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The deathly fires have not yet completely transformed the people into the walking dead. They're still alive. There is still time to return the flames.

And you're not going anywhere until Nemos awakens them.

Ridiculous.

Ridiculous? Maybe.

Maybe my strength, my wisdom, and my Arts are all so insignificant to you that it seems ridiculous.

But I have my resolve.

Nemos drags the coffin through the corridor.

The red dragon's remains do not burn. They simply lie there quietly.

This is how death should be. But Nemos seems to hear an ethereal voice laughing in her ear.

Without hesitation, the wayward wakewoman lifts the limp body and tosses it into the coffin.

This coffin, red dragon, is your final resting place...

It's where those like you belong.

So where are you now? Are you still watching us from somewhere, with that twisted smile of yours?

But this vessel, at least, is beyond your reach. Otherwise, you'd have burned me to ash by now.

And this spear, which never left your side... How many times have you breathed your flames from it, and how many others like Culann have been your victims?

You don't even know the answer, do you?

With great effort, Nemos lifts the spear and thrusts it into the coffin.

Flames from its tip engulf the coffin in an instant, spreading along the rope connecting it to Nemos and merging with the purple fire on her.

A deathly cold runs through Nemos's body, but she could hardly feel temperature at this point.

You're mine now.

I'll finish what Culann started.

Let's go, to those lowly, despicable places that suffered from the war you stole victory in.

You will be seen by all. Your death will be seen by all.

They will know that you are dead. That the proud, imperious red dragon is dead. 'Here lies Eblana Dublinn, in this coffin covered in freezing flames.'

But... what will they do then?

I pray that your death will wake them up, of course, as Loughshinny hoped.

That they'll know that the era you represented is over. That Na Saoirsí will escape this calamity. That Tara need not celebrate its rebirth with the death of a city.

But... heh...

Your fire must have gotten to my head, dragon.

Why is that I suddenly feel like the other ending... where it all ends in destruction... isn't so bad?

Someone else may have killed you, but...

<i>This</i> is my revenge.

The coffin remains silent, and Nemos no longer speaks.

Silent, delirious, and determined, she drags the burning coffin down the stairs, making a point to let it hit each step on the way down.

It sounds like the withered mockery of the dead.

Nemos drags the coffin out of the citadel.

Not a single soul is in the square with the statue. Curfew has begun, but she drags the red dragon's coffin over as the draconic flames burn within her own body.

Wherever she goes, the darkness retreats. Once she moves on, it re-occupies the space.

Hah, Culann... I envy you.

No one could have slept through you dragging that colossal statue, forcing them to come out to see what's going on.

But what about me, Culann? What am I supposed to do?

Do I have to keep shouting 'The Red Dragon is dead!' as I walk down the street?

She lifts her head to meet the statue's eyes. The violet flames dancing within its pupils do not answer.

She recalls the songs she sung for the dead with the wakemen all those years ago. Those from the city would also join in, if only for the first few lines.

...I hope you all remember the ancient ballads, Tarans.

So, Red Dragon. Which song should I sing to announce your death?

How about the blasphemous 'Tim Finn's Wake'? Would you enjoy a funeral where people get into fights, splash whiskey on your corpse, and then you wake up after smelling the alcohol?

Forget it. No one wants you coming back to life.

She casually sings another song that pops into her mind.

The black clouds shroud the marsh and vales, the cold wind shrieks through the mounts and hills♪

At crack of dawn I see a traveler, who asked me the way to the golden field♪

The wayward wakewoman sings with a hoarse voice, dragging the burning coffin towards every inhabited part of the city she's familiar with.

She stops at every house, making sure that the purple flames reflect in their windows, that the elegy is heard inside.

The more she sings, the more intimately the flames envelop her body, overwhelming her sluggish senses and making every step feel like torturous labor.

But it also lets her hear even the smallest snippets of speech from every window.

Taran language classes, Kieran? That can't possibly be free, right?

At that price... Well, it's doable, as long as we cut down on the wine.

Bloody hell, Kieran! If I helped you more back then, could you have escaped the Victorians...?

Damned dark mist! If the Red Dragon won't drive it away, I'll do it myself!

The black clouds shroud the marsh and vales, the cold wind shrieks through the mounts and hills♪

At crack of dawn I see a traveler, who asked me the way to the golden field♪

Who is that? Nemos? What's she up to, singing in the middle of the night?

And what's that she's dragging, that burns so bright...?

Darling, even if you want to help the Taran cause, surely you don't have to join the army?

...Fine, I'll wait for you to come home, for the day we win our freedom.

Finally some quiet. Going on and on about how your hand hurts, when your whole arm's already gone! And it's not like screaming about it's going to get you any medicine.

If it was going to be like this, I wish you'd never come home. I'd rather spend my whole life missing you...

I said to him: poor chap, even I don't know how far you have to go♪

But if you wish, I'll go with you for a bit, towards the golden field♪

Isn't this a funeral song?

Those purple flames... Who is it mourning?!

What?! The enemies have entered the woods and are right outside the city?

I can't sit back and do nothing, Nemos. Where is the army recruiting? I'll take my weapons and go!

There is neither light nor any voice behind this window.

Turn right and pass by the palace, cross the river of fine wine♪

I'll share a cup by the riverside, before we return to the golden field road♪

Miss Nemos, will you be moving in with Mr. Culann after the war's over?

Aw, I was hoping there'd be someone other than me to cook for him...

Perhaps the most important thing to do before Her Highness returns... is to repair the workshop door.

(Sniffle)

I hope you find that golden field, and a home in flames you'll never yield♪

I'm sure you won't hesitate then, and complete your trip to the golden field♪

A wakewoman on the brink of death. Who does she think she's going to rouse with those songs?

When she can't even wake herself up.

But whatever happens, Brigid, oh silly child of my distant bloodline...

Don't come back.

This city isn't worth your life.

Nemos walks toward the last street she has yet to visit.

She has been through practically the entire city, and heard the simmering restlessness behind every door, but none of them have opened.

The wayward wakewoman gradually loses her grasp on her senses as her voice grows weaker. She has sung every song she knows, even the blasphemous 'Tim Finn's Wake,' from start to finish.

She has only one song left. She did not want to sing it, but now she has no other choice.

I stepped into the dark woods one morn, calling to the mists of hoar♪

I trod upon the road, heading out to war♪

Nemos...

Emma!

I almost couldn't recognize you, you're... still...

I'm not doing good, Nemos. I'll be dead soon. I just want to lie in bed and stop breathing.

My joints hurt, and my throat's burning. I'm even seeing people who aren't with us anymore.

But I heard your song, and saw the coffin! I'm on death's door already, so I figured why not come and see... *cough*, *cough*!

Where is the dark mist?