seraph half died
with my wings, she thought. I am nothing but a daughter of Requiem now,
pure.
    "Children of
Requiem!" she cried, and below the hill, the people turned toward her.
"Hear me, children of Requiem!"
    They stared up at her.
Thin, hungry, wounded. Wearing rags. Their ankles still chafed from the chains
they had discarded. A brutalized people, heirs to a kingdom they had never
forgotten.
    Meliora summoned her
magic and soared as a dragon.
    She rose high and cried
out, her voice rolling across the camp.
    "I am Meliora
Aeternum! I brought you the Keeper's Key, and I freed you from your collars,
but the danger has not passed." She flew across the multitudes below,
letting them all hear. "The cruel Ishtafel was dealt a blow, but if he
still lives, he's licking his wounds, and he's building a new army. If he's
dead, then whatever heir Saraph places upon the throne will hunt us. We will
fly fast. We will continue fleeing."
    She could see the fear
in them. That was good. They needed to be afraid now. That fear twisted
Meliora's own heart.
    "You are free now,
children of Requiem!" she said. "You are free warriors, no longer
slaves. And you will fight to see Requiem again. Our kingdom lies across many
miles. Even as the dragon flies, Requiem lies a moon away, and many dangers
wait along that path: armies of seraphim and creatures even darker. And even
should we reach Requiem, we will find nothing but ruins."
    The crowd murmured
below. Some cried out in anguish.
    "But we will fly
there nonetheless!" Meliora said. "Because Requiem is our home. It
has been our home for five thousand years, since our ancestor, King Aeternum, raised
a column in a birch forest. That column still stands! It awaits us. We will
seek it across the miles, and we will be a proud nation again. This I promise
to you, Vir Requis. I will lead you to our land. I will lead you home."
    They cried out to her,
hundreds of thousands, the last