Chapter 76: The Story’s Coda

Lilith woke again and met Nidhogg’s concerned eyes, like lanterns steady over winter water.

“Awake?” The Black Dragon’s hand stroked the Little White Dragon’s crown, like petting a sleeping cat, warm as sun on fur.

“Awake…” Lilith’s voice was thin, like wind slipping through reeds; her shattered thoughts knit by thread, yet gaps still misted over.

The Little White Dragon sat up with Nidhogg’s support, like a reed lifted from snow, and nestled into the Black Dragon’s arms.

She shook her head, like flicking dew from a leaf, and saw they were still in the room that harvested the Moonswallow Mist.

Nidhogg, Litt, and Abaddon stood nearby, like dark pines around a clearing; but Gillian and Sakunae Mashiro were nowhere in sight.

She didn’t chase the thought, like letting a leaf drift downstream, and asked weakly, “The Moonswallow Mist’s settled, right?”

“Yeah. You pulled it all into yourself.” Nidhogg tapped the Little White Dragon’s belly, like a knuckle on wood, her tone carrying a faint pout.

“You blacked out and scared us, like thunder out of a clear sky.

The Taint around you surged in a blink, then calmed, like a tide reversing.

Even without your command, it kept absorbing the mist, like fire eating dry grass.

I think your command over the Taint climbed again, like a kite catching higher wind.”

“Mm.” Lilith nodded and rested in the Black Dragon’s hold, like a shell in a wave, gazing up from below at Nidhogg’s face.

Even in the shadow of death, that face stayed exquisite, like frost carving a statue.

The White Dragon asked softly, like rain on moss, “Nidhogg, in your eyes, what color am I?”

“White…” The Black Dragon answered by habit, like snow spoken on reflex, then stopped, hearing the question beneath the question.

She pinched Lilith’s waist, turned her around, then cupped her cheeks, like holding a warm cup, and looked into those sapphires.

They were deeper than the ocean and brighter than the Star Canvas, like twin comets in a night pool.

“Blue,” she said. “Not azure. Not ink-dipped deep.

A pure blue, livelier than white, clearer than sky, a hue that belongs only to you, like spring water under noon.”

“You can see it, huh?” The Little White Dragon’s eyes curved into crescents, like moons smiling.

“Mm. Our hearts line up.” Nidhogg pressed her forehead to Lilith’s, like two stones touching in a stream, and both Dragons giggled.

“What’re they talking about? I can’t get a word,” Abaddon muttered beside Litt, the gray-white little Demon tilting his head like a puzzled owl.

“Well, Mama’s a lot prettier now,” Litt told him, like a sparrow announcing dawn.

“Pity you can’t see it.

She was already lovely in white, like frost-lit silk.

Now she’s blue, even more beautiful, like sky over fresh snow.”

“Doesn’t look that different to me…” Abaddon grumbled, like a kettle refusing to sing.

Yet Lilith’s change wasn’t only soul-whole and color-shift, like a painting re-varnished.

Her outside had changed too, clear as sunrise.

The bone-wings that used to appear only when needed had become full, feathered wings, like two quiet clouds.

Small wings, plush as toy fluff, still hung from the Little White Dragon’s back, like tassels on a festival kite.

Her horns had changed too, once subtle as buds.

The short nubs had lengthened, slender horns weaving themselves into a thorny circlet, like vines twining a crown.

It made Lilith look less like a Little White Dragon curled in her girlfriend’s arms, like a cat in sun.

She looked more like a little angel caught by an evil dragon, like a dove in a hawk’s claws.

“Why the feathers, though? Your feathered-dragon stage has long passed, right?” Nidhogg plucked one, like snipping a thread.

Lilith yelped, the sound sharp as a snapped string, and whipped the Black Dragon hard with her tail like a switch.

“No idea. Maybe it’s constellation resonance,” Lilith said, like guessing from starlight.

For now, she could only suspect it tied to the Void Command Seat, like strings on an unseen zither.

“Alright.” The Black Dragon let it go and changed the subject, like turning a page in wind.

“How do you feel now? Can you walk?”

“I’m fine. Body’s great. I just need more sleep,” Lilith said, voice brightening like sunrise after fog.

She slipped from the Black Dragon’s arms, flicked her tail like a banner, and pumped her little arms to flex, showing she was sound.

“Then come with me. Gillian and Sakunae Mashiro are waiting outside to see you,” Nidhogg said, like a bell calling to a gate.

She’d checked Lilith was truly fine; with that much energy to show off, there was no hint of a wound, like snow hiding no ash.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.” Lilith stepped out and met Sakunae Mashiro and Gillian, who waited in the corridor like two reeds by a stream.

A fox and a Wraith bowed in unison when the Little White Dragon appeared, like twin blades flashing.

Lilith froze on the spot, thrown off balance like a bird mid-flight.

“Miss Lilith!” said Sakunae Mashiro, voice crisp as wind-chimes.

“I don’t even know how to repay your help to the Undead,” said Gillian, solemn as a stone stele.

“If you want anything, please tell us. We’ll do all the Undead can to help you,” they said together, like a chorus under eaves.

“Hold up,” the Little White Dragon cut in, her wings twitching, like leaves in a breeze.

“I didn’t help you for payment.

Letting me swallow all the Moonswallow Mist was already rich enough, like a harvest under a full moon.”

“Nothing else?” Gillian was reluctant to give up, her voice lingering like smoke.

“The Undead are rebuilding from ashes, but we’ve still got plenty of treasure from before.

If you don’t take it now, we’ll pour everything into rebuilding the Grand Mausoleum later, and we may have nothing for you then.”

“All the more reason I shouldn’t.” Lilith waved her hands, like shooing sparrows, and declined Gillian’s offer.

“Keep it all for the Grand Mausoleum.”

“Besides, Nidhogg and I are just about to leave the Grand Mausoleum,” she added, like a traveler tying a pack.

“Not staying a few more days?

Well, we don’t have much anyway.

Our palace is buried in snow; there’s nowhere to host guests,” Gillian said, half wry, like winter sun behind clouds.

“It’s not about your place,” Lilith soothed, voice warm as tea.

“I’ve got other things to do next.

When I’m done, I’ll come back as a guest.”

“Then we’ll give you the Undead’s highest welcome and the local sights of the Grand Mausoleum,” Gillian said, smile budding like a crocus.

“Mm. I’ll hold you to it,” Lilith said, smiling, and nodded like a pecking bird.

“So, Miss Mashiro, you’re staying here?”

Before leaving the Grand Mausoleum, Sakunae Mashiro came to see them off, like a fox at the gate.

Lilith asked the fox lady who looked set on staying, like a traveler asking at dusk.

“Mm. I don’t have work back home anyway.

I’ll stay and keep Gillian company.

She’s got so much to do; she’s swamped.

If I help, it’ll be way better,” Sakunae Mashiro said, tapping her eyepatch like a moth wing.

“Only Gillian welcomes me like this.

I’m happy here, Miss Lilith, so don’t worry,” she said, smile calm as moonlight.

“I’ll find a way to heal your eyes,” Lilith said, her gaze snagging on the eyepatch like a hook on silk.

“Next time I come back to the Grand Mausoleum, I’ll fix them for you.”

“Mm. When you come back, I’ll make you our most popular mochi dumplings,” Sakunae Mashiro replied, sweet as steam from rice.

“Deal,” Lilith said.

“Deal,” Mashiro echoed, like two seals on the same letter.