And since we had no shovels or supplies to assist us with this task, I did the only thing I could. I used my magic to reshape the terrain and dug a hole big enough to hold a creature of her size. Then slowly—painfully—we laid her to rest.
I covered her myself, filling in the hole with the disturbed dirt. Afterward, I crafted a simple stone marker, on which I carved her name and wrote a small epitaph. It wasn’t anything special, but it felt as though I owed her this, to let her know we loved and cherished her.
I stepped back once finished and stared at the mound, tears once again burning my eyes. I’d seen death more times than I could count. One didn’t live in Hell without experiencing death. I hadn’t even been free of it back on Earth, when I’d killed Deidre. Cut her head clean off—a deserved ending for that traitor.
But this…
Sable’s death broke something in me.
She’d given me everything. Her loyalty, her friendship, her protection. There were few in my life I considered family—in fact, they were all here with me now—so losing one of themhurt.
Eventually, the others said their goodbyes and drifted back to camp, hoping to salvage whatever supplies they could from the wreckage. Eliza lingered the longest, pulling me into a one-armed hug, her injured arm still cradled close. Levi gave an awkward shoulder pat in passing. Calyx didn’t say a word, just walked away.
Mephisar, Gorr, and Rathiel were the only ones who remained, flanking me and the grave like silent sentinels.
Rathiel kept a respectful distance and hadn’t said a word since we’d buried her. He also hadn’t tried touching me again since I’d pulled away earlier. But he was here, offering his support the only way I’d take it.
There was so much I needed to take care of. The dragon had battered my people and burned most of our supplies. Plus, I needed to check on Vol and Purrgy. Thankfully, they’d both survived the battle thanks to Vol’s quick thinking. According to Eliza, Levi had been the one to spot the incoming dragon, and Vol had instantly jumped on Purrgy’s back and herded him somewhere safe. But neither of them had braved leaving their hidey-hole even after the battle ended.
But regardless of all that, I wasn’t ready to leave Sable’s grave yet. And from the way Mephisar hovered over her grave, it seemed he wasn’t either.
Sighing, I stepped forward and touched his flank. His massive head turned to look at me, then he let out a low, guttural growl—a sound of pain and mourning. My shoulders tightened, and my heart grew so heavy. I would never forget the day I escaped my father’s palace on Mephisar’s back with Sable at our side. They’d protected me against all odds and delivered mesafely to Levi, who had then brought me to his rebellion camp. They’d fought with me in all the battles we’d faced since then.
It felt wrong to go on without her. But we didn’t have the luxury of choice. I couldn’t lose myself to grief.
Mephisar slowly lowered his head onto my shoulder. The weight nearly broke me, but I held strong and cupped his cheek.
“I know, buddy,” I said. “I hurt too.”
Gorr found my other side and pressed against my thigh.
I let them have this moment of comfort, then stepped back and gestured toward the camp. “Come on.”
Mephisar rumbled his incoherent response, and it made me want to cry again when Sable’s reply didn’t come. But together, we turned away from her final resting place and made our way back to the camp.
At first glance, the sight wasn’t encouraging.
What had once passed for a functional—if not makeshift—base was now a scorched graveyard of smouldering debris. And in the middle of it all was the dead dragon.
We’d chosen to bury Sable first, because she mattered, but there was no avoiding this unpleasant task now.
I changed course and strode toward the beast, stopping beside its hulking corpse. Blood had pooled beneath its fractured skull, soaking into the dirt in a blackish mass. Its wings splayed wide, the thin membranes tattered. Its jaw hung open in a slack snarl, its forked tongue lolling sideways out of its mouth.
The scales were even more impressive up close. They were obsidian and rippled with a faint, unnatural shimmer. In Hell, we kept what we killed and fashioned whatever supplies we needed from hides and bone, including tents, clothing, shelters, and weapons. Anything and everything we could think of.
I’d forged armour and weapons when I’d created my army; I had no doubts I could do it again. We could definitely make use of the scales. Armoured and fireproof, two very handy statswhen facing Lucifer. Then there were the tail spikes. I could easily see them being turned into clubs. One sharp smash to a skull would theoretically end anyone’s life—perhaps even the Devil’s.
I turned away from the dragon to find Eliza, Calyx, and Levi combing through their gear, taking inventory. Their expressions were grim.
“How’s it looking?” I asked.
Eliza shook her head. “Not good. Everything’s torched. Our food resources are completely gone. Bedrolls are practically ash. Clothes too.”
“Weapons?” I asked.
Eliza held up one of her daggers, its hilt blistered and peeling. I couldn’t tell from this far back, but the steel looked warped and slightly off-angle.
“Not great,” was all she said.
