I look back at the city. She still smokes, even nearly two days after the battle. The walls around her are nearly undone, the work of many for months relegated to a day of destruction. The surrounding trees are much fewer than before. They were cut down and made into tools of protection and war and what is left is mere stubs.

A long snake of people curl behind me and the Berserk, Henry, who leads us into the woods.

Coming into the city mere days ago, I didn’t know what I would find. It was my fear there would only be ashes.

For that was the luck of my entire life.

And yet... Videlia stands.

But most importantly, her people live. My friends, pack, and family survived an impossible battle.

The scent of ashes clings to my nose... but also, strangely, hope. I didn't expect to come out of this alive, but here I am. Here we all are. And if we can survive that? Perhaps Pa's dream is not so unattainable after all.

I look back. Flash with his arm in a sling helps Morgana change Zephora’s bandage. The Were grimaces and growls, clenching and unclenching fists with claws instead of fingernails, but she doesn’t make a sound. A sword about took her arm, but Morgana saved it. Saved her life.

Heather is beside her, reclined in furs and swaying with the movement of the Berserk.

She looks up and finds me watching, giving me a little wave. I smile at her and nod. She’s going to live. We don’t know if the blow caused lasting damage or what the silver might’ve done in a brain injury like that, but she’s alive. Shasta holds her mother’s hand, swinging her legs and gaping all around at the trees, the large river we follow, and the trees budding above us, raining down petals of white and pink when the wind blows through the boughs.

Beside her... is Nova. She gapes much like Shasta, but for far different reasons, looking up at the sky and all the people and creatures around us with wonder in her huge brown eyes. I imagine it’s quite different being such a tiny creature compared to the dragon she was. I’m unsure if she’s even able to change shape like a normal Changeling. I haven’t even heard of Chosen Heirlings, but it's my hope she doesn’t come to loathe me for begging for her life from the Allfather. Come to loathe what her life may be. I doubt we've barely scraped the ramifications that comes with her new form.

She’s so... exuberant. Happy. Her head turns, finding my eyes on her, and the feathers on her head bristle and she tries to smile like Shasta showed her.

“No! Not likes thats. Bring the corners up.” Shasta hops from the leathers beside her mother to kneel in front of Nova, putting her fingers in Nova’s mouth and morphing it into a forced grin. “Now tries holding it there.”

Shasta takes her hands away, and Nova tries to hold it. But the corners come further back and show more teeth than a normal human’s smile, with two teeth on top and bottom that are shaped like fangs.

Shasta smiles and pats Nova’s shoulder. “You’ll get theres,” the child says, sympathizing with the dragon.

Nova drops the smile, her shoulders and ears drooping, but she perks back up when a chuckle rumbles from deep in my soul, a grin turning my lips.

I give her a wide smile, my eyes crinkling. “Don’t worry, Nova. You’re beautiful just as you are, smile or no smile. You’re a dragon-heart with a soul of fire. Be nothing but yourself,” I whisper.

Her ears perk, and her eyes soften as a soft trill reaches my ears.

Above the petals is a bright blue sky with fluffy clouds and a sun who shines down on us, warming our trek into the mountains.

I negotiated the release of all who wanted to leave Videlia... and all who wished to stay. Following us are the final refugees who wish to follow me into the unknown. But all who wished to stay were granted pardon... except the militia and any Shifter, Were, or Mage.

But as I look around, meeting the eyes of my friends... I realize that although in the end we lost Videlia, we gained so much more.

And as I turn my gaze to the hills, I feel a lingering lightness in my soul. To see Barry and Jed. To train them in the way of the warrior. To play with them. To introduce Shasta and return to those we’d left behind. To mourn what was and have joy in what is.

My life has changed drastically many times in my life. But never before did I have such a joy rising in my breast. It's time not only to survive, but thrive.

For once, I am more concerned with life than I am with death.

It’s time to live.

It took many days, but we at last reach Dragon Valley. I took Pa's brother to his grave, and the man took one look at the place with the monuments built in his honour, gave me a lingering stare that looked nearly lost, as if he wasn't looking at me but something far different, then turned and left.

I did not see him again. Flash said he sent a berserk and Were to get him back to Videlia. I have a feeling I have not seen the last of him. Indeed, I hope not. Despite how we met, it's hard to find a man who smells so much like the one I called Alpha and not accept him as pack. My wolf already has accepted him. Now to get him to see that... that may be harder than forcing a berserk into a dragon cave.

A thousand people flood into the plains of Dragon Valley. A few Beserk, beginning with Henry plus his mate and child, have finally found the courage to come higher into these mountains and work beside Nova and her dragonlings.

The people below seem lost, looking around and gaping in awe at the greenery we emerged into while the mountains are still white with snow, but yet many are working on pitching tents, getting their animals settled... and some are even reaching out to the other races below, Shifters and Were and Humans handing out kindness as if it were free. Forearm shakes, laughter, hugs, and shared sorrow is in abundance below me as these people work to get to know their neighbor as they are all uprooted from a life they thought they knew.

I smile as Barry and Jace catch sight of us, waving from where they run with other children in both wolf, cat, and human form. The cats pounce and the wolves wag their tails, yipping in pure happiness.

A cat pounces on Jed, taking him to the soft grass and slobbering all over his face to his deep belly laughter.

A small, sad smile tips my face. “I wish you were here, Pa,” I whisper.

He is, Cynic says, his voice soft and reverent.

A genuine smile lifts my lips.

Nova keens from beside me on Henry, her soul worried as she spots her dragonlings in the sky. I connect with her with a touch of my arm, reassuring her that everything will be fine.

She doesn't quite believe me, but her muscles relax and she leans her cheek against my own, still watching her dragonlings flying above as I freeze. I relax as she moves back in her own space.

It's not that I was afraid of her pulling a knife on me or stabbing me with claws. I didn't even flinch. In fact... quite the opposite.

The dainty scales on her cheek are soft, much softer than I ever could have imagined. With her eyes wide with wonder and her hand clenching my tunic as if I am her only lifeline, I can't help it. I watch her with wonder, touching my cheek and feeling something nearly like the essence of lightning race across my skin in response to her touch.

I... I can't remember the last time I felt anything like that.

So I watch her, a genuine smiling turning my lips and my heart pattering in my chest in ways I thought it never would.

I eventually pull my gaze from her at a pointed cough from Flash.

He and the rest are watching me as if I were caught with my pants down.

I glare, but that only makes Tim, Jace, and Flash grin, showing way too many teeth to be exactly nice smiles.

Heather watches with a gentle upturn of her lips, as if she knew all along. I was afraid my other side--a-hum, Cynic--would make this confusing, but it seems she knew we were only siblings and nothing more. Her nod confirms this, her eyes shimmering with happy tears, and I nod back, smelling her genuine joy for me.

David watches with something akin to pure, pride-filled joy, as if he were a father watching his son hunt for the first time.

Flash, Zephora, Heather, David, General Brackenridge, Tim, Jace, and Morgana come beside me and Nova, all watching from the back of the berserk as we see what we fought with life, blood, and bone to preserve.

“A city of safety is born,” David says, his voice low and reverent. “A place where all may come and be welcomed as they are.”

“What are you going to name her?” General Brackenridge asks, his scowl absent as wonder grows in his eyes.

“Pater Hæfen,” I reply without thinking.

Flash nods from beside me. “Father’s Haven. Fitting.”

And I don’t think I imagine the soft sigh of joy in the air followed by a hearty chuckle I would know anywhere, nor the flash of red feathering from the corner of my eye.