At the Foot of the Dragon Stair

A story about monasteries, history and destiny in the midst of world devastation.

The entire time they were walking towards the Dragon Stairs, Giền said nothing. She merely changed shape in Thanh Lan’s arms–not growing heavier and heavier, which Thanh Lan could have understood, but by turns lighter and heavier, her shape shimmering between ten thousand different ones: a dragon, a Maw soldier–a faceless, helmed countenance with the Maw’s spiral emblem on their forehead–, an elderly woman who could have been Thanh Lan’s mother. Every one of them kept only the three dots on the nape: the connection ports, once faintly visible, now more and more distinct as Giền grew weaker and weaker.

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