Kingdom of Ash (Throne of Glass, #7)

by Sarah J. Maas

Flowers still existed. In this world, this hell, flowers bloomed somewhere.

“We came,” Manon said, loud enough that all on the city walls could hear, “to honor a promise made to Aelin Galathynius. To fight for what she promised us.” Darrow said quietly, “And what was that?” Manon smiled then. “A better world.”

And it was not darkness, but light—light, bright and pure as the sun on snow, that erupted from Asterin. Light, as Asterin made the Yielding. As the Thirteen, their broken bodies scattered around the tower in a near-circle, made the Yielding as well. Light. They all burned with it. Radiated it. Light that flowed from their souls, their fierce hearts as they gave themselves over to that power. Became incandescent with it. Asterin tackled the Blackbeak Matron to the ground, Manon’s grandmother little more than a shadow against the brightness. Then little more than a scrap of hate and memory as Asterin exploded. As she and the Thirteen Yielded completely, and blew themselves and the witch tower to smithereens.

Not a trace of the Thirteen, or their brave, noble wyverns. Manon fell to her knees. Ashes rose, fluttering, soft as snow as they clung to the tears on her face. Abraxos lay beside her, his tail curling around her while she bowed over her knees and wept.

“Be the bridge, be the light. When iron melts, when flowers spring from fields of blood—let the land be witness, and return home.”