Rattle the Stars

Chapter 5

sO. Rowan and Co. will be coming back this chapter! I know this is earlier than most fanfics, but I don't know how long this story will be, and for progression, our favorite territorial fae need to be present

No. It was impossible. Impossible. Amren, beside Aelin, had gone equally pale, her wan lips forming silent words in a language she didn't know. The Inner Circle was staring, appalled at the reaction to a simple ring of stone. Amren took a step back, putting several feet of distance between herself and the Wyrdstone.

Aelin was tempted to join her. But she wouldn't run. Not when her family was back in Erilea, facing this same problem everywhere they turned. The letter, the main focus of the original message, lay forgotten in the candlelight. So instead, she took a breath, and said "That- is a Wyrdstone ring. No one touch it."

Small gasps ran around the table, Cassian planting his hands flat on the wood. "You mean those rings that the Kings use to control the Valt?"

"It's Valg." Amren corrected. "I think we now have bigger things to worry about than getting you home, Aelin." She held the letter in steady hands. "This letter- it reeks of powerful Valg. Somehow- somehow, they must have found to worldwalk like Maeve did. To get into another world besides Erilea. So they came for this one- that they know I'm in." The unspoken words lingered. The kings. The Valg Kings could possibly be here.

Aelin couldn't help a stab of empathy and pity for the millennia old queen. She was different than any Valg she had ever met, and had tried so hard to turn her life around. Yet here they were.

"Well," She said slowly, reaching for the letter. Once it was in her hands, even the embers inside her recoiled. The very essence sang of the Valg. It could have been residue from the ring, but it still made Aelin stand up straighter, taking a deep breath.

She slid open the envelope, the letter sliding away. The short, cryptic message, was written in Wrydmarks- an archival variation that Aelin could barely read. Amren snatched it away, growing even paler as she read. Her hands didn't tremble, but she was taking slow, deep, breaths.

Azriel was nearly completely cloaked in shadows as the Valg Queen read the letter, bone white. In all of one moment, the letter slipped from her, and Amren braced herself against the table. "So..." Aelin said slowly, ignoring the sinking feeling staining her stomach.

"Do you remember when Orcus came to find Maeve?" The feeling increased ten fold as the meaning of those words sank in.

Her tone held enough disgust and fear to portray her feelings on the topic. "Well," A long, heavy, sorrowful pause. 

"Mantyx has decided it's time to finally take back his wife." The world dropped out from beneath Aelin, leaving her swinging on open air.

Rowan

Rowan was on his knees, both Aedion and Dorian standing with a hand on each of his shoulders. That bond between them- it was fading, fading- fading as the figure of his Fireheart was fading. Her magic was pouring out, in crimson and gold and blue, weaving around her in a fiery web. Strands of pure fiery light, bobbing and twisting. 

He wanted to scream, to yell, to tell her to stop.

Her golden hair was shimmering in it's light, both terrible and beautiful as she faded around the edges. His only hope lay in those Wyrdmarks in her tattoo, the ones he had so slowly etched. To bring his mate home. That bond between them had been forged out of not just being mates and carranam, but out of pain and love and sorrow.

And it was stretched thinner than he had ever felt it.

A final, desperate tug, and Aelin's magic flared up in a flame, burning an searing hi eyes enough he had to blink spots. When it faded away, the world was left hollow. His world was hollow. That bond was no more. Aelin was no more. His vision blurred, and tears poured down his face as the pain hit, only solidifying what he already knew.

Gone. Yet another twist the gods had thrown him. Behind him, he could hear the other's sobs, his own magic roiling in answer. Distantly, he knew that if anyone came near him, they would be blocked by a shield of ice. A shield- much like the one he taught Aelin to make at Mistward, months ago.

All of a sudden, behind him, Aedion shouted something unintelligible. He didn't care what the general had to say. Rowan didn't even know if he could stand to look at those eyes, that hair. He had failed. He had failed, and his Fireheart wasn't coming home.

A fist rapped on the icy shield. "Rowan! Rowan, you have to get up." It was Lysandra. He didn't respond, only felt another tear roll. "Rowan! You have to get up. She would have wanted you-" Her voice choked in a sob. "She would have wanted you to get up, and keep living without her."

Silence, before the shifter spoke again. "We all miss her. And I'm sorry." Slowly, the icy shield melted, leaving him on the ground. Aedion and Dorian had been pushed away when his shield went up, but Rowan stood and turned to them. He could feel the stares of everyone on him, assesing and weighing.

They all stood in silence for long moments, while Rowan desperately tried to re-order his own existence. Dorian sensed it first, and he did as well, only moments later. Power. Pure, pulsing, power, coming from the rift in the world that Aelin had created.

Contrary to what Rowan had thought, it hadn't sealed. Instead, a swirling slash in the universe's fabric hung instead. Through it, flashes of worlds flew by, showing him towers and oceans and mountains. Different worlds. A portal. A portal.

The same Wyrdmark he had created, had inked on Aelin, was flashing on the ground beneath it. He took a step forward, then another, before he kneeled by it. He knew- knew that he had to go through. His magic was basically dragging him, begging him to go through.

The others had noticed what was happening, and most likely had guessed what Rowan was going to do.

To his surprise, it was Lorcan who grabbed his elbow. "Whitethorn. Nothing will bring her back. She's gone. There's no point in throwing yourself into a mysterious portal-" Rowan threw him off, snarling. 

"You don't understand." The words were ragged, broken. "That is the Wyrdmark I made to let her come back. When she was thrown in there-" He gestured wildly at the portal. "That would take her back." 

Silence reigned. 

Lysandra stepped forward, her eyes clear despite the tears. "I'll go." Aedion tensed but agreed. Fenrys was next, along with Chaol and Dorian. The latter caused a stir because Dorian needed to be there to rule Adarlan, and someone needed to lead the armies.  

Rowan was growing more and more impatient. He was moments away from lunging through the portal. 

Finally, they decided on a group of 4. Rowan, Fenrys, Aedion, and Lysandra. Everyone else needed to stay behind because of their leadership positions. Aelin's court stared at the portal. Before Lysandra said "I swear if we don't go through right now-" 

Rowan had already stepped into it. He wouldn't accept that Aelin was dead. 

And he was heading home. Home, because his home was not where he lived or breathed, but where Aelin was. 

He was heading home. 

Yeah.... this is more Rowan than Aelin, but hey. It needed to be done xD. Hopefully, you enjoyed! Feedback is always welcome! (Also, I'm entering this into the Summer of the Wild Contest, so fingers crossed for that.)