Song of the Dragoons

We buried Juniper by the morning, and spent the rest of the night sitting by her grave in the garden. It was makeshift and small, but it felt right for her. I had wanted to add so much to the post that Grace got for the marker, but in the end, my claws were imperfect tools for carving, and all I could write was her name, which looked like a label for the plant just behind her. Grace said that if Juniper had had a concept of writing, all she would want to be written is that she was well-loved and all-loving.

I almost broke down at the phrasing of that alone. It took a long, long time for every aspect of this to set into the niches in my mind where it burned like acid in my brain. She was the only one who had never abandoned me, really. She had stayed even after taking the sheep away during the fire, she had stayed after Grace left, she had stayed when I got into banditry, and she even stayed when I transformed into a dragon and no one but her would be able to recognise me on sight. She didn't care what I was doing, what I looked like, or who I was; all she wanted to do was be beside me and love me.

Those thoughts wore a deep rut in my mind by the time morning came, each repetition striking me again with a new wave of sorrow. I couldn't think of anything else. Only how much I already missed her, and how much more I would come to in the days ahead. Even Grace felt cold and distant to me now.

I was exhausted by the time the rest of the castle began waking. My emotions didn't feel like they could handle any more, and my body was low on energy without any sleep. Still, I had enough to notice the hurried-looking man arrive at the gates, a bulging satchel slung over his shoulder and a restless look on his face. I quietly whispered something about how we couldn't stay here forever and had business we needed to attend to. Grace agreed, and left the gravesite right after I did, looking back on it hesitantly before turning resolutely away and heading towards the residence.

I approached the new guest. He was obviously a courier; the items in his satchel were all letters wrapped in envelopes. Most of them were stamped with a fancy wax seal, even. I stopped myself from giving a tired "What?" and instead opted to cloak my emotion in formality.

«Can I help you?» I asked, my voice wavering more than I wanted.

The courier nodded and dug into his letter satchel. "Yes, I think so," he said. "You're with the dragoon knights here, right?"

«I am,» I confirmed

"This letter was sent to you on yesterday morning, sir," he said. He handed over an envelope with a familiar wax seal on it that I could now recognise as meaning:

L A K E

"It's from Lynnmore College, sir," the courier continued. "They said it was urgent, but there were some unforeseen complications in the city and in the woods, so I apologise for the lateness."

«I understand,» I said, gently taking the letter. «Times have been…difficult. Thank you.»

The courier hefted his pack. "Looks like that's it. I've got to go, more deliveries to make. Have a good day." He hurried away.

I gingerly turned the paper envelope over in my hand, careful not to cut it accidentally. It was too small for me in this form, but I managed to fit the tip of my claw underneath the wax seal and peel it off, before taking out a surprisingly small slip from inside. It wasn't anywhere near the size of a full letter. All it said on one side was, in plain handwriting:

We have discovered the location of the Pure Serpent. Return after dusk as soon as you are able.

It was a confusing day of emotion, but I at least felt a little bit of hope reading that. They had done it, and right when we needed it, too. Maybe the Pure Serpent, once it had been cured, could even help us with Arthur's condition, since it was a powerful spirit and the affliction had been caused by an event in the realm of spirits.

After dusk, though…why? Simply out of a desire for privacy? Or maybe we needed it to be night in order to get to where it was. Emrys had said that some crossings into the realm of spirits required certain conditions to be met, maybe wherever the serpent was, we could only get to it at night.

Whatever the reason, I was sure we'd find out when we got to the college. I sent Grace the message.

«The scholars found the Serpent,» I said. «We're going at sunset tonight. I should be up to fly at this point, so we can get there fast.»

«Good,» she said. «That's great, even. I'll go tell the others.»

A ways behind me, I heard her running through the grass towards the residence. I let out a long sigh, setting the letter and envelope down on the wall beside the gate. I felt tired. I had been up most of last night, but it wasn't necessarily a physical exhaustion that I felt. It was felt more in the soul. Juni…it was hard to think about. Her…passing…it felt like there had been some stabilising force that had been holding so much of the weight off me that was now gone. Before I felt like I was being crushed under the pressure—now it seemed like I had been killed by it. I felt hollow, with the happiness that reading that letter brought me seeming so distant and muted already.

Since Grace was doing the work of telling the flight, I decided to go on a walk. Maybe looking at some greenery would help clear my head.

I went down the hill and over the dry castle moat, into the woods that cloaked the hills around our little home. I had never thought too deeply about the wilderness here. Every time we'd left, we'd either flown very far away, or we'd walked down the main road, swiftly out of the woods and into farmland. There was less undergrowth than I'd expected, allowing me to walk under the trees without difficulty or having to clear away low bushes and thorns. The trees had begun to change colour by now, with fiery yellows and oranges just beginning to seep into the green canopy, and a few dry leaves littering the ground at my feet, crunching under every other step. Once the castle was out of sight, hidden by the forest, the whole scene felt very…tranquil.

I stopped at the top of a hill, where a break in the trees allowed me to look out over the farmlands below. The Juniper Hills kept going quite a ways to the north before they were choked by the tangled Witchweald and the hinterlands beyond it. I could see the broad Saryonne River running through it all, feeding the festering wilds as much as it fed the vineyards and wheat fields.

I decided to lay down there for a while, just watching the clouds roll in and the glistening water turn to a matte blue-grey when the light was blotted out. I saw people coming out of their homes, moving to tend their crops, inspect the grapes, and weed out any rot. I saw a few heading into the wilderness, probably to hunt game. It was a beautiful sight, a collection of many lives being lived, people who depended on us for safety, who had dreams of their own that were our duty to protect. It was humbling, and inspiring, just like the epiphany I had in the ruins of the cathedral. And yet…

…it still all felt so numb.

I laid there for a long time, fighting off most of the thoughts gnawing at the edges of my mind, and trying my best to think of nothing, before I heard twigs snapping and leaves crunching behind me. I knew it was probably a member of the flight, but I didn't have it in me to care right then. If it was a bear, so be it.

Thankfully it wasn't. It was Brand. She walked next to me, gazing out on the same scene I saw, and gently laid down a few feet away. She looked uncharacteristically wistful.

"I'm sorry," she said softly.

«For?» I asked, not feeling up to piecing together Draconic right now.

"Your dog," said Brand. "Grace told us all."

I let out a long breath. «I knew it was coming,» I said. «She's old. She…was old.»

"A fall can only be softened so much," said Brand. "The pain is real regardless."

«I should really be able to pull myself together better than this,» I hissed, anger rising. It was a guilty anger, directed firmly at myself. I was disappointed. «We're knights, knights on an assignment. Maybe I just didn't prepare myself well enough. Or maybe I'm just not cut out for the hard parts of this job….»

"You speak in…" she said a word I didn't recognise, then thought for a moment before repeating, "…as though the world is so simple."

«It's not simple,» I argued. «The solution is, though. Probably. This shouldn't have caught me the way it did. I got hit with a gut punch, and I let myself get knocked over by it. That's my fault. I should be sturdier than that, especially as captain. If it's that easy to get me to fold, I'm not much other than a liability.»

I realised after I said it that I was still failing. Juniper is gone, and all I'm doing is making this conversation a whining session about how much of a failure I am. Stupid! I should be thinking about her, not me!

"I do not think reacting with emotion is wrong," said Brand.

I snorted. «Aren't you the one who's always talking about pushing our emotions back if it means keeping the Fiend contained? Not to mention how your go-to strategy is knocking things over with your head.»

Brand winced. I felt even worse at that.

"I…have been thinking," she said. "I am scared by what has happened to Arthur, and what it means about the Fiend. I am scared that I might have been wrong. I am scared that I have caused hurt for no reason. I do not think your emotion is evil, and I…I am no stranger to loss. Neither is the rest of our flight."

«She was—» I started, and abruptly stopped. I had been about to say more about how I shouldn't be this upset over it, because Juniper had been…well, she was "only a dog", it wasn't as bad as losing my sister or Mr. Lawcrest. But then I just felt guilty all over again for thinking about her like that, and as much as I tried, I couldn't square my guilt at feeling so upset over the situation with how important Juniper was to me.

"She was a companion," said Brand. "I have never had a pet, but I understand how much they can mean to you. I understand too that she reminded you of past days."

I felt my breath catch. I had been dancing around that thought since last night, but now that she had said it, I knew it was true. Maybe that was why I felt so…disconnected. Without Juniper, there wasn't much left of those sisters living on a mountainside, was there?

"If I had an item that reminded me of when I was happy with my family before I came to be a dragoon, I would be terribly upset if it was destroyed, and I think that it would be much worse if it was the death of a being I loved more than simply as a memory," she continued. "You can be upset now. There is no reason not to grieve."

I felt the sobs coming back, and had to stifle a wry, inappropriate laugh. «When did you get so introspective?»

"I spend much of my time thinking," said Brand. "When it is hard to speak, I think to myself alone. I have a lot of practise contemplating things that are painful or uncomfortable. It is never pleasant, even to think about. I think often about whether there was a way I could have saved my mother, or kept her from killing my siblings. Perhaps there was, and perhaps not. It is hard not to be consumed by thinking that way, and I have been forced to learn that discipline."

Her sudden reveal was sobering, and I bit my tongue to keep myself from any more laughter. «…Oh,» was all I thought to say. «I'm so sorry, I….»

"You have no fault," said Brand. "It was years ago. I am not trying to make you feel sorry. I was only trying to answer your question, and to tell you that you will not find any hope in wondering about the past, and blaming yourself for the present."

«Where did you find hope?»

She let out a long sigh. "I will tell you when I do."

«Oh.»

I stared awkwardly ahead at that, trying not to meet Brand's eyes. She said that she wasn't trying to make me feel worse, but that comment definitely didn't make me feel any better. She broke out of her melancholic stupor after a minute.

"You should strive for more than me, though," she continued. "I think that I am a bearer of so many scars, it has made it hard to feel."

«If you know that, how come you can't work around it?» I asked.

"There is a big difference between knowing the way to the answer, and actually following it," said Brand. "If I were blinded with a cloth, and someone put a stone before me and told me it was blue, I might know that it is blue, but I still can not see it until I remove the cloth." She gave me a friendly nudge with her wing. "I think you might be blinded as well. I can hear how you hurt. You have an unnatural aversion to flames for a dragon, and you cling to your sister as though she would die if she left your sight."

I shuddered. I wanted to argue with her, but I couldn't. It felt like it would be a lie to do so. «It's not like I was born a dragon,» I grumbled, taking the one meagre truth that I could.

Brand stared at me for a long time before she spoke again. "I understand your fears. I can not feel it with you, but I understand it. It will be difficult to learn to see again. This pain you have gone through today will not help. But I think that if Juniper, your dog, could speak to you right now, she would want you to see."

«I don't want to throw anything away,» I said.

"Moving on does not mean throwing away," said Brand. "We grow with our scars, not over them."

She stood, and turned back towards the castle. "I need to return and help the others prepare. I do not think finding the Serpent will be an easy challenge tonight. I think that they will all understand if you need more time here, though."

I took a moment before I stood too. «No, I'm coming,» I said. «I should help, as flight captain.»

Brand didn't smile, but I did sense a little extra warmth in her eyes. "For all that it is worth, I think that you are doing well in your role, captain," she said, before leading the way down the hill and back home.

I waited a too long there on the hill, mulling over what she said before following. I felt that I had dealt with the things troubling me as best I could, but Juniper's passing was dredging up a lot of things that bolstered Brand's point. I couldn't entirely distract myself from the grief. I could tell it would keep coming back, but I let it out now before our mission began. Like I said to Brand, I had a responsibility to the flight. I couldn't afford to be distracted tonight.

Sunset was just beginning when we arrived back at the castle, my chest a little sore from unsteady sobbing, but my wings feeling well enough to fly, which was the important part. The others were gathered in the courtyard, readying their saddles and checking their weapons. Everyone including Arthur, sat on Griffin's back.

I narrowed my eyes at him. «Why is he here? He's not coming.»

"Yes, I am," said Arthur.

Rosalie gave him a tired look before turning to me. "That's what I said. But they didn't listen."

"I listened, Rosa," said Grace. "It's starting to feel like you didn't listen to us."

"You didn't say anything convincing," Growled Rosalie.

Grace seemed actually hurt by that, and looked to me. "I'll say the same things we told her. First, he can't stay here alone. Even if we let Kyrie deal with him, they have other people to assist, and probably wouldn't be able to help with this condition much anyway if things suddenly go wrong while we're away."

«I doubt we'd be able to treat him any better,» I said.

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"But at least we have the full context," argued Grace. "And he will need to be there if we want to ask the scholars or the Serpent for any help. Anyway, second, if the worst happens and the castle gets attacked, he's defenseless right now. At the very least, if he's with us, he should be safe. Last…he demanded to come, and he was very insistent that even if we left him here, he'd try to come anyway. I don't think it's worth risking whatever he'd commit to doing on that front. He should be relatively safe where we're going, and Griffin can carry him the whole time without making anything harder on themself."

«He's, uh, very light now,» they added, giving Arthur a sympathetic glance.

Arthur nodded at Grace's explanation. "I have to be there," he said. "I have a terrible feeling about what will happen if I'm not."

«Gut feelings from someone as unwell as him aren't a convincing argument,» I said. «But….»

I hesitated. I didn't think he should come. The castle being breached while we were gone was a disaster scenario, but it would be one no matter what. And he was too weak to get himself into much danger if we left him in one of our bedrooms. He could barely crawl, and even now, he had to have Griffin's sky lines strapped directly to his arms to keep him from falling out of the saddle. He wouldn't be able to get out of a room if the door was closed, much less follow us all the way to the college.

But I did trust Grace. And she made a fair point about his condition worsening, and about the scholars. That had been part of the reason we were interested in going earlier today.

«…fine,» I finished. «He can come. Hopefully Dulin can help.»

"I don't need help…" Arthur mumbled, by now his usual protest.

«Griffin,» I said, ignoring Arthur's complaint. «If things go sideways, your main goal is to protect Arthur. Understood?»

«Yes, of course,» they said.

«Good. Rosalie, you're with Brand. Let's get in the air.»

Rosalie clearly wanted to keep the argument up, but a sharp look from Grace made her keep her silence, and get on Brand's saddle behind Yura. We took off from the yard, and angled northeast towards the lake.

The sun soon set, and the moons were out in full brightness, illuminating the land in silver with a greenish hue lent by Styn. The mixed omens of each moon clouded my head with worry as we approached. The last time they had both been full was on that fateful day when I found treasure buried in our pasture….

The lake soon came into view. Its surface was shining with Carin's bright white light, but every few seconds, when the wind blew and stirred up ripples on its surface, the image shifted, and it flashed blood red before turning back to the real colours of the night. I shivered, wondering what could lie beneath.

What was even more disturbing, though, was the light emanating from the college. An amber-orange glow emanated from the entire enclosed campus, its source hidden beneath leaning tree cover, although I could see a particularly bright shine coming through the window on the upper domed observatory in the main hall. The light was too bright for me to see its source, though.

"Oh, no," I heard Grace murmur. "This can't be good."

«Stay alert,» I said to the whole flight. «Something's clearly happened here, and I doubt it was something good.»

We swooped down outside the gate, which had been partly broken off its hinges. The college motto above the gate was illegible, almost looking like the wrought iron had been melted and dripped down the spiky bars of the fence. There was a foul odour in the air, reminiscent of the scent that permeated the research hall on our first visit, but much stronger, with the almost cinnamon-like quality burning my nose with every inhale. It was so strong it almost hid the smell of burnt blood beneath it.

"Burnt blood and melted metal," said Emrys. "This place was attacked—by pyromancers."

«Do you think the vicar was behind it?» asked Griffin.

«Almost certainly,» I said. «Maybe he wanted something they have for his ritual, or maybe he just wanted them out of the way. If his soldiers are still here, they'll be hostile to us. Keep on guard.»

Slowly, I led the way inside. Most of the buildings had their curtains closed, but I could see a little bit of that amber light leaking out from gaps between the threads. The flora that had previously grown in the place's strange cemetery had grown out of control, with thick stalks covered in sparse leaves rising up out of a tangle of brush to produce glowing orange flowers that looked towards the heavens, at least until we walked by. When we drew near, the flowers shivered and bent down so that the blooms were facing directly towards us, as though they had some level of intellect and wanted to observe. I could see now that they were covered in slugs and snails, each of them also bearing that amber colouration.

«What are these things?» Griffin hissed quietly.

"Unnatural," said Emrys. "Magic, but…I don't think they're burning blood. Maybe they don't even use vis. They look nothing like what I'm used to."

«Are they dangerous?» I asked.

Emrys shrugged. "Impossible to tell yet."

We kept walking. I got the sense we were being watched, not just by the weird flowers, but from everywhere. There were more strange objects littered haphazardly around the campus—quivering lumps of what looked like flesh with wrinkles like a brain and flowers growing from their seams, orange mould that covered the south wall of one of the residential halls, which kept illuminating parts of itself in unrecognisable runic patterns, and lampposts where the metal had been transmuted into a wood-like substance and the light at the top had sprouted wilted mushrooms directly out of the glass.

The worst was when I looked up and spotted an open window. The orange glow from inside harshly lit a figure that didn't seem exactly humanoid, with big, round eyes that simply looked like solid amber lights. It had arm-like appendages outstretched, almost seeming to reach directly through the glass from certain angles, like it was expecting an embrace. Despite all the feeling of being observed, that figure wasn't looking at us, but instead up at the stars.

There were signs of conflict, too. Patches of burned grass and scorch marks on the side of buildings were the first things we saw, but then when we got to the plaza before the lake, where the entrance to the research hall was. In the centre, around the lamppost, were at least six piled corpses of deacons. All of them were covered in patches of mould already decomposing their weird flesh, with ghastly gastropods lurking wherever the mould didn't, sliding out of hollow eye sockets and mouths as we approached. The pile twitched, the corpse's muscles still moving their fingers, eyelids, and lips like they were barely conscious, despite their lethal wounds. From the pile sprouted a woody stalk, its roots embedded in the chests of each of the deacons, and its branches wrapped tightly around the lamppost. From the top blossomed a large flower, slightly different in shape to the lily-like ones we had already seen in the yards. This one more resembled a sunflower, with silvery-blue streaks running along the edges of its amber petals. It stretched sideways to face the night sky, bending the post as it did.

"Saints above…" Grace breathed at the sight. "Did the scholars do this to them?"

«Who else could have?» I said, my own voice shaking. The visage of the flower made me queasy just to look at.

«I hope they aren't still alive,» said Griffin.

«I doubt they were alive to begin with,» I assured them. «I hope that Dulin is still alive, or we've come all this way for nothing.»

We made to skirt the edge of the buildings for the door, but as soon as we got closer, the flower shivered and shifted. Its head twisted around to face us. Instead of florets filling the face of the sunflower, it had wriggling, writhing, slimy tendrils that tasted the air in front of it. At the very centre was a hard-looking knot that shone like a bullseye lantern on my face. I felt an immediate pressure on my mind when the light touched me, like what I had felt beneath the Mare Nocturn, only not nearly as strong. There was a gurgling noise that sounded from its stalk, and then its roots shifted. The pile of corpses unwound itself into four foot-like root endings as the plant animated.

I made the snap decision to consider it a threat. The deacons had attacked this place with fire, maybe that would work?

I tried to summon a little flame, but the pressure was strong enough to hold the Fiend back and keep the fire down. The light brightened, and then with a ting like a light metal chime, a pulse of solid amber light shot through the air from the flower's centre and pierced through my thigh. I gasped in pain and stumbled. It felt like I had been shot and burned at the same time. I felt the pain in my bones immediately, and knew that something was broken again.

Grace and the other humans started jumping from their seats, but Griffin acted first. As the light shot out, their eyes went wide, and the vents on their neck opened and spat sparks. The scent of ozone briefly covered the rotten spicy smell, and a bolt of violet lightning shot from their mouth. The electricity arced all throughout the flower in an instant, and it had enough time to jerk upright and let out a keening wail before the flower head exploded, shooting pieces of fleshy wood and orange petals everywhere. The rest of the plant immediately went limp, collapsing on the ground, twitching from the lingering electricity.

They didn't revel in their victory at all. «What was that!?» they shouted, panic filling every ounce of their voice as they danced backward away from the eerily writhing plant and still-moving corpses. «What in the Pits was that!?»

I grunted, looking back at the hole in my leg. I could the sharp, sickening pain of badly injured bone, and when I lifted my leg to check the other side, there was an identical hole that even matched up with a deep pit in the paving stones underneath me. Grace slid off my back and immediately grabbed the bandages from our bag to start binding the wound.

"Gideon's breath, did that go straight through?" she mumbled.

«All the way,» I said. «It took some of my bone with it. It just…made my flesh evaporate.»

«What was that?» Griffin kept repeating. «What was that? What was it?»

"Confirmation of what I said before," said Emrys. "That couldn't have been vis magic. But it was so obviously magic. What are these scholars studying here?"

«The heavens, I think,» I said, remembering some of the observational equipment I saw in the hall before. «And maybe the realm of spirits. But you're right, neither of those things seem capable of creating something like that.»

"Whatever it was, lightning worked," said Ingo. "Griffin, be ready to do that again if we see another."

Griffin hesitantly nodded. Grace stood up, done binding my wound. "It should stem the bleeding, but it's more than just bleeding."

I lightly put my foot down, but could hardly bear to put any weight on it because of the pain. I hissed. «I'll be limping. I can't fight like this, the rest of you will need to handle it.»

Yura nodded. "That's why we're a team," he said. "Let's press on. If anyone can give us answers, it would be the provost."

I nodded, and allowed him and Brand to push open the door to the hall first. He glanced around and tilted his hat down before gesturing for the rest of us to follow.

I could see what was bothering him as soon as I came in. There were more corpses inside. A few were more deacons, their bodies full of holes or covered in strange orange mould-like slime. The rest were clearly students, still wearing their scholarly robes. They had been killed by fire and shot, bits of gore splattered across the room from messy shots to the head or chest, and they had scorch marks everywhere. There were at least eight littering the first floor, and I could smell even more on the second.

There was only one person in the room still moving: a student, bent over a table where one of their fellows laid, half of the dead one's torso charred black. They were leaning over the corpse, their head moving up and down like they were crying. I was shocked they were still alive, since they had a long thrusting sword embedded in their chest up to the hilt, the blade sticking over a foot out of their back.

"Saints have mercy…" whispered Emrys. "They've all been butchered."

«Not all,» I said, pointing to the living scholar. At the sound of our voices, they stopped, and stood. They hadn't been crying over their fallen friend. They had been scraping all the char away from their body, leaving exposed, fresh skin and muscle behind. They held the implement they had been using, a long surgical knife that clearly wasn't intended for this purpose, and turned towards us.

When I saw them, I got an inkling of how they were still alive. Another sunflower-like plant was attached to their chest, its roots wrapping around the site where the sword had impaled them and burrowing into their skin. The flower head, a little less unnerving than the one we had killed in the plaza, turned to face the same direction as the student's face. Apart from the flower, they also had completely hollow eye sockets, save for a faint orange glow that burned like a distant ember within them. I could sense that they saw me, though I don't know if that was an effect of the light or the flower.

"Guests…" they said, their voice raw and painful. "You are different than them. You've been here before."

«We have,» I said. «We're here in peace. What…what happened here?»

"Haah…" the student drew a long, raspy breath. "An attack. The Church…it hates our shining light. It hates our god. They brought fire and powder, to cleanse what's already clean. They meant to destroy radiance…."

«Your god?»

"The outcast star…the amber glow of fate…the Thing That Drowned In The River…." They drew another breath, and the flower's stalk stretched to let the bloom come closer to my face. I felt cold air wash over me as it drew near, and shuddered at the sensation. "It lies below, it gives us our radiance, and they hate it, they hate it, oh they hate the truth that it tells us. But when we let the radiance forth from its cage, they could not bear its light. How foolish we were; we could have seen greatness far sooner, if only we had culled our doubts and fear!"

I glanced at Emrys, only to get a horrified but clueless look back. So all of us were in the dark. At least I wasn't just forgetting something important that would give any of this some meaning. We would surely need to come back to the college once all this was done. This "radiance"…it couldn't be good, but Barbosa was more of a threat in the here and now.

«I am sorry that you have lost so much,» I said. «We need the help of your provost to keep us from losing many people too. Can you tell us where he is?»

The flower recoiled. "He is observing. He must not be disturbed."

I saw their grip tighten on their knife. I backed up to let Ingo and Griffin come closer. Ingo's hand tightened around his weaponised cane in response, and he dropped a metal bullet into the sling.

«Is he alive?» I asked.

"The Master is alive, and he is seeing," said the student. "He is seeing great things that he will share when he falls. Do not disturb him."

«We need his help,» I said. «We have to see him.»

The student stared into space for a long time, then suddenly lurched forward. "No!" they screamed, loudly enough that some amber-tinged blood flew out of their mouth. "His vision is paramount! Though you are blind, you can be made to see, if only you could—!"

They swung the knife wildly in our direction several times before Ingo's bullet lodged in their skull. Apparently a pierced brain was not something that the flower could keep them alive after, they they fell, writhing just like the others until the flower fell limp and the light in their eye sockets went out.

Ingo sat back down after all the sounds stopped. "Tch," he muttered, anger colouring his usual professional tone. "Fucking zealots."

"They didn't tell us where Dulin is," said Emrys. "Do we really have time to comb this entire place right now? Especially given the apparent danger?"

«They said he was "observing",» I said. «I bet he's at his glyphic lens. Come on, it's just upstairs.»

Just like I had smelled, there was more carnage on the floor above, though thankfully, none of the dead students here were still moving. The ladder leading up to the observatory had been broken off about halfway up, the bottom half leaning over the balcony uselessly. I thought about exploring up there and trying to see what that bright light had been, but it wasn't a priority right now. Instead, I pushed open the door to the viewing balcony outside.

The view of the lake was tranquil in a way that felt dissonant when I could see it at the same time as the corruption that had taken hold of this place. There was no overgrown vegetation up here, save for where Dulin sat on his chair, right in front of the lens. The lens itself was untouched, but if it hadn't been for what I'd seen in the last several minutes, I would have thought Dulin was dead. His body seemed to have been mostly converted into a slimy, fungal mush that spilled out of his robes and fused him to his chair. Where his arms had had fingers before, there were now tangled mycelial strands that reached down to the ground and spread out in a feathery carpet over the balcony. His chair was leaned forward, his face fused to the frame of the lens at the eyes by more of that orange slime and tendrils that wrapped around the metal. Despite his condition, I could see what remained of his back rising and falling as he kept breathing.

The sight was revolting, and I heard the others gasping and gagging in shock and disgust as they laid eyes on him. «He's still alive…» I whispered to the flight before warily stepping forward. Griffin and Ingo stayed at my side, ready to launch an attack if this didn't work out.

«Provost Dulin?» I said.

"Huuuuh…haaaah…." He didn't respond, apart from slightly more laboured breathing.

«It's the Ninth Flight,» I continued. «We got your letter this morning. You said that you knew where the Pure Serpent was?»

"Haaaah…haaaah…."

I only noticed then that part of his throat had dissolved into that slime material. Maybe he couldn't even talk at all. «Is there anything you can tell us?» I pleaded. «It's very important. Please. We can help you if you help us.»

He struggled to get another breath as he lifted his right arm up as much as he could, straining against the fibres that extended from his fingers. The only one that wasn't attached to the floor, his ring finger, lifted slowly and shakily, pointing at the lake.

«In the lake?» I asked. Then my mind clicked. «Is the lake the connection to the place in the realm of spirits where the Serpent is?»

Dulin moved his head in an approximation of a nod.

«How do we enter? Is there a ritual we need to do?»

"Haaah…." A liquid that might have been spittle dripped from Dulin's slack jaw. "Spiral…nine…plunge…" he managed to say.

Spiral, nine, plunge? I thought.

"Spiral downward nine times, then dive in?" said Emrys, and Dulin's head moved like a nod again.

I glanced up at the lake, so placid and calm in between flashes of the blood-red moon. «We can do that,» I said. «Thank you so much for your help. I…I can see that your college has been overwhelmed. Is there anything we can do to help you before we go and rescue the Serpent?»

Dulin nodded, and then rasped, "Kill…us…."

I felt my stomach drop at the request, but I could see why he made it in his position. I wondered if there was a cure to whatever this "radiance" was that was doing this to him, but there was no way that the misery he would be in waiting for us to find it would be worth whatever years he had left when we did. I stepped back, and nodded to Griffin.

«Do it,» I ordered.

Griffin hesitated, glancing between Dulin and me. «Are you sure? Maybe I…we could….»

«We can't,» I insisted. «Not soon enough for it to matter. He made the request. Do it, please.»

I could see the sorrow in their eyes, but they did as asked. Sparks arced in their mouth before another burst of lightning lanced through Dulin. Part of the slime was blown away, spattering across the balcony, and the rest of his body melted into steaming sludge, the mycelial carpet dissolving and his face coming away from the lens. The scent was truly the worst I had ever smelled, like burning rotten fish, spices, and the sharpness of ozone.

"Eugh," said Emrys. "How vile. May the Great Ones have mercy on their souls."

«At least we got our answer,» I said. «Spiral nine times. We don't even need to go get any special materials.» I rolled my shoulders, stretching my wings. «Everyone, collect yourselves. We're getting this done now.»

"Now?" repeated Rosalie.

"Yes, this is a good idea," Arthur said. "The ritual, it could start any moment. The Serpent must not be corrupted when it does."

Rosalie bit her lip, but said nothing further. Once the other dragons signalled they were ready, I stepped up onto the railing and leaped off into the air, flying out over the lake, as fast as possible away from that accursed campus. The others were right on my tail as we flew high over the vast lake.

I looked down at the water, taking one last moment to marvel at it before I honed in on a spot near the centre, where it would surely be deepest, and where we would be out of sight from Yorving in case the vicar had any magical tricks to try and stop us. «Okay!» I shouted. «Follow exactly behind me!»

I tilted to the left and down, locking my eyes in one position and choosing a gnarled, unique-looking tree on one of the shores to count our spins. The first loop was wide, but I pulled each one after tighter and tighter, as we counted down from nine, to eight, to seven, and on down to one. The last rotation of the spiral was so small that I was basically just spinning in place. Once it was done, I evened out and dove straight down.

The water of the lake wavered, the bright reflections vanishing as it became opaque and greyish. My heart rose into my throat as I dove straight down towards the water. I hoped that the transition between realms would maybe soften the impact I was about to take.

«Hold on!» I shouted to the others before my nose broke the water''s surface.

We plunged into a grey void. Again, the barrier was different. This time, it felt heavy, sticky, like thick mud all around me. I could still feel the other two on my back as I let myself drift downwards. There wasn't any dreaming or sleeping, either. I felt like I had crossing back from the palace, like the world turned upside down, and I was pushed towards the other side by buoyancy instead of gravity. Soft white light illuminated the world above, and soon, we rose above the surface.