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We buried her the next morning.

When a human died, they put them in a box, and buried it in the ground. When a dragon died in my old clan, their loved ones carried the remains upon their back, symbolically bearing the burdens they swore to carry. I would let them put her in the ground, in their graveyard because she meant something to this city. But I would not let them put her in box to be carried in some cart like cargo. When I roused myself from my trance-like grief, it was with a moment of fiery determination.

"You will not put her in a box," I said to those in charge of her body. I left no room for debate despite the sorrow that shook my voice. "You will put her in a dress. With flowers on it. You will find a blanket that she knit for someone, and you will wrap her in it. And you will place her on my back. I will bear her burden for the last time."

With my instructions given, and tears pouring once more from my eyes, I made my way to the edge of town to wait for her. When they had prepared April the way I requested, they brought her to me. I lay down, and for the very last time I took April upon my back. I swore I would bear her burdens for all of her days, but I did not think her days would be so short.

I would never get to watch her grow old.

For the last time, I bore her burden. I spread my wings, lifting them a little to cradle her blanket-shrouded form against my back as I trudged the snow. The snows that covered the hills around Sigil Stones were deep, but they tried to keep trails cut through them in the winter. I took the lead, and left a path through the freshest snow for the others to follow.

She felt so very light against me. Such a tiny weight against my back, and such a heavy anchor around my heart. I felt the loss dragging me down deeper with every step until I felt as though I was the one being buried in the frozen earth. I do not know where they had planned to dig her grave, but it did not matter. I knew where she would have wanted to be buried.

Alongside her mother. Alongside Lenira. Adopted or not they were family. Strange, in a way. Both had been my lover, and both had died long before I had ever felt the aches of old age. Lenira never birthed children, but she had raised many. She had clung to the hope that some day I would offer my love to her for all her days, and in the end she nearly drowned in that hope. April had no such intentions and yet love found her anyway. For Lenira, she never birthed children because she simply yearned to much for one she could not have. For April, it was that very love that would have kept her from having a child of her own had she lived a full life. At least April had been happy. And where Lenira had been looked down upon by many, April...

...April had been beloved.

When I reached Lenira's grave, I looked behind myself. A sprawling mass of people spread out beyond me, streaming up the hills, with still more yet pouring from Sigil Stones. The whole town was coming to April's funeral. In their own way, they loved her as much as I did. I hope that April knew what she meant to those people.

For a brief moment, that made me smile.

I dug her grave myself. I cleared the snow from the land, and I dug into the frozen ground with my paws. I would accept no assistance. Each time someone came with a shovel I gently pushed them away. I don't think they understood that this was _my_burden. But they did not argue. They simply watched me dig. The earth was hard and cold. I dug in it till my claws were broken, and my pads were bleeding, and I dug deeper just the same. I wish I could say there was catharsis in it, but there was not. But the pain it brought my paws took my mind off the loss, for a little while.

When the grave deep enough, I settled by the side of it. I held her shrouded form one last time. I knew there was little left of her beneath the blankets and the dress, but I hugged her to the plates of my chest just the same. They had wrapped her in a white and blue blanket knit to resemble the sky, and my tears dripped against it. I whispered my love to her, I told her I was sorry I was not there when she needed me, and I cried the farewell I did not get to say to her.

And then I put her in the ground.

As I began to fill the grave back in with the dirt I'd dug from the ground, Korvarak pushed his way through the crowd. His head hung low, ears drooping, his injured wing nearly dragged at his scarred side. The people parted for the green dragon as he limped across the cold, snowy ground. When he reached the grave, he took a pawful of dirt and tossed it in. He sighed, his ears pinned. He shook his head, his breath trembling.

"I am...ever so sorry for your loss, Valyrym." Korvarak stretched his neck and nuzzled me. I appreciated his comfort but could not find words to reply. "Her loss is all our loss."

I managed a single nod, sprinkling another pawful of dirt. Christmas with the Korvaraks wouldn't be the same without her.

Korvarak nuzzled my neck again. "You know, Valyrym, I know a bit about loss and depression. Ever since my injury..." He flexed his damaged wing. "I often find I need cheering up. Do you know what always cheers me up?"

"Blowjobs from my sister?"

"Well, yes." Korvarak smirked. "And remembering I'm a beloved side character with plenty of fans."

"Not as many as Voskalar." I smirked at him.

The shy brown and bronze dragon made a cameo that included an adverb. He sheepishly waved at us.

"Yes," Korvarak muttered, hissing. "Not as many as Voskalar." Then Korvarak's grin returned. "But speaking of Voskalar. You know what always cheers me up?" Kovarak licked my ear, his tongue soft and warm. His voice a tantalizing whisper. "Unexpected buttsex."

I pulled my head back in shock. "Unexpected buttsex!?"

The needle scratch was deafening as the Funeral DJ's jaw dropped. The crowd went silent. Korvarak stared out over the people a moment, then lifted his voice. "Yes! Unexpected buttsex." Then he grinned at me, cocking his head. "What do you think?"

I considered it for a moment, glancing at the grave. Seeing as I was newly single, it seemed like a good time to try new things. I wasn't sure where to begin, but luckily Korvarak seemed an old pro. The green dragon began to prowl around me, scales brushing scales, wings teasing wings. He slipped a paw under my tail, hefting my no-no bag.

"Stop!" I yelled, pulling away. "Bad touch!"

"No," Korvarak said, purring to me. He strolled up behind me again, rolling my tenderonis around in his paw. "Just relax. It's natural, just let it happen."

I took his advice. He was right. Just because the love of my life was dead was not excuse for being such an uptight prude. Soon I was relaxing. And bonerating. With his paw, Korvarak pulled my tail aside. I leaned forward a little, pressing my chest plates to the snowy ground. By now, the crowd had gone from stunned to suspiciously intrigued. I glanced back Korvarak's giant red lipstick and green party favors.

I smirked, turning my head away. "Dragons are hawt."

Korvarak's paw slipped beneath my belly as he eased himself up against my haunches. He found the center of my universe, and encouraged it to expand. I grew in his paw, gave an experimental thrust. Then I glanced back at him again, smirking. "You know, this is pretty easy, actually."

Korvarak's grin turned to a snarl. "You're my black-scaled bitch, now!"

Korvarak bit the back of my neck. I yelped in surprise, tucking my head down and hoisting my hind end higher. He was right, I was his bitch. With no further warning, Korvarak shoved his shaftamungous into my chocolate cake factory. I squealed like a pig. No wonder Kylaryn yowled when I did that to her.

Korvarak began to plow my wild field, tilling my earth for the first time. For a dragon who I could have sworn was half crippled, he certainly wasn't holding back. My whole body shook with every thrust. As Korvarak picked up his pace, the funeral DJ put on some bass-heavy, mid-70's era porn music. Bowchickkababowbow, and so forth. The crowd began to dance. Before long, they were breaking out glow sticks, and passing around balloons and sexing each other up all sexy like.

"Oh," Korvarak moaned, lifting his head to lick my ear. "You're so...tight!"

I hoped this wasn't going to cause any constipatory issues later. I found that the more his hot spudunkus rammed my Coco Chanel, the more I enjoyed myself. I began to work my haunches back against him, his paw squeezing my own Love Plunger.

"Oh, muuurr!" I murred murrfully, grinding against his Thingamacock. "This is the shit! Unexpected Buttsex is my jam!"

Soon we were seesawing back and forth like a hot, scaly, sexy seesaw of hot scaly sex. Korvarak thrust harder into me, and I pushed back harder still. Our bodies were as one, rocking, shifting, moving back and forth till the earth itself moved with us. Quite literally as Korvarak thrust too hard and the ground gave way beneath my forepaws, and we tumbled into the grave, still sexin' it up.

Whoops. Not like she'd mind anymore. And really, only part of us fit, anyway. Besides, I was Korvarak's bitch now.

A cheer went up from the crowd. "Spring breaaaaak!" Someone threw a beer bottle.

As Korvarak kept pounding my potato hole, an older man ran up from the crowd. It was Asgir, dressed in a black cloak for morning, his long beard done in two braids. He reached the edge of the grave, glowering down at us.

"What do you think you're doing!"

Korvarak slowly lifted his head from my neck, peering up from the grave. "Pleasuring him?"

"This is..." Asgir stammered with rage, his whole body shaking. He balled his hands up into fists, his eyes nearly scorched the scales from my body. "This is wildly inappropriate!"

"So's your damn beard!" I reached up, grabbed one of his beard braids, and yanked it off right off his chin. He screamed as it was ripped from his skin, the force of its removal pulling him right down into the grave with us. "Hah! Always wanted to do that." I tossed his beard away.

Someone in the crowd fetched Asgir's bloodied beard, and held it over their head like a war trophy. I watched him run it back into the crowd. Wondered if they were going to roll it up and smoke it? Who knows what manner ill and oddly enlightening effects they might gave from inhaling the smoke ofshesnarled at him, struggling against the grip of his men.

"Armadine!" Alia fought for breath, rage and fear fighting for control of her heart. "Armadine, you cannot do this!"

"Oh, but I can, Alia." Armadine smirked at her, then turned away. The golden edges of his extravagant purple cloak swirled around him. "And you are going to watch them die."

---

Chapter Seventeen

---

Kathlyn screamed as the entire armored carriage flew towards her. One of her bodyguards hurled her to the ground, pressing her face to the mud. The steel-plated wagon tumbled through the air just above her before it crashed to the earth, skidding across the sodden ground. Gods, but that dragon was strong. How could they possibly defeat her?

"Your Majesty, this way!" Another man hauled her to her feet, dragging her as he ran.

Mud coated her face and her golden dress. Blood caked her sleeves from the man she tried to drag to safety before her own guards made her leave him behind. Chain mail rattled and armored plates clanked around her as men formed a living shield. Her feet slipped in the mud that coated everything, before she could fall one of her men lifted her off her feet. He carried her in his arms as they ran to shelter behind another wagon.

"She's tearing us apart out there!" One guard screamed at another. "We've got to find safety for her majesty!"

"The bird already tried that, the damn dragon tossed them out of the sky." The guard squeezed Kathlyn's shoulder. "It's a miracle Her Majesty survived."

Kathlyn's heart tightened. She bit her lip, whimpering. Krek. Oh, Gods. Poor Krek. She had to get the gryphon help, but he was not the only one laying wounded out there. The Mad Dragon was unstoppable. Kathlyn's eyes darted about. Men lay dead all across the muddied meadow surrounding the monuments. Blood mixed with rainwater and fetid mud. Many of her elite guards were among the fallen, leaving soldiers and retainers to struggle to protect their queen.

In the distance a dragon roared.

Kathlyn clapped her hands over her ears in futile attempt to drown out the terrible sound. She'd known dragons before, but never in all her life had she heard such unquenchable rage. So much unbridled fury. So much madness in one voice, one roar. When she pulled her hands away, Kathlyn heard men screaming. Men were dying in that meadow. Giving their lives to give the Queen a chance to escape.

Yet in her heart, Kathlyn knew.

There was no escape from The Wind That Carries.

"Enough!" Kathlyn shouted, jumping to her feet. She pulled away from her guards, screaming at the blue dragon across the meadow. "I'm here! You want me, not them! Leave them alone! Leave Krek alone!"

In an instant, the armored blue dragon turned towards the Queen. She strode across the muddied meadow towards Kathlyn. Pouring rain washed away the blood that stained the blue dragon's elegant silver armor. Kathlyn's heartbeat accelerated, growing faster and faster till her heart threatened to explode. She was going to die. Kathlyn was not ready to die, but she was ready to die for her men, for her country, and for her love. For Krek.

"Enough is enough!" Kathlyn's voice was like a hammer striking an anvil, ringing out through the rain. "If all you desire is my life, Dragon, then take it. But my country, my people, shall never bow to you. And your country? If you slay me, they shall never know the freedom you desire. A freedom I wish to give them. A freedom that will be forever denied upon my death. My people will be blame Aran'alia for my assassination."

"Let them." The massive blue dragon came to a stop just in front of Kathlyn. Her silver eyes burned holes deep into Kathlyn's very soul. "Death In The Night shall tear Illandra asunder, and only Aran'alia shall remain."

"You're mad, Dragon." Kathlyn's voice grew softer. Once, this dragon must have been noble, fighting for her home. But it was clear now that fight had driven her mad. "Do as you will."

The dragon shoved Kathlyn onto her back in the mud. Pain erupted in her, her lungs seized. Kathlyn struggled a little, but the dragon pinned her down with an armored forepaw against her chest. The dragon lowered her head till Kathlyn felt her breath against her face. The rain made her breath feel cold.

"At long last." The dragon's voice was a growled whisper, a desperate need finally fulfilled. "For Aran'alia, I shall have my revenge." The dragon unsheathed her claws against Kathlyn's throat. "My sexy, sexy revenge." She dragged a single claw down the front of the Queen's dress, cutting her clothes open. With a flick of her paw, the dress fell open, leaving the Queen naked and sexfully aroused.

"Oh, snap!" Krek lifted his head from where he lay nearby. "That's my kind of revenge!" Krek started to rub his cockamajig.

"Ooooh!" Kathlyn said, wiggling her hips. "Why didn't you say so? Let's get this party started!"

Kathlyn's personal electric bass player climbed out of an overturned wagon, and began to play some funky slap bass. The Funeral DJ from the previous scene parachuted in with his turn tables, and lay down a dope beat, yo. Everyone who was still alive began to dance and throw their hands in the air. The dead people were still dead, though, cause death's some heavy shit.

The Wind That Carries began her revenge by lapping at Kathlyn's breasts. The Queen moaned in sexyness as the dragoness' hot tongue roamed over her dirty rosebuds. Pebbly scales teased Kathlyn's skin as the dragon gradually worked her muzzle down towards Kathlyn's uncanny valley.

The dragon lifted her paw to stroke the Queen's thigh. Kathlyn parted her legs for her sexy conquerer, and with a snip of her claws The Wind That Carries gave the Queen's fiery lovebush a stylish trim. Once her humid cavern entrance was better exposed, the dragon began to slobber all over her velvet curtains.

"Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooh," the queen moaned with the longest moan anyone had ever moaned.

The dragon swirled her tongue all around the Queen's love dumpling. Kathlyn lifted her hips, grinding her strawberry muffin against the dragon's nose. "Yeah! Oh, yeah! Baste my turkey, Baby, baste my turkey!" The queen cried out in bliss as the blue dragon's tongue plumbed her unknown depths like a sex spelunker.

"Oh! Oh! OOOOH!" When the dragon saliva stirrer roamed the queen's furiously engorged happy pebble, the Queen screamed and had like, sixteen orgasms in a row or something. "Oh yeah, Baby! Dragons are my jam!"

"Awww," Krek said, hanging his head. He stopped trying to squeeze the gryphon paste out of his fun tube, huffing. "I thought I was your jam."

"You're so 2000-and-late!" The Queen said, snapping her fingers. Much like this reference.

Sniffling, Krek went back to shpongling his own gryphon dongle, as usual. "Fine then! I'll just be over here, building my own casino! With blackjack, and hookers!"

Suddenly Korvarak appeared. He nuzzled at Krek's furry neck, licked his ear. "You know what always cheers me up? Unexpected buttsex."

"Oh yeah!" Krek said, standing up. "Unexpected buttsex is my jam!"

Krek mounted Korvarak, his spunk spout buried deep inside Kovarak's crawfish hole. "Now you're _my_bitch!"

Korvarak moaned, his tongue hanging from his jaws as the gryphon mounted him in what was sure to be at least a few fanboys dream image. "Harder, Krek, harder!"

"Shut up!" Krek said, his backhoe excavating Korvarak's escape tunnel.

Then Krek gave Korvarak a donkey punch. Only it was even harder, because he was a gryphon. It was a gryphon punch, and it sent them both toppling into her still-open grave.

And they all lived happily and sexfully ever after.

Except the one who was already dead.

And the other one who died of dysentery in the twist ending.

Epilogue:

Valyrym caught the clap from Korvarak.

Alia slipped and fell down the stairs and broke her neck.

Kathlyn married The Wind That Carries.

Krek also caught the clap from Korvarak.

Then a volcano happened or something.