Requiem

Requiem! May our wings forever find your sky. It is a prayer and a battle-cry both, sung by a people who wear two shapes — one that walks and one that flies. This is a world where men and women become dragons, and Requiem is their kingdom: a green land ringed by enemies, forever hunted for the fire in its blood. To be Vir Requis is to be beautiful and damned, to raise scaled wings against neighbors who would see the whole race scoured from the earth and its dragons remembered only as ash. Daniel Arenson tells that long history across seven linked trilogies, some twenty-nine volumes spanning five thousand years of the kingdom's founding, ruin, and stubborn rebirth. Dawn of Dragons opens at the beginning of things; Song of Dragons, Dragonlore, The Dragon War, Requiem for Dragons, Flame of Requiem, and Requiem: Dragonfire Rain each carry a new generation through its own war. Every trilogy stands whole on its own, yet all share one bloodline, one homeland, and one recurring dread — that the dragons of Requiem might be the last of their kind. Expect grief as much as glory. These are books of siege and slaughter, of a small people holding one candle against an overwhelming dark, written plain and swift and soaked in fire — closer to war-elegy than to comfortable epic. Arenson counsels reading in the world's own chronology, beginning with Dawn of Dragons; those who would rather start where the saga first took wing can open Song of Dragons instead. Either way, the prayer does not change.