Beneath the Shadow of an angry dragon is no place to be. 

SLASH. 

In but a single moment, powerful claws shred a body asunder, ending a life in a spray of red mist and viscera. If you're lucky, life fades to black. You fade with it none-the-wiser, departing this place and discovering yourself at the precipice of realms beyond. 

SLASH.

Or, if you're lucky, streaks of lightning find your skull first, taking out your thoughts before they root in pain. 

CRUSH.

Or, if you're lucky, your head finds itself crushed beneath the weight of Her Immensity's tongue before her glorious teeth crop your body with a ragged bite. 

SLASH. 

With Qrar's Luck, like mine, you'll lie torn on cool tiles,  watching your head roll a wing-length — maybe two — from your body. And you will see her as I see her looming over me now, biting back a rage built to obliterate cities. The most magnificent — and terrifying — creature in all the realms. 

The God-Emprex.

So, this is the end. The final chapter of my blessed life of servitude: back-breaking labor, standing straight and tall through every one of her Radiant Passings with such rigidity that my bones can bend no more. Thanklessness and powerlessness — a life bound to Her will, ending in the crunch of bones as my once proud chest is reduced to splinters by the mass of Her claw.

Not with a well-deserved rest you dreamed of. This vessel, once teeming with life, is fading. 

Is that... my wing? 

This is it. This is the moment of my death. I have a single breath left in my craw, yet there's no draft to carry me home. There was no time to scream, whimper, or raise a sword. There was no time. That's my body, my blood, dripping from Her Magnificence's claw as she shakes off her momentary fit as if my slaughter was a passing inconvenience. 

I don't need to breathe, though there's so much I want to say, perhaps for the first time. I feel no pain — at least, not yet. It has only been a moment, after all. Shouldn't I be afraid? My head must have fallen against one of the other servants, aaetherians I've stood beside my whole life. No, not beside... more like above. Why would I think like that now?  

I could shut my eyes, but I don't know how much time I have left. No, I must keep them open now. If these are my last moments in this realm, I want to gaze upon Her Brilliance one last time. It all happened in such a bluster. There was no warning and no time to escape. She didn't send us away. My beak must still be ajar from the shock. I always knew this could happen. I've seen it happen to others before me. But somehow, I never thought it would happen to me. And how could it? 

I was steadfast. Always prompt. I was never wavering. Loyalty, first and foremost, to the God-Emprex and her brood! My bones toiled through Shimmer and Shadow without fail, without complaint. My instincts are unerring, and my standing is flawless. I was perfect.

I shared this hall with hundreds of others. Their blood, still embedded in tiny talon nicks in the marble, makes it easier to remember them. Our eyes can spot them even if Hers can't — stains that will not come out, no matter how much you scrub. Perhaps those stains are the marks of defiant souls, resisting her even in death. I could have removed them, but we were never allowed to dabble in arkana. For all her glory, She would never allow us to dabble with such things. That would be heresy. 

I covered the stubborn spots with chalk bartered from my meals, hoping no errant claw would brush it away for Her to see. I know where all of those spots are now. I tended to them like graves. I knew their names. Naming them was my only act of defiance. What if that gave me the strength to carry on for so long? Sometimes, the illusion of a stain remained, like a scratch you couldn't itch. But now, I am one of them — a stain that will be scrubbed away and forgotten.

Our names are the only thing given to us. The winds carry our true names, and Her Brightness stole them long ago. If the winds bless me, they'll carry me away to my name as I leave a stubborn drop to stain her halls. 

Will the others hear my name when they sing my song to the winds tonight? How does it go again? 

"Her Sky, Her Storms, Her Shadow and Scales. I worship them from afar..."

No, that's not right. Ah, it's not important now. The others will know it. They sing the tune all too often. 

I hope... I hope they remember me. I always found it easier to remember others after they were gone. Will they hear my name as I did theirs? Will they recall it, or will I just be another stain in the marble?

Tears abound. I yearn to sing to them. It looks like I left a squall to clean up. Will someone else be punished for the mess I've left behind? I never wanted that. I tried to live as long as I could. I did everything right. I was perfect. Wasn't I?

Her Glorious Tail never knocked me about, nor did her capricious moods rattle me. She even let me sing to her before her mighty voice deafened me. I hoped when I came of age, Her Enormity would grant me the choice of a mate, should one have me in return. I would have made impeccable offspring. 

Even still, I regret not risking romance, even without Her permission. I fantasized about stealing an evening under the Scales with Aa'shaav. I see her beautiful plumage ruffling abashedly when I dance with her... I'm the most pleasing dancer in the aerie. 

Do you doubt me? If you must, but I do not need to prove it. Take my word for it... that title will be passed on a wing shortly. 

I need... I need it to matter while it can. 

I desired a family of my own making, though. A mate. Yes, and a proper family with little ones to look up to me as I looked to Her for all these passings. Yet, I must confess the dark thoughts that have made me wary that such a reward would be self-fulfilling and nothing more. 

Is that a surprise? My eyes have been sharp for a chance to settle after a life of hard work. Survival was a dream. A family would be lovely, but perpetuating this cycle by my wings, creating another generation of victims for Her to stain these royal halls with, splits my chest. Why didn't I do more? I could have done more.  

With Aa'shaav, I would have bore no such fruit. I wouldn't have needed to be perfect. 

Gah, it's... The world is a haze. My focus is taking flight. My throat tightens as the moment of my last gasp draws near. But you understand, right? I'm a fragment now — the last flickering spark clinging to a dying life. 

Who are you? Are you there? Hold yourself together. How much longer can I call these thoughts my own? Is this what dying feels like? Why do I feel such regret? 

Hold yourself together. 

Funny, to think that when your body has been scattered across the floor, a feather here, a talon over there. And is that—? 

Oh. Aeritharch Kysara stands before the God-Emprex? I hadn't recognized her until now. If only you could see her from my eyes. I've never seen her so driven.

The Aeritharch is standing firm and fearless in front of a hurricane. Her ill tidings are what brought this upon me, aren't they? What did she speak of that sent Her Magnificence into such a typhoon?  

Her Radiance — it is fading. I see Her differently. Her scales... they look darker. When She spreads Her wings, the sky melds with Her... But now, from here, I see the separation. The luster is gone from her. No matter how polished her scales are, they will never shine again. 

No, she is not the sky. Her true form is revealed to me. She's neither Shimmer nor Shadow... She... She is something else. 

She is a maelstrom. 

A brume concealing a thunderhead—untameable, wild, and lashing. 

She has turned kith against kin and taken our skies from us, claiming them her own. And for what?

She is a malediction.

Gales and gusts, I've been a fool. This life... I did not choose it, but I have lived it. I flew its currents and basked in Her glory. I ignored the whispers of change. I dismissed those who dared to speak of rebellion, those whose dreams extended beyond the blue veil. I was afraid to draw attention to myself, for I feared death. I feared living with regrets, but now I see I have had more than my share.

Was I really so strong? Could I have tipped the balance? Could I have added my voice to theirs? Could I have been the last drip needed to overflow Her mug? Or the last raindrop to swell their storm? 

Change is... a starlit dream. I let hope die. Worse still, I stood by when I was needed. 

I should have fought! I should have stood with my kin and defied her, shouting in the face of death with a weapon in hand. I could have lived a life of honor worthy of as little as a footnote in a scroll in an ancient library. I accepted a death sentence instead of writing my own. Is that what they call 'ironing' in the Ficer's shop? 

I feared the change Her detractors thought they could make, even though it was what I wanted. I did not believe they were strong enough. How could they be? We are nothing compared to Her Magnanimity. But, they had — no, have — the strength to risk all they believe in. They are still out there, talons desperate to wield a blade in defiance.

Clouds below, I should have been part of that fight. If I had lived the kind of life that only exists in a hatchling's tale, I could have made the world... breathtaking.

Oh, to fight like Kherc. I, too, want to make whips of my ancient gales and create drafting winds for all. I want to hear the sounds of sailors in the realms below singing my name skyward! I feel that ancient spirit within me now, the gift of breath and fury that was supplanted from me. It is a faded memory, but I am still bound to it. These winds were meant to be ours. What more punishment could she force upon me now for thinking His name? 

Better that I would have lived every moment in defiance, even if those moments were fleeting. But, I am here, scattered across the floor. And this realm carries on. I hope when they sing my song, my soul can change the key from its sorrowful gale so it might lift their hearts. If I, her most loyal servant, would be killed so carelessly, why should any of them accept the same fate? 

I can still see Her lips sparking furious spite to the Aeritharch. Her beautiful voice... Her terrifying voice... A voice of thunder. I remember the storm She had when I heard it last. Oh, to listen to it one more time. This bluster seems far worse. What news did Aeritharch Kysara bring to brew such a fury? Steady now.

Look at her! Storms, look at her... 

No, look at you... That's your lifeblood in the tile cracks. Those are your feathers; they are still trying to take flight under Her, reaching to touch Her if but one time. 

She is but a caring mother, protecting Her flock…

If she cared, would she have done this to you? If she wanted you to soar, she would have lifted you up. 

God-Emprex... I would still help you if you let me... I have served you loyally! Tirelessly... Endlessly…

"Don't be a fool," my tiercel would say, "fools get killed." Which rises on me now. I am a fool, torn by sheering winds. My breath still lingering in my craw, waiting to call for my song. I best not waste it on more foolishness. 

The Aeritharch speaks again. Though I cannot hear her words, their weight is not lost on me. Aurarch Azryn is dead. A favored son of the God-Emprex was slain. He was murdered by a land dweller! Of all creatures!

How is that possible? Descendants of the God-Emprex are untouchable, unkillable, immortal even, like the God-Emprex herself. Was it all a lie? Scales and Skies above, was my body destroyed out of rage? Or, simply for that, what might I have overheard? 

Why does Her Gloriousness seem placated now? How does this pass? The Aeritharch is speaking at such a pace I can't decipher her lips — no, it's the darkness closing in.  

'His death was a...," Did she say 'gift'? 

Where is your rage now, God-Emprex? Your officer has told you that the death of your son was a blessing, and yet you wait with bated breath. You have slain my kind for far less of an offense. Are we not your children as well? 

Kysara is standing firm. The God-Emprex must be able to see the fear in her. She is too taught, jaw clenched and chin lifted. Her tail has stopped moving, and her wings are stuck in a downdraft. But she knows something... 

Aeritharch, quickly! Speak! What do you have to say that will spare your life? 

Her lips move slowly this time, or perhaps the world is ending for me. I can see her jowls bunching as she clenches her alabaster teeth. The corners of her mouth draw as her tongue presses to its roof, leaving trails of wet lightning as her lips part. Her armored throat clicks, struggling with the weight of commontongue. Go on! Her lips unfurl, a short hiss departing before they clench again, then purse as the final hiss leaves them. She awaits, her fate suspended in her breath.

"Nexus." 

'Heresy!' I want to gasp! But I can feel the darkness closing in. Let me draw upon this final wind... to do... the right thing... 

How can she stand before the Her Immensity and speak such a forbidden word! And yet... there she stands... Aeritharch Kysara, unyielding. Her Magnificence — dare I think her name?... Liskea — has not raised a claw or flicked an ear since that filth poured from Kysara's maw. 

Kysara should be slain on the spot, as my kith and kin have been for a thousand years! The very word we were told never to say or think — yet now that I hear it from her maw, it seethes into my soul and feeds my hope more than any meal I've ever eaten.

And still, Liskea is calm. Her favored son lies slain! Blasphemy was uttered to her face, yet now her rage is steeled! I have seen her for six thousand cycles — cold, calculating always —but now, something shifts. She asks for a name. 

A name! 

Not any name. The breath that could destroy her reign. Oh, the weight of such a thing. Does she shift her posture from fear? Or can she feel the weight as I do? I have seen her Consorts so uncomfortable before. Her Magnanimity Liskea is capable of such a thing as aaetherian as fear? It was a brief flash, but now Her sparkling veil of courage is turned to glimmering feather dust to my dying eyes. 

It's an odd thing, this death. My death. My unmaking. I feel more alive in this last moment than in all the days I spent under the Shimmer. I now know what I must do.

Liskea! The storms build within me once more! You may have imprisoned Kherc and enslaved my kind, but these are not your winds. Generations of clipped wings fighting for scraps, used as tools, and killed will no longer be for nothing! I hope when you feast on my corpse in the light of your fading Shadow, my bones break your teeth and pierce your throat.  

I cannot redeem the actions of my wretched life... but... my song will not be sung tonight... I will not call for it. 

Aeritharch... You needn't tell her... I know the name. 

Yes, the name. 

I know this name. In my dying moments, it has been made known to me. 

Liskea! I know this name! Do you not? Ha! Do you not!

The name passed in shadows for generations under your reign. Yes, look at me now, Your Malevolency. You notice me blinking, don't you? Do you see me now? I know the name of the one that will set us free from this torment, this wretched, hateful life you have built to be our prison.

Yes, look at me, Liskea. USURPER! 

LOOK AT ME. 

Scowl at me, False God. I may have shut my eyes to your indifference, but I can see a new realm waiting... 

This is it... My final act.

Do I have your attention now, Maledict? She would tell only you that you might lock it away and add it to your hoard. But I?  I speak to the winds. 

Do you hear me? Come closer... 

Good. I shall set it free.

This name is not for you to keep. It is for my kin. For my kin... For Aa'shaav... I sing one final time... 

I sing an aria for hope... and a call to the gales…

  to carry my soul to the winds…

  With…

  My…

  Last…

  Breath…

"Zephyr."

There. It is done.

There's nothing you can do to control it now. The name echoes on the winds. And soon, all shall know that name. 

Not just a name. A catalyst to your downfall. 

I am spent now, broken... But I am free from you. I am free.

Perhaps, beneath the Shadow of a dragon... was where I was meant to be... 

The song... I remember the song now.

The Sky, the Storms, Shadow, and Stars.

Have only seen me from afar.

But Shimmer warmth, squall of air,

and spirits mend my heart.

I take with me not sorrow, 

solace, shame, or regret,

Instead, I give a song to the wind

So I may find my — 

CRUNCH

Rest.