*Unedited
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𝕳𝖚𝖘𝖇𝖆𝖓𝖉 and wife cut through soldiers like a scythe cutting grain. My talons sweep low, drawing blood, as Aleksander sends out seething waves of suffocating darkness.
The battlefield is strewn with bodies and the Fjerdan soldiers are still surrounding the King, a noose drawing ever tighter despite our best efforts. There's hope still. The Darkling and I are a force none should dare face. We've reduced the enemy's numbers drastically. Ravka will not fall.
My head jerks over to a shape that glides next to me. I spot Tamar atop a khergud - his double metal wings like those of a dragonfly. She nods to me and I follow them as they dive to the ground. Grisha raise their hands to defend themselves from the creatures of their nightmares - the khergud. If not for my steel focus on the battle raging below us, that same fear would soak into my bones.
The khergud are soldiers equipped with metal wings. They were created by the Shu in order to capture Grisha. Rumor has it that they are constructed from the bodies of the dead.
"Stand down!" Tamar yells in Ravkan. "Tolya, tell them to stand down!"
The people on the ground begin to shout at one another.
King Nikolai looks up at them in wonder. "Stand down!" he commands. "They're allies." I know him well enough that I can tell he doesn't quite believe it. "Keep your eyes on the Fjerdans."
As the Fjerdans catch sight of the winged Shu, they open fire. I whirl in the air, adding a layer of night blades to my feathers in order to protect myself and Aleksander. It isn't enough. They found a weak spot.
I feel a searing pain where my wing connects to my body. A piercing cry escapes my beak. Then all I know is the wind. I'm falling.
The impact barely even registers through the haze of agony. I know not if the Squallers eased my descent or if my senses are all focused on the object lodged in me. My eyes are fluttering, my body twitching. Fire burns me.
Suddenly, the torment increases before calming to a dull numbness. Unwillingly, I transform back into my human body. Through blurry eyes, I see Aleksander tossing a large bloody harpoon to the side. He rushes to me and yells for a Healer.
Blackness takes me. It does not last.
A howl filled with anguish awakens me. My eyes flicker first to the Grisha stitching my wound closed then to the source of the sound that stirred me from unconsciousness.
Aleksander's back faces me. Shadows swirl out from him like a hurricane. They lash out at the enemy with such fury. But some of our allies struggle to stay out of the carnage. He's a vision of avenging glory.
If it came down to the world or you, I would not hesitate to set my nichevo'ya on everyone and everything but you.
Nikolai's head emerges from the corner of my eye, "Lana, despite how helpful he's being dealing with the enemy and all, could you please control your monster?"
Even at the brink of what was almost my deathbed, I can't help but quirk a brow and sassily respond, "Forgive me, King of Scars, for almost bleeding to death and not immediately processing the situation. Of course, I should have jumped to my feet to comfort the Darkling the moment my eyes opened."
Through his stress, he's still my Nikolai. "Precisely! Although, what have I taught you about apologies?"
I huff as I drag myself to my feet, "I am not a Queen, Nikolai."
"Debatable," he answers. "Now please, for the love of you, knock some sense back into him before he kills the few of us left. And work your lucky magic, my friend."
'For the love of me'? Oh. How could I forget I'm a Saint?
When I'm stable he pats me on the shoulder, his eyes are warm but filled with sadness, "I'm blessed to be able to call you my friend, Svetlana."
Even surrounded by death, I take the time to reply with all my heart, "And I you, Nikolai."
Then I allow myself one lingering look, one that may be my last, before I rush to Aleksander. The tornado of shadows parted for me but it is only when I am in front of him that they calmed.
His hand reaches out to take my chin in a tender hold.
"My avenging love," I whisper for him alone, "I'm here."
Slate gray eyes flutter closed when I wrap my arms around him. When they open again, he leans down and captures my lips with his. Our bond tells me all I need to know. What use is this world without me? What use is this world without him? When it is our time we will depart in the same way we will spend the rest of our lives: together.
My light soaks into his storm of darkness. Through my gentle command, they expertly weave through our soldiers to strike the enemy.
When our lips separate, our power consolidates to hover around us. I take his hand in mine, "Follow me into the jaws of death?"
He raises one eyebrow, "Ours or theirs."
I match his expression.
Despite watching me almost die, again, a smoky laugh escapes him. His forehead leans on mine, "Lana, I think that I would follow you anywhere."
I sighed into him, "Then let's go. We have a war to win."
Then we carve a path through the fray. Hand in hand. Covered in blood. Surrounded by tendrils of the starry night sky.
We glance toward the sound of rapid explosions, suddenly looking at a wall of fire crawling toward us across the Fjerdan lines. I look up - Fjerdan flyers, dropping bomb after bomb.
Two Ravkan flyers intercept the Fjerdans, breaking their formation, but the enemy reassembles, taking the onslaught of the Ravkan guns head-on. A Fjerdan wing catches fire, and the flyer plummets in a spiral of flame and smoke. It crashes onto the battlefield, plowing through soldiers, striking a tank, and exploding in a yellow ball of fire. Another flyer takes its place in the formation. Any sacrifice for victory.
I attempt to transform but the dull ache in my shoulder turns into agony when I try.
Aleksander and I make eye contact. We nod at one another, already knowing what to do. We act in sync. Our combined power makes me feel unstoppable. Together, we form a giant blade of darkness. It zooms towards the Fjerdan flyers. I lift my free hand and summon a shield of blazing light to surround the Ravkans. As the debris falls, it crushes the enemy, while the heat from my power melts any that land on my shields. We do this over and over again, but the Fjerdans keep coming. They also realize how important it is to neutralize the biggest threat on this battlefield: Aleksander and I.
The troops on the ground swarm us and soon it becomes difficult fending them off as well as take out the flyers.
But a cry pierces the air from behind me, "Protect them with your lives! For Ravka! For all of us!"
Nikolai, Tamar, and Tolya have come to aid us. Soon they have us surrounded by an impenetrable wall of Grisha and soldiers.
So Aleksander and I continue our assault on the bombers.
Hope blossoms in my chest.
Then a roar splits the air. A massive shape tears across the field, between the Fjerdan bombers and us, sending them scattering. Silver lightning crackles through the sky.
"What the -" Tamar begins. But the words die on her tongue.
We all stare at the sky.
We're looking at a dragon.
Zoya. About damn time.
She shoots skyward, whirling in the air, and dives back toward the bombers. The dragon opens her jaws and silver lightning spews from somewhere deep inside her. It crackles through the air, snaring the flyers in current. They burst into flame, dropping from the sky like crumpled insects.
And she has a cooler beast form than me.
Is now really the time for that, moya zvezda?
She has lightning breath.
The dragon lays down a trail of silver lightning, creating a wall of fire, cutting off the Fjerdan retreat. The Fjerdan tanks turn their mighty guns on the dragon but Zoya banks hard to the right, dodging their shells. Again she unleashes her lightning, the current sparking on Fjerda's war machines, melting their gun barrels and sending men diving for safety.
The dragon's vast wings beat the air. A roar thunders across the battlefield. But Zoya just hovers over the Fjerdan forces, ready to pass judgment.
It was at this moment that I realize my gut feeling was right. It is the end and the beginning. The Age of Saints has come. Not with the Darkling or I, but on the wings of a dragon. We paved the path for this moment but our time is over.
The dragon's jaws open and release an angry shriek. In it, I can hear all of Zoya's sadness, her rage, the grief she has endured for every soldier fallen, every friend lost, and the deep loneliness of the life she'd been forced to live. The air seems to come alive, the pressure dropping, lightning gathering.
She is going to kill them all.
But there's more to life than this.
She swivels her scaled neck and lightning bursts across the sky, cracking exclamations that scorch the air and lift the hair on my arms. But the Fjerdans are still standing. Zoya spared them.
I turn to Aleksander but he does not need my guidance.
He kneels in the field and yells, "Sankta!"
My heart warms. He's doing the right thing.
"Sankta Zoya!" Aleksander yells again.
I catch him wink at Nikolai. Always so smug.
"Sankta!" Another voice, wavering with tears.
"Sënje!" This time from the Fjerdan side.
"Sankta Zoya of the Storms!"
One of the drüskelle throws down his gun. "Sënje Zoya daja Kerken- ning!" he cries, crumpling to his knees. "Me jer jonink. Me jer jonink!"
Saint Zoya of the Lightning. Forgive me. Forgive me.
The drüskelle captain strides forward, his pistol raised. Will he kill this kneeling boy? Blow his head open for daring to entertain heathen thoughts within it? If he does, what will happen?
But two Fjerdan soldiers step into the captain's path, seizing his arms and snatching away his pistol. The drüskelle captain shouts, face red, spittle flying from his mouth. Blasphemy, heresy, treason, abomination. All words that have been used against Grisha before. If the Fjerdans had been winning this battle, maybe those charges would have held sway. But these men don't want to die. One by one, the drüskelle go to their knees. Zoya has bought their fealty with mercy.
I look towards the sky and lift my hands. A kaleidoscope of light spills out from the clouds to form a halo around the dragon.
She makes eye contact with me as I yell, "Sankta Zoya of the Wind and Sky. Dragon Queen!"
If dragons can scowl, I'm pretty sure they would look exactly like her right now. My lips form a smug smirk. Now she will know how it feels.
The Starless soon surround my husband and me, praying. The field is full of kneeling soldiers, weeping troops, perplexed Grisha. From the north comes the sound of a trumpet - the Fjerdans sounding the retreat. The Darkling grins at Nikolai as if he'd been the architect of it all.
Stop harassing my friend, Aleksander.
He makes it too easy, my love.
I roll my eyes.
Above us, the dragon flaps her vast wings. The great beast roars and the clouds around her pulse with more of my light. Thunder booms, rolling over the mountains, and lightning forks through the sky so bright that even I almost have to avert my gaze.
But I don't. I watch as my friend flies away.
To my surprise, I feel her distress. The Firebird reminds me of what it felt like to turn back into a human for the first time. It also whispers knowledge to me. She is tied to us all now.
Through the bond I feel - an ember compared to what I share with Aleksander - I send her what I hope to be a calm reassurance. Though you are more, you are still you. Zoya Nazyalensky. You have not lost yourself to the Dragon, you have become one. You know who you are.
I do not receive a response but I have faith in her.
Aleksander rises and grasps my hand again.
Time to go.
I nod and glance at Nikolai. We share another nod. A farewell. Then I follow the Darkling away from the battlefield, his Cult at our heels.
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Aleksander's arms are wrapped around me.
He says, "You were right. The age of the Lantsovs is over. The Nazyalensky dynasty has begun. The Age of Grisha. Of Saints."
I sigh as I snuggle into his warmth, "Would have loved to see the look on her face."
"She was livid," the Darkling replies. "But she handled it well."
"Why could I not go with you again?"
My husband just hums, "Though you are excellent at many things, I doubt you would have been able to disappear into the shadows with me."
I put a teasing grin on my face, "Oh you mean flee?"
He tries to look affronted but I can tell he finds my attempt at a jab humorous, "I do not flee."
I nod, "Yes of course. Except when you regained your powers. Or when the battle ended. Or when Zoya was chosen as Queen."
Strong arms grip me and suddenly I'm underneath him. He tilts his head, "Such accusations. How has your opinion of me grown so negative?"
I grin, "Perhaps I have forgotten some of your better qualities."
He braces his arms beside me and leans down, "Do you need a reminder, moya zvezda?"
"I think I do."
"Another lesson then," his smoky voice whispers before he captures my lips in a searing kiss.
We lose ourselves in each other's touch, trying to make this moment last forever.
But when the sun sets, we know our time is up.
"Shall we?"
I nod but my heart drops. The war may be over but more must be done in the name of peace. Aleksander and I have one last sacrifice to make.
We sneak into the Little Palace surrounded by inky darkness. Hand in hand we enter the war room. My husband takes a seat in his old chair as if he'd never left. I take the chair to his right.
When my friends open the doors and see us, Nikolai reaches for his guns, and Tolya and Zoya move into combat stances. But the Darkling merely rests his chin in one hand and grabs mine with the other, "It seems that, once again, Ravka has a problem only I can solve."
I roll my eyes and continue, "He meant to say that he's here to help."
Nikolai relaxes but his hand lingers near his gun, "And what do you ask in return for this help?"
The Darkling provides an evasive answer, "Is it so hard to believe that I just want what is best for Ravka?"
Zoya saunters closer and slams her hands on the table, "Yes."
I smell ozone.
"He truly is only here to provide aid," I interject.
The Dragon Queen straightens and turns to me, seemingly content to ignore my husband now, "I trust that you believe that, Svetlana. However, I have doubts. We don't need him."
I give her a wry smile, "Unfortunately, you do. All of Ravka does."
Zoya opens her mouth to argue more but Nikolai interrupts her, "Lana does have a point. We have no idea what to do."
The Squaller lets out an almost inaudible hiss, "This whole problem is his creation."
Nikolai approaches her, "Yes, but if he can be of assistance, do we really want to argue?"
She sighs but turns towards Aleksander, "Tell us what you know."
My husband's smile is smug, "We must venture to the Monastery of Sankt Feliks. I believe we will find the answer there."
Zoya raises an eyebrow, "Believe?"
She's met with silence. So I reply, "We believe so yes, though that is where our knowledge ends. But what other options do we have?"
The inner circle shares a look. In sync, they leave the room to discuss their decision, even though we all know what the outcome will be.
When they return, Zoya has cuffs in her hand.
"Against my better judgment, we have decided to take your advice. You will travel with us but will be bound," the Queen explains as she ties up Aleksander's hands. "The Sun Soldiers will accompany us, so don't try anything sneaky."
He allows all of this to happen, just as planned.
My friend then turns to me and points a well-manicured finger in my direction, "That goes for you too, Sankta Svetlana."
I grin, "Are you going to tie me up too? I kind of like that, Sankta Zoya. Or do you prefer Sankta Zoya of the Storm? No, of course, Sankta Zoya of the Lightning. Wait no-"
She cuts me off with a huff, "Point made, Lana."
We glare at one another before I burst out into laughter. Despite the squabble, Zoya's lips curl into a grin.
"We leave tomorrow."
I clap my hands like a child, "Can we go by Dragon and Firebird? I really want to fly with you."
Now everyone, besides the Darkling, is laughing with me.
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*Nearing the end
*Thoughts? Opinions? Predictions?