The funeral was a short, heartbreaking ceremony. It took place at a large square, atop one of the tallest mountain summits on Ilsorin. All of the Radiant Knights present carried a torch, or channeled the Æther into a living flame in their open palms. The dragons who were not yet Awakened had their foreclaws doused in burning substance, and set alight. All the humans were without helmets, despite the bitter cold. Night had fallen, its soft starlight coalescing with the smaller fires carried by the wake watchers.

Veralla stood closely to Airo, her tail wrapped tightly around his leg. His pose was that of a warrior at parade rest. Although she could sense he felt uneasy about the extent of her contact, he did not object, keeping his bearing poised and respectful. She snuggled even tighter, seeking his reassuring presence in the face of what unfolded before her eyes.

There were no bodies. None of the dead had been recovered from the Revenant ambush. Instead, the living chronicle of each lost Knight was projected for everyone to see, displaying the greatest moments of their lives. The nine Radiant Knights smiled, acted, and dared, reliving their past triumphs as silent specters of cyan-purple light beneath the cold, barren sky of Terra Para. Their names were writ upon the air itself with the power of the Æther:

Knight Lisa Seres

Knight Ithel Yamazaki

Knight Ea Gorog

Knight Nassuu Y

Knight Harold Troybaum

Knight Blaise Zeelen

Knight Zoriak 'Zozzy' R'urgal

Knight Mina

Knight Urien Hywel

Lylana stood before the projections, facing the host of living Knights. Her towering form was stoic and her expression solemn. She raised her flame-enveloped fist and spoke, her clarion voice tinged with sorrow.

"Fellow Knights of the Radiant Order! We have gathered here to give a final farewell to our dear sisters and brothers, who have fallen in their line of sacred duty. They have performed the most noble of sacrifices – they have given their lives to protect others. They have upheld their Pure Vow with honor and love.

"And now, their Way has come to an end. Their immortal souls are ready to take the next journey, beyond the transient reality where our current lives reside. Thus, we return our sisters and brothers, gladly and with love, back to the Great Cosmos. We return them, and celebrate the infinite enlightenment and joy they shall receive in the warm, everpresent embrace of the Fire Eternal. We return them, so they may become One again.

"May the stars always shine upon their souls."

Veralla could not hold the tears anymore, and sobbed. Besides her, Airo reached tentatively to pat her wing. She cried and flung herself at him, hugging him fully, praying silently for him to not repulse her. He did not. He stiffened, tense with coldness for several terrible seconds, then... in wonder, she felt him – slowly, warily, hesitantly – felt him returning her hug.

"Now raise your light, fellow Radiant Knights!" Lylana continued. "Raise your light in honor of those who have fallen! Raise your light in honor of those who live! Raise your light in honor of the Great Cosmos and the Fire Eternal! Raise your light in honor of the entire universe!

"Raise your light, fellow Radiants, and renew your Vow!"

"We vow! We vow to be undying champions! We vow to follow the Celestial Way! We vow to be humble and to be hallowed, and to always carry the love of the Fire Eternal! Thus we vow!" the Knights roared, everyone, human and dragon, lifting their lights, their vow resounding with the power of a hundred throats.

"Master Dei," Lylana said formally, beckoning, "please, step forward, and bless our fallen sisters and brothers."

"I thank you for granting me the honor, Knight Darkovitz," Magus said, holding high a brilliant silvery flame in his robed hand. "However, I cannot do as you wish. I went in exile twenty years ago, and denounced my Radiance. Regrettably, I am part of this Order no more."

"One can't ever truly leave the light of the Fire Eternal," Lylana said, her armored arm still outstretched. "You and Aethernalis taught us that, Master Dei. This is a time of conflict and darkness, a time where the very reality of our existence is in peril. No one is perfect, Master. Even the Lightbringer failed. Every one of us carries the burden of our finitude. So I plead you to come back, and offer your wisdom in service of the Way once more."

Magus did not say anything for a long time. The summit had grown quiet, the Radiant Knights awaiting the response of their former leader. At last, without speaking, the old Knight made several steps forward, his heavy robes flowing around his broad-shouldered frame. He stood so, his back to the gathered host, facing the spectral images of the dead Knights, and lowered the flame in his hand. Veralla held her breath.

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"Be blessed, brave guardians," Magus spoke. "Go now, and rest. Ascend to the stars, and become One with All!"

He flung his flaming hand skyward again. Instantly, the spectral images of the dead Knights vanished, turning into bright beams of golden light. The nine rays shot up into the night sky, becoming shining sparkles among the stars, then winked out for the final time.

Veralla cried again. She was not the only one.

***

That night she pleaded Airo to sleep with him on the bed again, like she had done so long ago in Dragon Retreat when he was injured and nearly killed. Thankfully, he accepted, and Veralla gratefully climbed up, lying down beside him. Soothed by his immediate presence, she managed to fall asleep, although her dreams were troubled.

The following days were dismal and unhappy. Veralla was very upset about the dead Radiant Knights, much more so than she had been about the councilors of Dragon Retreat. She wanted to be strong and tried not to cry anymore, yet she sniffled spontaneously now and again when no one was watching, mostly during meditation.

She visited Nightsong at every opportunity, spending long hours keeping company to the other fledgling. She tried to cheer Nightsong, telling her of all the wonderful things she had learned about the world, about science, about magic, about people, and about other dragons in particular. Nightsong listened to her with the curiosity inherent in every new being, yet she was always in pain. No matter what Veralla did, no matter what she talked about, Nightsong was always in pain. Sometimes, the sick fledgling slept, yet Veralla sensed that even in her sleep she was still hurting. It made Veralla sad witnessing someone experience so much pain without her being able to do anything, and, combined with her sorrow for the dead Knights, it became harder to keep herself cheerful, trying to pass on her happiness to Nightsong day after day.

Kiana was always by Nightsong's side. She never left the fledgling even for a second, caring for her constantly. She was kneeling, or sitting beside the healing pool, petting Nightsong affectionately or soothing her with gentle songs which Veralla had never heard before from her. Kiana often channeled the Æther, her body coruscating with a blue-white nimbus as she funneled some of her life essence into Nightsong. It was a very distressing thing to do, and Kiana always seemed exhausted afterward, and Veralla asked her why she did it.

"Because I must, whippersnapper," she said with a raw voice. "I want to save Nightsong. It's... what I have to do."

Veralla was sure Kiana and Nightsong were destined to be soulkin, and she was very sad Nightsong could die. It would break Kiana's soul, she was sure of that. But if Kiana died... Veralla thought her soul might break, too.

When Nightsong sometimes felt a bit stronger, Kiana fed her with raw meat, which filled Veralla with trepidation. She did not want the whemokos to die, so Nightsong could eat; yet she also did not want Nightsong to die. She tried suggesting pyrolith crystals, but Nightsong was too sick to eat them. So she sat silently during meals, watching the fledgling consume with effort the flesh of others, and wondered miserably if this was what Glawlrhain meant when he said that sometimes there was no way. No way to choose right. No way to choose for all.

No way for everyone to live.

She wanted to go on missions, since Airo no more killed people, yet she felt the need to stay by Nightsong's side. She knew what was to be alone, to be different, and wanted to protect Nightsong from those feelings. Kiana was there too, of course, but she was not a dragon – or rather, she was not a strange dragon, like Veralla was.

So she kept seeing Nightsong, coming to the medical bay after training or lectures. Her contact with others became minimal, save for Glawlrhain, Tehalix, and Lung. She wanted to help a kindred spirit, because Nightsong was different, and, being different herself, Veralla thought she could... she could...

...no...

In truth, after Nightsong hatched, it made Veralla fully understand how unlike she really was compared to the other dragons. Small. Non-flying. Without fire. Scary-looking. 'Like a living shadow', Teyalinar had said. 'She may be a Primordial dragon', Magus had said.

She was all those things. She was different.

That was why she did not want to speak to the others. Despite Lung's warning, the friendly dragons still looked at her with a mixture of pity and puzzled wonder, while Alomar's gang cast acidic glances at her and heckled her when she passed them in the hallways. Strangely, Alomar said or did nothing – as if she had become invisible to him, or because he experienced some inner turmoil himself. Perhaps Nightsong's plight had changed something inside him too.

Veralla's differentness made her feel lonely and sad: the very feelings she was afraid to have. She worried she would always be like that – different, and because of it, always lonely, and always sad.

She feared she would become like Airo.

To her surprise, it was Airo who drove away her fear.

He stayed more often at the stronghold, resting between missions, and he talked with her during the long, depressing nights. His rich, confident voice carried something Veralla had not sensed before: warmth and affection. He spoke softly to her, his grey eyes flickering with life again. Veralla sought closeness, and he did not push her away. It was like Airo had become a different person.

Different, yet better.

Veralla drew strength from this realization, from the warmth in Airo's voice, from the spark of endearment in his hesitant touch, and that strength drove away the shadows of doubt and loneliness from her soul like the dawning light drives away the darkness of the night.

But... why Airo had changed?

Because she never left him.

She never gave up on him. She always was there for him. She had promised herself to make him not feel sad and alone, and to bring happiness to him.

And she had succeeded.

Despite being different, despite being small and powerless, despite feeling sad and lonely herself, she had succeeded. Her desire to help Airo and her willingness to be with him had alighted anew the fire of life in him.

She did not have to feel lonely and sad.

She had Airo, her soulkin!

And if he could find the light again, even when burdened with his endless sadness, then so could do Nightsong, despite her overwhelming sickness and frailty.

So could anyone.

Anyone could find the light, no matter what.

Even Ferrtau could probably do so!

With renewed conviction, Veralla put her head down next to Airo's as they again prepared to rest for the night. She fell into sleep peacefully, determined to keep her spirit high – no matter what.