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There's still time for all of that, yes?

I trust you to keep your word. Your noble nature would be appalled at the very thought of breaking a promise.

But what you just described, would that truly make you happy?

Or would that simply be enough to appease the Loughshinny Dublinn who did not even witness her parents' death, that snowy night? Those... beautiful fictions?

Sister. Love, poetry, dreams—those are all well and good, but it is time for you to wake up.

Kill me. If you truly wish to end this chaos, that is the only way.

Then, put on the crown, and you shall become me, while I become you.

That is the one thing I cannot do.

You'll have time to mull over it once I'm dead.

Didn't you decide not to hesitate anymore, Loughshinny?

There's been no other choice for us from the moment you came back to see me.

The older sister's mouth curls up in an intriguing arc.

Come, dance with me.

Is this... the dance you've been looking forward to all this time?

Why can't it be?

The younger sister closes her eyes as she points her spear at her older sister, whose body is about to topple over. She grips her weapon with both hands.

The sharp speartip pierces the red dragon's body, but she stands unmoved, as if nothing happened at all, until her younger sister's hand circles her waist, and her body slowly crumples.

...Just like the end of a dance.

Yes, I know.

I should have known long ago.

But why? Why must it be now?

...Then when?

Don't tell me you'd prefer to stab my heart on a fine afternoon, after meticulously dissecting every nuance of right and wrong with me?

You returned to me, and we danced this dance together. That's enough.

I only thought... if my sorrow and hatred were thrown into a suitable flame, they'd eventually become the fuel for life to go on.

Sorrow, and hatred... so you admit it, Loughshinny.

Your noble virtues have only hurt you in the end. Where is your fire, Sister?

I can't put out your flames just like that.

Hah, you mean... the people in the city?

You will die, but not now. Your flames will be extinguished at your funeral, at your fire-returning ceremony.

But still, you ought to be dispelling death with scorching flames, rather than holding the hand of the dead and confessing your own inner turmoil, your own regrets. Otherwise...

You will only ever be as you are now, letting go of your chance to save everything... your final chance.

The noble red dragon loosens her grip in shock, and her sister's body drops to the ground, as cold as it was before her heart was pierced.

It is not blood but purple fire that roars from the wound spanning her entire torso. It instantly floods the balcony and flows down the citadel.

The noble red dragon rushes over to the balcony, but the purple flames of death are even faster.

Before her own flames can emit even the tiniest spark of light, the purple fire spreads across the city, burning the whole of Na Saoirsí.

The last time she looked out from this very spot, the flames were scattered like stars in the sky. When she had returned earlier that day, they coated the whole city with a cold and gloomy hue.

And now...

Na Saoirsí itself burns fiercely, just like every other restless corpse she has seen.