A Court of Shorts and Storys

The Rite: Part 1

This one started as a short little fun idea. "How would Rhys and Feyre react when Nyx is in the rite?" It ended up being a 4 part long story that I am actually quite proud of. 

Part one and two will come today, Part three and four tomorrow!

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The Rite: Part 1 - Clouds 

This must be a mistake, Nyx needed to be here somewhere. But his bed was cold, and Rhys had a sinking fealing that it was not because he had gotten up extra early. Rhys took a deep breath, calming the fear formed by the realisation of where his son was. He was gone, not dead, but gone. Like a shield had been placed around him, keepin him hiden and

Feyre... He send out over the bond, not sure how to tell her this... She needed to know, and then... Then he needed to talk to Devlon. Rhys stretched out his wings. Not talk... Scream at him.

Yes? What is it? His mates words almost broke his heart.

I... You must come to the camps. He couldn't say it over the bond.

Is it Nyx? Her voice filed with fear and down the bond a wave of it came. Passing over Rhys to the point he stumbled.

Yes... He looked at his sons empty bed, and the wage sent of an illyrian male in the room. And outside, the last stars faded as the morning sun came. And in the distance he could see Ramiels peak, and the three stars that crowned it. The blood rite had started, and Nyx had been taken. Without being ready.

"Is he injured?" Feyre said the moment she landed in the house. Rhys closed his eyes and braced himself against the tabel.

"They took him..." He started, fealing how the room became to small for his powers. "They took him to the rite." He cudent meet her eyes, cudent bare the shame for taking Nyx with him to the camps. He should have known that this week was that week...

"Nyx..." Feyre only whispered and it broke his heart even more.

"This is my fault..." Rhys said, Accepting any blame she needed to put on him. "I am sorry Feyre..." The door slammed shut and she was gone. Down the bond all he could sense was her anger, burning like fire. Rhys let a tear fall down and then he followed. Getting ready to talk to Devlon, but outside he heard that his mate had the same idea.

"WHY!" She roared the the Camp lord, in her hands fire burned and on her back Illyrians wings had materialised. "He is not even 18 yet!" she held her hand dangerously close to Devlons neck. Rhys cudent help but to feal a hint of a smile, that was his mate.

"I don't know what you are talking about." The camp lord said, fear filed his voice. Rhys walked up to him lifting him up with his powers.

"Do. Not. Lie. To. Her." He growled. "Where is my son?"

"I don't know." Devlon repeated. Rhys had had enough. He moved in towards his mind, breaking down the paper thin walls and saw what he was thinking.

"You didn't send him in." Rhys said, and letting go of the male. For a moment the world stoped. Who... Why... It didn't make any sense... Noting in the world made sense... He had almost lost Nyx before, and been so scare to do so again for so long. And now... He was only 17, only a week away from turning 18 years from being ready to participate in the Rite. Rhys him self had been 24 when he had done the rite. Most of the novices was around that age, Nyx... Nyx was to young, to inexperienced. Skilled, yes, he and Cassian had trained him well, but he was not there yet. He was still to sloppy, to impulsive. His magic had just settled and started to stabalice. Nyx had years before he was ready for the rite. And now he was in it.