Chapter 51
Lilith sat cradled in Nidhogg’s arms, a warm harbor in the cold. Across from them, Sakunae Mashiro sat prim and quiet, cupping a small steaming cup, sipping in tiny breaths.
After meeting Nidhogg, Lilith was led by the two into a house that still stood mostly whole, like tired bones under snow.
Lilith hadn’t expected it. The Little White Dragon searched for ages, yet the town lay close—right under her feet. In this layer of the Grand Mausoleum, houses had been swallowed by endless frost. Ice thickened into glaciers, and deep snow lay over them like a second lid. Two white lids sealed old buildings, burying the Undead Wraiths’ town below.
Some taller buildings still poked up, not fully swallowed or only shallowly buried. While Lilith was lost alone on the icefield, Nidhogg had found an attic of a tower buried not so deep. The Black Dragon carved a mouth in the attic and lit a small campfire inside, a red flower in white silence. Then Sakunae Mashiro, in fox form, slipped up outside the rough shelter like a snow shadow. To keep the fox from wrecking the shelter, the Black Dragon moved first, pinned her to the ground, and gave her a beating—just as the Little White Dragon rushed in.
Lilith arrived in time and stopped the fight, her voice a bell in the wind. Nidhogg dragged them both back into the rough shelter and boiled a pot of snow-water, steam curling like white snakes.
“Whew, Miss Mashiro, long time no see.” Lilith cupped the heat and took a small sip. The Little White Dragon feared heat; the sip scalded her, and she stuck out a tiny tongue, panting like a puppy. She felt the look was undignified and gave an awkward smile.
“Actually, it hasn’t been that long,” Mashiro said, shaking her head. Beastkin don’t handle heat well; she held the cup without drinking, a weak smile trembling on her lips. Maybe it was the Moonswallow Mist’s grip, maybe it was the fresh bruises from fighting Nidhogg.
Feeling silly about clutching a cup she couldn’t drink, Lilith handed it back to Nidhogg behind her. She propped her cheeks with both hands, puffing them like steamed buns. “So why are you here, Miss Mashiro? I remember Eternal Life took you away then.”
“I escaped, thanks to you, Miss Lilith.” Mashiro bowed with grateful eyes, dew-bright. “Because of the power you left in me, my body briefly slipped Her control. I found a crack and slipped the chain.”
“Sadly, my strength is too small.” She lowered her head, guilt a stone on her chest. “You gave me a window, but I couldn’t hold it open. I slipped Eternal Life’s grasp, but She struck me. More Moonswallow Mist poured into me, and I lost my reason and attacked Miss Nidhogg.” Mashiro shed her coat. A brutal wound flared across her body, a red river from chest to waist. The Little White Dragon hissed a cold breath. The long scar clawed down the fox’s body like a pale snake. Lilith covered her eyes, afraid to look.
“Eternal Life… is She that strong?” Lilith’s worry rose like mist. She pressed small hands over eyes still pink from a stolen cry in Nidhogg’s arms. With her hands up, the world went dark.
“She’s far stronger than me,” Mashiro said, nodding. “Long, long ago, She beat me once. Years stacked like tree rings, yet my time against Her didn’t grow—ice melted and shrank.”
“Back then, fighting shoulder to shoulder, we could hold Her for five minutes. If not for losing to an information gap in our first fight, we might have beaten Her.” Mashiro shared her past, words heavy as snow. “We knocked Eternal Life down. Then Her body breathed out a surge of Moonswallow Mist. Our captain closest to Her inhaled too much and was seized in an instant. The rest of us drowned in the mist and lost the will to fight. Eternal Life wiped us out.”
“My teammates were all killed by Eternal Life. The Undead who still kept their minds were taken by Her. Only I remained, left alone for reasons I don’t know.” Mashiro’s voice sank like ash. Lilith understood she meant the Undead princess others had spoken of, yet she didn’t know how to comfort her. Lilith hopped down from Nidhogg’s arms, walked to Mashiro, and patted her shoulder, a small hand warm as a lantern.
“It’s okay, it’s okay. You got out, so we’ve still got a chance to go back and deal with that one.” The Little White Dragon lifted a tiny fist, a spark against winter. Lilith patted Mashiro’s back and spoke with steady warmth. “Don’t worry. I’m—uh—Nidhogg is strong. We were already planning to take revenge on Eternal Life. She bullied me hard before. I’ll make her pay.”
The Little White Dragon bit down, cheeks puffed pink like a warm river puffer. Mashiro couldn’t help it; she covered her mouth and laughed, frost breaking into petals.
Nidhogg sighed, a low wind through stone. The Black Dragon stood, pinched Lilith by the neck, and lifted her like a kitten by the scruff. “Sorry for the scene,” Nidhogg said, carrying the Little White Dragon back to her spot. The Black Dragon sat with the small dragon in her arms and apologized in earnest.
“It’s fine,” Sakunae Mashiro said, giggling behind her fingers. “A slightly rude question—what’s your relationship, you two?”
“Us?” Nidhogg pointed at herself and Lilith.
“Mm-hmm.” Mashiro nodded, eyes bright as stars.
“We…” Nidhogg’s smile turned sly, a cat in moonlight. The Little White Dragon felt the shift—someone was teasing. “She’s my fiancée,” Nidhogg said, calm as black ice, lying to the fox without a blink.
“Hey!” The Little White Dragon flicked Nidhogg with her tail, a soft whip. Lilith’s face flushed like a cherry, and she shot the Black Dragon a look, but let it go.
“Fiancée, huh.” Mashiro lowered her head at that, sadness pooling like ink. “That sounds nice.”
Lilith heard a different note beneath the words, a hidden wind in the reeds. Something’s up.
