Tabor looks up. They all do, only to see the most secret, most terrible of Maugrim's designs in the sky above them-- but only Tabor moves, while the others watch in horror.
The Dragon of Rakoth Maugrim is a twisted creature of his hate, which had grown nurtured by the malice of a thousand years. Now it is upon them, a roaring blackness filling the sky as it descends, a force of furious, unyielding destruction, not to be denied or challenged.
Save only by the red unicorn that climbs into the sky, a young boy upon her back.
Only each other at the last.
At Tabor's urging, Imraith-Nimphais streaks through the sky, making herself into a living blade with dazzling, incandescent speed, her silver horn shining like a star as she arrows towards the Dragon.
It opens its mouth, flame appearing at the base of its gaping throat, but it is too late, too late--
--and then, at the height of her speed, Imraith-Nimphais throws Tabor dan Ivor from her back, sending him falling through the air like a torn leaf.
Remember me! she sends, a single bright, clarion call.
And then Dana's red gift, the winged unicorn, hits the Dragon at the apex of her speed, her horn slicing and her body following, truly a living blade.
As she had shone, living, so now does she shine in her dying, exploding like a star together with the gathered fire of the Dragon as the two of them plummet to the earth west of the battlefield, dead.
As the Dragon appears in the sky, Kim falls to her knees, beaten there not by the wind of its coming but by the sick weight of her own folly. This, then, was the reason that the Baelrath had burned at Calor Diman; this is the need it had foreseen and demanded an answer too.
But she had refused, had denied it, and so now Tabor dan Ivor will pay the price for her refusal.
The guilt is numbing and useless. Kim blinks tears from her eyes, watching.
And so, she is able to see as Imraith-Nimphais bucks Tabor free, as Teyrnon-- warned by Paul's sharp, frantic cry-- reaches out with magic to slow his fall, as Arthur Pendragon races across the plain to catch Tabor in time, followed and guarded by Lancelot, the two of them moving nearly as one.
Her tears are for another reason entirely now, as Arthur brings Tabor back to them. The boy has collapsed, she finds, but will recover in time.
They all might, now.
We have a chance.
Even as she thinks it, Kim looks up and sees the Maugrim's armies approaching. There are too many of them, she thinks, and says aloud. "There are too many."
In the silence that follows, it's Gereint who answers. "There must not be."
Arthur turns, a passion flaring in his eyes.
"You are right, shaman. There must not be." And with that, the raithen leaps forward down the ridge, bearing Arthur Pendragon, the Warrior, back to war in Fionavar.
There is silence again, and then Jaelle breaks it.
"Are we lost?"
Drawn by something she cannot name, Kim looks up at Paul, who is facing northward-- and of all of them, gathered there, it is him who answers.
"Perhaps. But there is one last random thread of hope left for us still, and I will not concede dominion to the Dark until that thread is lost."
As he speaks, her own knowledge comes sweeping over her like a wave. With only a single glance at Jen, Kim moves to stand beside Paul, looking northward as well, toward a place she has seen only in vision, so long ago.
The Dragon of Rakoth Maugrim is a twisted creature of his hate, which had grown nurtured by the malice of a thousand years. Now it is upon them, a roaring blackness filling the sky as it descends, a force of furious, unyielding destruction, not to be denied or challenged.
Save only by the red unicorn that climbs into the sky, a young boy upon her back.
Only each other at the last.
At Tabor's urging, Imraith-Nimphais streaks through the sky, making herself into a living blade with dazzling, incandescent speed, her silver horn shining like a star as she arrows towards the Dragon.
It opens its mouth, flame appearing at the base of its gaping throat, but it is too late, too late--
--and then, at the height of her speed, Imraith-Nimphais throws Tabor dan Ivor from her back, sending him falling through the air like a torn leaf.
Remember me! she sends, a single bright, clarion call.
And then Dana's red gift, the winged unicorn, hits the Dragon at the apex of her speed, her horn slicing and her body following, truly a living blade.
As she had shone, living, so now does she shine in her dying, exploding like a star together with the gathered fire of the Dragon as the two of them plummet to the earth west of the battlefield, dead.
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But she had refused, had denied it, and so now Tabor dan Ivor will pay the price for her refusal.
The guilt is numbing and useless. Kim blinks tears from her eyes, watching.
And so, she is able to see as Imraith-Nimphais bucks Tabor free, as Teyrnon-- warned by Paul's sharp, frantic cry-- reaches out with magic to slow his fall, as Arthur Pendragon races across the plain to catch Tabor in time, followed and guarded by Lancelot, the two of them moving nearly as one.
Her tears are for another reason entirely now, as Arthur brings Tabor back to them. The boy has collapsed, she finds, but will recover in time.
They all might, now.
We have a chance.
Even as she thinks it, Kim looks up and sees the Maugrim's armies approaching. There are too many of them, she thinks, and says aloud. "There are too many."
In the silence that follows, it's Gereint who answers. "There must not be."
Arthur turns, a passion flaring in his eyes.
"You are right, shaman. There must not be." And with that, the raithen leaps forward down the ridge, bearing Arthur Pendragon, the Warrior, back to war in Fionavar.
There is silence again, and then Jaelle breaks it.
"Are we lost?"
Drawn by something she cannot name, Kim looks up at Paul, who is facing northward-- and of all of them, gathered there, it is him who answers.
"Perhaps. But there is one last random thread of hope left for us still, and I will not concede dominion to the Dark until that thread is lost."
As he speaks, her own knowledge comes sweeping over her like a wave. With only a single glance at Jen, Kim moves to stand beside Paul, looking northward as well, toward a place she has seen only in vision, so long ago.
To Starkadh.
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