This is the conclusion of the flash fiction sequence I read in St. Louis. As such, it does finish the arc, but since these drabbles have only been the skeleton of a story, without all the pieces filed in, excerpts featuring these characters will still be posted out of chronological order from time to time.


We watched from behind walls of glass smoke as a dark shade fell over the highest chamber of the Great Hall. Mithal was now in the full splendor of his true form, and Wathanni appeared as a skeletal dragon made of fire. At last the dragon leapt into the air and spewed fire over Mithal as it descended. Mithal lunged into the flames, reaching out his arms to strangle the beast. As their forms grew closer their bodies exploded into streams of text that whirled around each other like two dueling tornados of words. Stories and statements flew past my eyes too quick to read, moving faster and faster until the two cyclones merged in a pillar that rose from the floor to the ceiling in the middle of the room. A single sheet of torn parchment flew out of the plume, followed shortly by two more, then a handful, and soon volumes were scattering themselves on the floor. When the floor was nearly covered a light flickered in the tornado, and the pages flew all at once into the column. There was a burst of scorching wind as they all came together and the tornado vanished. Only Mithal was left standing.

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