A Court of Light and Melody

Chapter 64 - Just Died

"I have always found that mercy bears richer fruits than strict justice."

- Abraham Lincoln

Song: (I Just) Died in Your Arms - Hidden Citizens

Azriel shot up into the sky, still orange with the setting sun. He held Gwyn bridal style, clutching her close to him.

The sparking sensation in her chest had ended the moment they'd been reunited, but was slowly resurfacing with every minute they hovered above the battlefield. She knew what it was. It was their bond sending a message. A message to stay together. Somehow she knew that and so did Azriel.

He dodged an arrow then another. "Whatever you're planning on doing, please feel free to bring me up to speed at any point, my love."

"You determine the might of your magic, not the other way around."

"Get me directly over the top of them," Gwyn said, wrapping her arms tighter around his neck. "And then shut your eyes."

Azriel seemed to grasp her meaning and shot forward a bit more. He dodged another arrow and ducked under a soaring barbed net.

Gwyn searched for her magic, seized the singing in her blood and the thundering beat of her heart. She felt it claw its way up her throat while the setting sun seemed to wait with bated breath.

"Whenever you're ready, songbird," Azriel said, wearing that same quiet encouragement she had first seen all those months ago when she cut the ribbon. Then he shut his eyes.

Gwyn hooked one arm around her mate's neck, leaning her chest outwards so she could draw in the deepest possible breath.

And when Gwyn exhaled, a thousand voices sang with her. Bright, ringing, mezzo-sopranos.

Gwyn's body filled with a savoring heat and out of the corner of her eyes, she could see her skin glow. Glow as bright as it had the day they'd escaped the Archeron estate. Then brighter still.

Sure enough, the battlefield below slowed as everyone searched for the source of this second sun. The one that had risen in the place of the sun that was setting. The sun that was singing.

And they found her.

Gwyn's lungs burned, she stopped her singing and took another deep breath, clinging to the hum of her magic.

"And remember, I've seen it. You can do this. You can make them bend."

As her skin began to dim, Gwyn grasped the magic simmering inside of her, praying that Elain's visions were as reliable as she claimed. She focused on the intent behind her next command, imagining it, willing it into existence as she shouted: "Bend!"

The moment the word left her lips, Gwyn's vision blurred. Her power... it was not intended to be used like this. She could feel the wrongness of what she'd just done. It resonated through her like the strumming of an untuned guitar. Lightsinger compulsion was meant for seduction, entrapment. Not mass commands.

Her well of magic was fast depleting from the abuse of her power, but she had just a little bit left in her. Just a drop more.

That was fine. That was all she needed.

"Gwyn," Azriel said, his eyes now open. She felt his fingers dig into her as he pulled her body flush against his.

"One more," she said softly, trying to save her voice. "I can do this."

Azriel's hazel eyes studied her face and after a moment, he nodded, kissed her brow, and descended. They landed in the middle of the battlefield where every soldier was slowly sinking to one knee. Just as Rhysand, Feyre, and Tamlin had pretended to earlier.