We followed Leo where he led us, back into the keep and up a set of wide stairs to the first floor. We passed other dragoons as we walked, both knights and dragons, all of whom gave us passing looks of curiosity. I pointed my ears down as far as they would go and tried to hunch my shoulders and let my hair fall forward to cover them. There wasn't any way I could keep this secret from the rest of the corps for long, especially if they already knew about it from Griffin. But I didn't want to answer any probing questions. Not yet, at least.

Leo opened a door just like all the others that connected to these hallways, ushering us inside. The bunks were slightly less barren than I had expected. It was actually three rooms, a sleeping area for humans and one that looked like it was for dragons, and then a small common area in the middle where the door was. The common wasn't more than three low tables, one of which bore a wide but short wooden box and the other two of which had tiny, simplistic flower vases on them. The dragons' bedroom was essentially a giant nest made out of simple brown cloth with a long chest at the back and a few shelves on the walls, while the humans' had four pairs of bunk beds with stockier chests at the base of each, a small basin, and a shrine adorned with only a black copper icon of the Luminary Cross.

"Claim your beds as you wish," said Leo. "The chests are for any personal effects you wish to keep. Your flight-mates will be here shortly. Please refrain from leaving before then." He nodded and stepped back out the door. "Welcome to the corps."

The door closed with a whumph of air, and we were alone in the room. We stood still in momentary silence before Grace became the first to break for the bunks, climbing up to sit down on the top layer of the bed nearest to us. I went to sit down below her while Arthur and Rosalie put their things away in another bunk's chest. Juniper sat down next to me, tentatively putting a paw up on the bed and glancing over at me until I rolled my eyes and helped lift her up. She turned in three tight circles before laying down, quickly flopping her head over onto my lap.

I gave her some absent-minded scratches as I stared forward. I was slowly processing what a big commitment I'd just made. I didn't like it. I hated it, in fact. The finality in Cynthia's warning really struck me. There wasn't any going back once this evening came. No possibility of retreat or escape, no backup plan. Maybe I could do some research into ways to reverse whatever their "initiation" entailed once we got out of this keep. Just another life change to throw on the pile of things I wanted to undo about the last week.

"I can't believe it!" Grace said in a half-whisper. "I can hardly believe it! We didn't even have to pass an aptitude test, they're really just letting us in!" She leaned over the ledge of her bunk to give me a wide, upside-down grin. "Belfry, do you know what this means?"

"No," I said, doing my best to humour her.

"We're going to be knights! Real knights!" She laughed and fell back on her bed before abruptly breaking into sniffles. "I wish Pa could see us. He'd be so proud."

I laid down too, focussing on the miasma of melancholy that arose in my mind. "Right," I said, unable to pull my voice out of a deadpan. "I suppose he would. He did always want you to keep after your dreams like this."

A moment of fragile silence, then Grace said, "You, too. He would be proud of you too."

I pressed my mouth shut, not wanting to detract from her joy with realism.

"Did something happen to you guys' dad?" Arthur asked from his own bunk.

The melancholy in my mind broke into a seething tide of anger. I rolled over in the bed to stare straight at the stone wall. "He's dead," I said bluntly. And that was that. Arthur shut up and all conversation died until the door swung open wide again, and a small crowd came marching in.

Griffin entered first, the hood of their cloak fully down this time, putting their short but feathery hair on display, along with the scales that reached over their face. Without the hood, I could tell that they had more scales than me in human form, though only a small amount. Behind them was the man that they had pointed out as Ingo, walking purposefully with a hard expression and tapping his cane along the floor ahead of each step. He was a good deal heavier than he had looked sitting down. I could see his amulet better this close up, but all that it had marked on it was an engraving of some kind of heraldry featuring bears seeming to hold up a shield with crowns and swords and flowers displayed on it, none of which I recognised as the symbol of anything specific.

Then, there was a human I didn't recognise, not wearing the dragoons' uniform. They were taller than everyone else except for Ingo, with wavy black hair that swept over their face down to their jaw and a sparse black beard and moustache. Their face was gentle, with a pale golden-beige tone and greyish-brown eyes that were surrounded by faint creases that told tales of a contented lifetime behind silver, thin-framed circular glasses. They wore a brown leather hat that had a brim that was longer and pointed at the front and folded up at the back. The rest of their garb was unusual for the Vale. It looked like it was partly made with local pieces, and partly of ones that were foreign to the province. Their leather gloves, tall boots bearing metal plates on the shins, and heavy belt seemed like they were Valish-made, but their dark brown upper garment that was wrapped and tied over their chest, open lighter brown jacket with large squarish sleeves, and baggy, pleated, faded burgundy trousers were pieces I had never seen before. The trousers seemed like they had only been dyed burgundy recently, with tiny bits of a previous blue colour visible in some of the deep pleats. The right sleeve of their upper garments were folded and sewn into the shoulder without an arm to fill it.

Then, behind the humans came a dragon. It was the first time I had been up close with a dragon while I was in human form since before the attack five years, ago, and I had gotten used to being nearly the same size as Arthur. Now, I was reminded that they were a fair bit bigger than me normally. It was the rust-scaled dragon I had taken note of in the refectory, the one with the spike-lined dome crowning their head and a clubbed tail that swung slowly as they entered the room, a standoffish expression on their face and their vibrant yellow eyes looking around like they expected a fight. Dark blotches were splashed across their hide on their back and stunted wings, interspersed with small spikes that sprouted from around their joints and along their back.

Leo entered the room behind them, shutting the door and standing at attention. "Ninth Flight, listen up!" he shouted, suddenly severe and commanding. The four of us that had been slowly standing from our beds as all these new people entered jumped to the floor and stood at attention, as did all the newcomers except that rusty dragon.

"All of you have made a pledge to join the honourable Dragoon Corps!" Leo continued. "That means that you have pledged to take on missions to keep peace in the Vale. You'll get your chance at a mission soon, but first, you need training, all of you! Your training will be conducted under my supervision starting tomorrow at dawn, and your initiation will be held tonight at sundown. If you decide you can't handle this, make that choice before initiation. You have only a few hours.

"Until then, get to know your flight-mates. These are the comrades that you may spend years fighting side by side with. Make sure you don't tear out each other's throats. You have free reign to roam the academy until you are called for the initiation process tonight. Be at the armoury by then. Don't make us come find you."

He stood straight and pounded his closed fist over his heart. "Serve as One!" he called, before turning and marching back out the door.

The moment he was gone, I dropped the attentive stance I had only half-heartedly been holding and stretched my back, keenly aware of the phantom limbs that had been stressed by the position.

"Feels like how I've heard people talk about the Confederation Army," I muttered.

The man in the foreign garb put his hand to his chin. "It is a continuation of the cuirassiers, which were attached to the army from my understanding," he said. He had a mild accent that was just as untraceable as his clothes.

Ingo wordlessly marched into the bunk room and dumped a bundle of belongings into the chest of the bunk that Grace and I had claimed earlier. I thought about protesting and decided it wasn't worth it. The bunks were basically all the same, and neither of us had left anything in that chest anyway.

"You get used to it," he said. His voice was like a grindstone: rough and scouring.

"I don't think I want to," I grumbled as I went to plop myself down in a low chair beside the tables in the common area.

Ingo turned his head towards me. "Then maybe you don't belong here," he growled.

I cracked my knuckles loudly. I could see what Griffin had been talking about earlier. How dare this stranger make such an accusation?

"Hey," Griffin spoke up. "I think we should make introductions. Right?" They didn't wait for a response before taking a deep breath and starting, their voice shuddery. "I'm Griffin Fairchild. I'm an ersatz dragon, and I'm partnered with Ingo. Right now." They pointed at the grouchy man. "I'm good with a map, and I'm pretty good at surviving in the woods. And the swamps. You know."

I took the opportunity to jump in. "I'm Belfry," I said. "I'm also an ersatz dragon. I'm with my sister Grace."

The rest of us four that I knew took turns making brief introductions, Grace calling herself a mercenary, Arthur a monster hunter, and Rosalie reminding us of her connection to House Lecerf. I could have sworn I saw Ingo's eye twitch when she said the words "House of", but it was only for a fraction of a second.

"My name is Yura," the man with the foreign clothes said, raising his hand and stepping towards the centre of the little improvised circle the eight of us had formed. "I'm from far away from Rimewater Vale. I came here from the Kiiro Islands to the south." He bowed, his hand sliding down his legs rather than pressing against his side as was custom for bows in the Vale. "I am happy to meet you all."

Everyone slowly turned to look towards Ingo, who hadn't reacted to anyone yet. "Ingo?" Griffin prompted.

Ingo sighed. "Ingo Helmont," he said. "I fight. Well."

There was a pause as we waited for him to continue, but he did not. "He's also blind," Griffin eventually added. "Sorry, Ingo. I think that they should know. You know, if they're going to work with us." Their voice gradually tapered into a quiet squeak as they talked, keeping their eye on Ingo. He continued to say nothing, just shrugged and leaned up against a wall.

Attentions turned to the dragon, who had thus far just watched. Or, at least, I thought they had. The rusty dragon was busy picking at imperfections in the tiling on the floor with their claws, seemingly not paying attention to anything being said. They finally looked up when Arthur gave them a nudge with his elbow, and they let out a few low growls before going back to picking at the floor.

"'Brand'," said Yura. "She said her name is 'Brand', and that she doesn't really want to talk."

The dragon seemed impressed at that. I raised my eyebrow quizzically. "You can speak that language?" I asked.

"I can't speak it personally," said Yura. "But I can understand it. To a degree; I would not call myself entirely fluent. It's proved to be a useful skill in my travels."

Hearing that, the dragon gave a few more sentences, letting Yura translate. "She says that you can also call her 'Rusty', since that is her sign."

"Sign…" Grace repeated. "That Cypress guy also asked for our 'signs'. Does that mean something?"

"It's a knight thing," said Griffin. "Knight and dragon pairs get calling signs. They help you identify people quickly by sight. Since the sign is usually based on the dragon's scale colour. I've heard a few since I got here." They nodded their head towards me. "You'll probably have to pick one soon. Either tonight or tomorrow. I'm already thinking of going with 'Cinnabar'."

"Cinnabar, huh," I muttered. I already had one in mind, the same name I gave to that lady in Bryn Corben. But the thought still made me a little nervous. The way Griffin said it didn't make it sound like you gave up your old name for the sign, but that was still the thought in my head, especially if the other dragoons got more familiar with my sign than my name. I'd already given up far more than I wanted, I couldn't also give up my name.

Brand broke from the group first to go lay down in the nest, and pretty soon the rest of us started milling around the chambers. I wasn't entirely sure what to do with my time, and for the first time in a good long while, I started to feel bored. I would have loved to have brought a book with me, but I hadn't owned books in over a year.

I glanced out the windows a few times. Our room faced towards the inner bailey, so I could see all the courtyards and the little gardens in between. Two of the courtyards had two or three humans and dragons sparring in them each. Strangely, they seemed to be using real weapons rather than wooden or blunted training blades. As I watched, one of them pulled a lever attached to the crossguard of their sword out, sliding the blade down and revealing a thin metal barrel within. They pointed it at their opponent, and with a loud bang, a bullet exploded from the barrel, catching their opponent on the shoulder and drawing a trail of blood along the grass of the courtyard.

"Intriguing weaponry, isn't it?" Yura asked, suddenly and silently appearing to hover over my shoulder. I startled and backed away from the window as my nerves jumped at his presence.

"Weird weaponry, I'd say. Dangerous, too. I would have thought we'd spar with ones that aren't sharp." I turned back to see the knight now swinging the sword around, treating it like a pistol with an overlarge bayonet, which was practically what it was now. "I've never seen a weapon that changes form like that."

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"They're a knightly tradition," said Yura. "Ever since the invention of firearms, knights have looked for ways to combine their ranged and melee weaponry into one. I've been told that such combined weapons fall easier to hand when one is in the sky. Of course, I've been told that the cuirassiers did not keep up that tradition, since these types of arms are difficult to mass-produce."

I leaned on my hand. "I wonder if they'll give us ones like those."

"I would think so!" said Yura. "Though, I don't know if you in particular would need one. An ersatz dragon! How glorious that must be." I could hear the curious smile through his words.

I didn't have it in me to put on a façade for a stranger I'd only just met, so I let my distaste coat my face. "Not the adjective I'd use," I said, backing away from the window to sit down at the nearest table, which happened to be the one with the wooden box. In the past few minutes, someone had opened the box, revealing sets of boards and small painted and carved playing pieces inside. They looked like board games.

Yura leaned against the chair across from me, dropping his smile. "Is it not?" he said. When I didn't respond he simply nodded his head and took a seat. "I suppose it must be jarring to have your form changed so much. I'll leave it if it's a sore subject."

He gestured towards the game pieces. "Care to spend some time on a match?"

I gave a slow nod, squinting at all the pieces he pulled out. It looked like there were two games, one with carved wooden pieces and another with black and white beads, and Yura was taking out the beads. "I don't really know how to play this one," I said, leaving out the fact I didn't know how to play really any board game.

"Well, this is as fine a time to learn as any," said Yura. "I think you would stand to benefit from it. This is known as 'tũri', in the native tongue of its homeland, but I've heard people in these parts call it by the name 'fence'. It is designed to teach you strategy."

We played a few practise games, with Yura teaching me the basics: essentially just how to place pieces, and how to capture the opponent's pieces by encircling them. Yura was a surprisingly affable teacher, and I felt like I picked it up pretty quick. But soon, as the hours started to pass, we played real games, and even though Yura had the edge in almost every match, I could tell he was holding back, not playing as well as he could. As nice as he was, he had an awful impassive mask, and I could tell every time I made a bad move and he countered with one of his own. Soon Grace came over, not to talk, just to watch us, her eyes pinging back and forth between Yura and I as we each made our moves. I felt my blood growing hotter and hotter as she watched me fail again and again against someone going easy on me.

I was just about to throw in the towel and storm off to sulk when Ingo stood over us and tapped his cane directly in the middle of the board, shaking all of the pieces out of place. "Unless you want to get thrown out of the corps, you should stop playing games all day," he said. "It's almost sundown."

I looked up. So it was. The sun was only a hair over the horizon, and the colours of dusk were just being drawn across the sky out the window. The others had already begun to gather by the door.

"Right," I said. I jumped to my feet, ran over to give Juniper a goodbye pat, and then followed the rest of the flight as they filed out of the room and began marching down the hall, with Yura and Ingo behind me. As we walked down the halls, Yura took the liberty of pointing out some of the locations that were within the castle's grounds, including apparently a small library within the keep itself, a medical wing, and the armoury we were headed towards, which was a small, slope-roofed outbuilding abutting the inside of the inner wall, opposite the keep.

The courtyards had been all emptied by the time we began to make our way in between them, making the exterior of the keep a little hauntingly quiet. I really got the sense this place was designed to be occupied by hundreds of people, and was having to make do with a maximum of fifty.

Leo stood outside the door of the armoury, waiting for us as we arrived. "Punctual," he said as we lined up in front of him. "Good. Come."

The armoury wasn't just a place for storing weapons and armour. The building seemed to be divided in half, with the north wing holding much of that storage space, and the much larger south wing housing a huge forge and metallurgy workshop with eight people dressed in smithing aprons and heavy heat-resistant clothing pouring molten metal from a quartet of huge reservoirs and grinding, pressing, and beating plates and pieces into shape with an array of tools and mechanical devices that were integrated into their worktables. We were led through the forge to the tailoring workshop that rested beside it, divided by a thick wall that kept out the heat. It wasn't as visually impressive, but there were still several sets of small machines that I had seen advertised as automatic sewing machines in papers the last few years. Four workers were gathering small tape measures and rulers from the desks.

"You'll have your measurements taken for your dress and combat uniforms here," said Leo. "Grace. Rosalie. Ingo. Yura. You're up first."

The four of them stepped up, and the tailors took their measurements. It wasn't an overly long process, but I still started bouncing back and forth on my feet while waiting for them to finish. I tried to see if there were any completed uniforms around, and while there weren't any to look at, I figured that the combat uniform would be similar to what I had seen Cypress in, and what those recruits in the courtyard were sparring while wearing. I hadn't ever worn proper armour before, and the thought didn't make me terribly excited.

Once they were done, Leo ushered them back against the wall and gestured to the rest of us. "Belfry. Arthur. Griffin. You next."

I held my arms out to the side and closed my eyes, trying not to pay attention to the person touching my body. I knew they had to to get their numbers, but it still made my skin crawl when they wrapped their measure around my arms, waist, and even seemed to take the length of my ears.

"Good," said Leo. "Now, you'll need to assume your dragon forms. That storage room is currently empty and private." He pointed to a door that hung open, revealing shelves and shelves of bolts of cloth, rolls of leather, and metal plates of various kinds.

I tensed up. "Is that really necessary?" I asked. "Are you going to make us dragon-sized coats or something?"

"Our dragon partners do have dress uniforms," said Leo. "But more importantly, you will need armour and a saddle, which can't simply be made to fit all sizes of dragon. And then, we will be going to your initiation right after this, and you will need to be a dragon for that process."

I sighed. "Right," I muttered, and went into the room to change first. Thankfully, it was the same as last time. A few minutes of discomfort powerful enough to floor me but not strong enough to be painful as my body warped and twisted, then it was over. I gasped for air through my bone-dry mouth, got to all fours, gathered up my clothes, and exited back into the workshop.

Three of those stoneware pitchers the other dragons had had in the refectory had magically appeared in the workshop by the time I entered, which was enough to make me question whether the transformation was actually only a couple minutes, or if the discomfort of the process took up so much room in my mind that I couldn't correctly guess how much time had passed. Either way, I took the water, drinking the same way as the other dragons: holding the neck of the pitcher between my teeth and tilting my head back.

The workers took my measurements again while Arthur went into the storage closet and changed. I could hear gasps that sounded pained coming from behind the closed door. Even though I'd changed myself twice now and seen Arthur after he went through the process, the sounds still made me anxious. I couldn't shake the idea that he was being tortured.

I was done by the time he came out and drained another pitcher, then Griffin went in. Several minutes later, they came out. I hadn't entirely been sure of what to expect, but they looked nothing like the slight and frail human they had been only fifteen minutes before. They were still fairly small, maybe a half foot shorter than me, but they were powerfully-built, especially their rear talons, which were longer and seemed more capable of grasping than mine, Arthur's, or Brand's. Their scales were mostly a dark scarlet, each one ridged down the middle with a curved spike tipped with pale orange protruding from it. Their wings were small and stubby with swirling patterns of dark grey on the undersides, and the last digit of the "fingers" that made up the wing was detached from the membrane, sporting a thickly-armoured blade-like outer edge. They had a tapering snout giving their face a triangular shape, with a pair of long, parallel bladed horns jutting straight up and forwards from above their eyes, and three pairs of slits going down the sides of their neck. Their tail was long and wiry compared to the rest of their body, with a set of three-pronged armoured pincers at the tip.

A low rumbling laugh came from Arthur. «Fearsome!» he said.

Griffin reached up to anxiously scratch behind their ear, a motion that must have been made of habit but which they stopped immediately when they touched their spiky scales. «I don't know about that,» they said, their voice the exact same shaky, nervous tone as their human one, but nearly an octave deeper. «But thanks. I think.»

Griffin's and Brand's measurements seemed like they were over in a flash. I laid down on the floor, idly fidgeting and rolling the notion of the coming "initiation" over in my head again and again. There wasn't anything substantial to think about; we didn't know anything about what would be done. But the insistence that this was the point of no return from both Cynthia and Leo pushed my mind into a constant cycle of dread, repeating the same 'what-ifs' until I felt a weight on my shoulder.

"Nervous?" Grace whispered in my ear.

«Just a little,» I whispered back. «I'll be fine. We'll make it through this.»

Grace grinned and put her arm around my neck. "Damn right we will. We've got this, don't you worry about that."

As much as I appreciated the reassurance, it didn't help much. Once the tailors were done with the other two dragons, they went to their desk to start writing things down and drawing them out, while Leo exited the workshop and gestured for the rest of us to follow. We left the armoury behind, going back across the courtyards and into the keep. We stopped in a small common area, just before the door that led to the tower where Cynthia's office and Alvhir's laboratory were.

Leo stood in front of the door and turned back to face all of us at once. His face was stony and cold. "You are about to undergo the rites of initiation into the dragoon corps," he said, his words calm and flat. "You and your chosen partner will be administered alchemical treatments and participate in the Rite of Bonding to become magically tied to one another. Once again, this is not a bond that you can break, and these treatments will change you for the rest of your life. If you have any reservations, any misgivings about committing yourself to the corps, this is your final chance to leave."

No one spoke up. Grace and I shared a glance, then a determined nod. It didn't help to close the pit that I felt in my stomach, but it at least kept me from letting my fear take over and bolting.

"Very well," said Leo. "Grace and Belfry Lawcrest. Please follow me."

We obliged. He led us up past the laboratory and the office, all the way up to that open entrance to the roof. The roof of the tower was exactly as barren as I would have expected the top of a defensive tower to be, but right then, it was host to an unnerving scene. A wide circle covered much of the floor space, drawn in bright red quickblood and filled with rows of runic symbols, more circles, triangles, and squares, and criss-crossing lines connecting everything together. Outside the circle were several rolling tables covered in alchemical and medical instruments. I saw syringes, as well as a number of jars containing fluids of an array of intense colours, from blood-red to ocean-blue to verdant-green. Two of the tables held racks, upon which sat empty glass vessels with wide lids and openings on the bottom connected to long silver-thread tubes, just like the devices I had seen in the hospital at the monastery.

Cynthia stood ready in her dress uniform opposite the circle from the stairs, her hands behind her back. Beside her, Alvhir was busy giving a last-minute inspection of the tools and reagents.

"Grace and Belfry Lawcrest," she said, her voice as flat and hard as Leo's had become. "You have come to be initiated into the Dragoon Corps. For taking up this burden of responsibility, the world owes you its thanks. Please, step forward and sit in the inner circles here."

We followed her instructions, gingerly stepping over the lines of blood on the ground to rest inside one of the pairs of circles within the ritual area. My heart pounded, and I heard blood roaring through my ears.

"Are you ready to take the solemn vows of knighthood?" asked Cynthia.

"I am," said Grace.

«So am I,» I agreed.

Alvhir approached, pulling the racks holding the jars with tubes forward closer to us. He held up one end of the tube, where I could see it taper into a thin metal needle, just like the ones on the syringes. Carefully, slowly, he knelt beside me and pushed the needle into a tiny gap between the scales of my shoulder. I grit my teeth at the piercing pain before he did the same for Grace, inserting the tube into her upper arm.

"Alvhir, you may begin the rite," said Cynthia, before she turned her attention back to us. "Repeat after me: This solemn oath I make…."

Alvhir knelt over the outer circle and held up a piece of firesteel, striking it gently over the blood until a small flame caught and rapidly spread around the circle. All the lines, runes, and shapes within caught fire, burning brightly with an intense flame tinged with a deep and sanguine red. I pulled my tail back away from the flaming edge of the circle I sat in.

"This solemn oath I make…" Grace and I repeated.

"From this day forth, I shall be a knight of the corps…" Cynthia continued. Alvhir drew a measure of liquid and placed them into the jars attached to us. The blue substance trickled down the tube and into my body. I had to fight to keep from snarling at the pain that erupted through me as soon as the liquid touched my veins. It felt like boiling iron mixed with crushed, glacial ice had replaced my blood.

A nebulous, formless thought drifted out of the depths of my mind, screaming to get this stuff out of me, that it was going to make me different, imperfect. I unconsciously reached one hand towards where the needle rested in my shoulder, before I clamped down on those traitorous thoughts and pressed my hand to my chest, over my heart, instead. I was already imperfect. Nothing could be worse than what had already been done to me.

"From this day forth, I shall be a knight of the corps," we repeated through strained, gritted teeth.

"I shall live as a beacon of righteousness," said Cynthia, her voice growing louder.

"I shall live as a beacon of righteousness!" Grace roared.

«…as a beacon of righteousness…» I echoed, trying desperately to fight through the hazy cloud of pain, rage, and disgust at this ritual.

Alvhir put more compounds in the jars that were slowly emptying themselves as the flames around us grew brighter. Apparently satisfied with their contents, he stepped through the growing walls of flame to directly administer more to us with syringes. My body had gone numb with pain, so I didn't even notice every new sensation of immolation and freezing and dissolving that was introduced.

"I shall defend the innocent and destroy the wicked!" shouted Cynthia.

"I shall defend the innocent and destroy the wicked!" Grace shouted back.

I didn't respond, only mumbling a series of grunts and growls. I couldn't think. I could hardly see, so I shut my eyes. I dug my claws into my scales to keep my hand still and away from the needle.

"I shall be bound to my knightly partner, as One in life and in death," said Cynthia.

Someone grabbed my hand and tried to pull it away from my chest. It's hurting me! The thought rocketed through my head, the only one I could make out. I had the urge to tear whoever it was apart with my claws and teeth. I might have acted on it too, if the numbing of my body hadn't progressed to near paralysis as my muscles locked up. The best I could do was twitch my finger to ineffectually drag my claw up their arm. Something pulled itself across the soft and small scales of my palm, and then my arm was pulled away and put into the grip of someone else, holding my hand tight enough to hurt.

The moment our hands met, I felt a bolt of painless lightning run through me. The shock blasted away the haze of fear and rage, and the world resolved into sharp focus. It was Grace. I had turned, and was holding hands with Grace. My palm bled, as did hers, our blood mixing together as we met each other's eye.

"As One in life…" she began.

«…and in death,» I finished. I could feel her resolve bolstering mine, and whatever intrusive emotions had been dredged up from the depths of my mind were banished back into the abyss.

Cynthia didn't give any more instructions, only stood back and watched as Alvhir delivered the final reagents to us. Grace and I held our grip on each other.

"Belfry…" Grace choked out through the agony. "I love you. I'm glad you're the one with me now."

«I love you too…sister…» I whispered. «I will always…be right…by your side….»

Tears streamed freely from Grace's eyes. I would have been crying too if I could.

The energy flowing through and between us pulsed, and crescendoed higher and higher as the flames matched it, reaching up into the sky. Then, with a snap that could have shaken the mountains from their roots, the fire all swirled up into a vortex above us, syphoning the flames from the blood into one single point before vanishing in an instant. The energy vanished with them, and both of us fell away from each other, collapsing to our sides on the ground.

Like the act flipped a switch in my brain, I was gone, swallowed up by unconsciousness.

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