i say- but he 's staring at the wall of flame down the riverbed- and then we hear it- a tearing sound , like the air being ripped in two , approaching from behind us- 1017- off his battlemore and on foot- racing towards the flames , which are already decreasing on the bare rocks- leaving burning piles of ash- like on the battlefield before when the spackle shot the fire bolts- except this time it 's just two- 1017 races for them , his noise making a sound more horrible , more full of rage and grief than anything i 've ever heard in my entire life- as he rushes towards the blackened corpses of the sky and his battlemore- ( the return ) i run- no thought in my head- no sound in my voice except a wail i can barely hear myself- a wail demanding that it be taken back- a wail refusing to believe what i have seen , refusing to accept what has happened- i am only vaguely aware of the clearing and the source as i run by them- vaguely aware of the roar forming in my ears , in my head , in my heart- in my voice- the rocks in the riverbed still burn but the fire is lifting off them even as i approach , so this attack was a waste in terms of setting more things ablaze- but not a waste because it clearly had a single target- i plunge into the flames , feeling them blister my skin , some of the rocks blazing red as coals- but i do not care- i reach where the sky was riding his beast- reach where he has fallen to the stones- where he and the beast still burn- and i am beating at the flames , trying to put them out with my bare hands , the wail getting louder , reaching beyond me , out of me , out into the world , out into the land , trying to erase everything that has happened- and i grab under the sky 's burning arms and pull him from his burning steed- and i show it out loud , no !