It was dark in the dungeons. The boy held his knees tight as he sat in the very corner of the cell. He held his sobs as the tears left his eyes, because one sound, one breath, would've attracted the rats who awaited to dug their teeth in his blood. They were blind. The boy realised when they walked away from him when he held his breath tight and threw a stone with his trembling withered arm outside the cell and they run towards it screeching and whipping their naked tails.
He sat silently day after day. Months, years. He stopped counting. No food or water. His father had no intention of sending either of those thing down here. Because they were fae, immortal beings made from the cauldron of the Mother, but fae felt pain. They felt hunger, thirst. They wouldn't die, but they would starve, wither, suffer like humans, and his father knew it when he locked him down here.
At least humans could die, the boy thought.
The rats screeched again, this right in front of the boy, its pointed nose sniffing the wicked stench that came out of him. The boy held his breath once again, shrivelled in the corner against the shadows, praying that the shadows could hide him.
The rat stepped closer and the boy nearly screamed but in a split of a second he found himself wrapped into a dark comforting veil...
The Illyrian mountains rose among the forest surrounding it, Azriel flew over them as he passed Ironcrest camp. The camp that Kallon ruled as Lord before loosing his life in the War against Hybern. Azriel remembered the War often, what everyone suffered, what he suffered. He remembered like it was yesterday how his wings tore in shreds when he infiltrated the Hybern Camp, when he flew as his wings bled while holding Elain tight against his chest...
He finally reached the tallest mountain, where Windhaven rose. Starting to descend, Azriel could make out the tents around the fire pits and the Illyrians who were training, not only Illyrians. His foot touched the hard ground silently as he always does and carried himself out of the shadows. Heads turned towards him, surprised to see him.
"Azriel," said a young Illyrian, as he jogged towards him from what seemed to be sparring, "How can I help you?"
"Fetch me Cassian, please."
"Yes, sir!" he said in a loud voice as he ran towards were the tent were set. He stared around the camp till the western side, where the Valkyries were. After Nesta's, Emerie's and Gwyn's success in the Blood Rite, more and more priestesses joined. He members how happy Feyre was when she found out, proud of her older sister. He stared more throughly and when in darkness you find a burst of light, Azriel saw her. Gwyn stood among girls. Her auburn hair moving in the mountain winds, her smile as radiant as he remembers it to be. He could hear, if he concentrated but just barely. Her mouth moving as if she sang songs of light...
He blinked coming to his senses, realising he'd been staring for seconds longer than he meant to.
"You were looking for me?" Cassian said as he flew down, he slammed into the ground as always making the entrance he clearly liked.
"Yes," he said as he turned back to Gwyn, she was instructing a girl on how to wield a sword, "We have orders,"
"Orders from Rhys?" Cassian said glancing at his siphons,
"No, Nyx," Azriel replied, his gaze still at Gwyn, he finally turned back to Cassian, who's expression was either troubled or annoyed, "Obviously, it's Rhys. Let's go."
*
Azriel flew over the ocean, the strong winds hitting him as he against the waves. The clouds were gray, covering every bit of the blue sky, barely letting sunlight through. It had been long since he flew over the oceans around the Night Court. His espionage work mostly revolved around Prythian, going to the seven courts and gather their intelligence, its secrets.
Today was different, today Rhys sent them to the oceans between the Night Court and Hybern. Something was happening against their borders, Rhys could sense it. After all his own barriers were there to protect the Court.
"What do you think will be there?" Cassian asked as he flew along him, Azriel looked far ahead, nothing was visible at the moment.
"Probably some Hybern soldiers trying to cross the borders,"
"So you think they crossed Rhys' borders?"
"I said trying,"
A hush fell among them,
"Have you heard about the letters from Drakon and Maryam?" Cassian asked,
"Yes, Rhys told me yesterday," Azriel responded, he then turned backwards, towards Cassian, "I've been meaning to ask, does Nesta know anything?"
"Huh? Why would she?" Cassian asked lifting an eyebrow,
"Isn't she bonded with the Cauldron or something?"
"She looked surprised when I told her," Cassian glanced back down to the ocean, staring at his flying reflection, "I... I don't think they're bonded anymore... After Nyx."
Right. Nesta exchanged her connection with the Cauldron, whatever she took from it, to save her younger sister's life during the birth of Nyx. They grew closer to the border now, sensing the barriers Rhys put up growing stronger as they flew. No damage to the barriers then, Azriel noted to himself, but he could sense something else, or someone else.
Cassian halted at the sight the same time Azriel did.
Right after the barriers, probably an inch after them, hundred of boats were situated. The antique wooden sailing design gave away that they were Hybern boats. There were people on them. Many, and they all stood chanting a certain phrase over and over again.
"Hand our monarch, hand our queen, hand back what you took from us in kin!"
They kept chanting in loud powerful voices, Azriel scanned the line of boats and found a certain boat ahead of the others by a small amount. A bigger boat, where a skinny man of average height stood. His skin pale, its hair black as his eyes and he wore dark gray robes. He was the only one who wasn't chanting,
"So who do you think is in charge?" Cassian asked looking over the parade, Azriel took flight towards the boat,
"There," he said as he stalked to it.
The chanting stopped as the two soldiers came upon eye level with the boats, the man in gray robes plastered a thin smile.
"If it isn't the Shadow Singer and the General of the Night Court," he rose his arms, welcoming, "How can we help you?"
Azriel lifted a brow at the sarcasm, Cassian chuckled, "How can you help us? How about you tell us what you're doing at the borders?"
The slim man turned towards the crowd, "What are we doing?" he said in his thin voice, "Trying to get a message across, a message that we longed to deliver for a while,"
He turned back to them, his eyes darker and bigger, "The Night Court took something from us, we want it back."
"I'm sorry, who are you?" Cassian asked, the man in gray robes stood straighter, he held his chin high as he spoke,
"I am Minth, monk of the Great Temple of Hybern,"
"And what exactly did we take from you?" Cassian asked, but Minth merely smiled and the crowd behind Minth started chanting once again,
"Hand our monarch, hand our queen, hand back what you took from us in kin!"
YOU ARE READING
A Court of Golden Shadows
Fantasía"I woke up in a field of flowers once again. The petals of the colour of violet, lilac, rose. As the sun descended, the sky changed its colours. I watched as a smears of violet painted in the pink sky. Where warriors flew in their winged horses...
