Wingless Illyrian

Part nineteen

Keena had in fact decided to spend the rest of her day climbing down the stairs from the house to the city. When Rhysand had told her that there were thousands of steps, she had thought he was joking. Yet the burning of her muscles was very real. Halfway down she wondered if it would be worth the pain to trip, and tumble down the remaining one. But her resolve was too strong, and she needed to get back into shape if she was to return to the camps for her training. That was if Devlon would allow her return after she had left without word. 

Cassian returned that night to find his daughter sitting on the bottom steps pulling her sleeves to cover her hands. He had seen the scars she was so adamant in hiding from them. His eyes had focused on them for hours while she slept. Wishing he had been there to stop the hurt she was feeling. 

"Were you going to walk back up before dinner?" He landed beside her with a back flap of his wings. 

"I need to shower. I just feel... I don't know, dirty." 

"I can carry you back if you don't want to walk, or I can start a bath for when you get back."

"Can you just walk with me for a bit, unless you're too tired?"

"Did you want to see the city, or go back up?"

"I don't think I want to see anyone just yet. Can we just go back up for dinner, just us?" 

"Azriel will be disappointed to not see you tonight. Between his missions, and you," he trailed off into unheard words. 

"Maybe dinner tomorrow."

"We don't want to pressure you, he understands."

"I want to see them more. I'm not the same little girl. I don't want them to be disappointed."

"Disappointed in you? Princess, we're all so proud of you. So happy to have you home again."

"We should go if we want to be back before dark," she said quietly. She knew that they wouldn't be mad, or disappointed in her. She knew that they were happy to be together again. But the words kept lingering in her mind. 'They'll never have someone so damaged.'

She had been broken. Her years of training disappearing in a moment of weakness. All the years of training to withstand any battle. Her mind had given out in months. The physical pain was manageable. Her mental shields crumbled under the pressure of time, reduced to ruins. Only parts of her mind remained her own, secured by Rhys's power and strength to protect the city. 

Keena and Cassian walked up the stairs in silence. Each entertaining the thoughts on their mind. 

It hadn't taken as long for them to walk up the stairs as it had to climb down. The sun had set and the house was plunged into darkness. Her hands trembled as she looked into the darkness. Not the comforting warm of Azriel's shadows, but the cold of a cell. The breath left her throat in a puff of hazy air. From the darkness she could have sworn something was watching her, a beast with glowing eyes. A predatory growl left the hair of her neck standing. 

She was frozen in place, locked by shackles that pierced her skin and stole the power from her veins. With each passing second the creature stepped towards her. And then it leaped. 

A scream left her lips as the lights in the house flicked on. 

She was in Cassian's arms, tears falling from her eyes. And on the other side of the room was Azriel, shadows swirling around his shoulders. He stared at her with a look in his eyes. 

"Az," she tried, but he had already left the house. "Dad, it wasn't him. I swear it wasn't. I saw,"

"It's okay, there's nothing to get you here, Kee. You're safe here."

"He's going to hate me."

"He's just upset, Kee. He'll be back soon."

Azriel wasn't back that night. He wasn't even back the next. And despite Keena asking after him, no one was able to give her a straight answer. 

Cassian had returned to the camps to talk to some of the less welcoming War Lords, those being the ones that would likely side with Hybern if the oncoming war were to arrive. 

Keena was alone in the house, and bored out of her mind having read through many of the books in the library, at least on the levels that she was given access to. Her power needed an output. Rhysand had slowly been retraining her in yielding the powers to understand their growth, but still disliked her practicing alone when she was so uncontrolled. Her emotions were heightened and with the dispute between her and Azriel, she needed a release. 

Without anyone to spar with, she winnowed to the camps, welcoming the scents that she had been accustomed to in her youth.