Persephone, heartbroken and overwhelmed with newfound power, mistakingly winnows herself into the heart of the broken Spring Court. Thrust into a flurry of High Lords, unrequited mates, and the oncoming war against Hybern, Persephone must decide who...
In the dark, she could only make out the wide whites of her mother's eyes. Usually soft, and peering at her with adoration, that night they were glossed over with a sheen of fear; a doe before its death.
Her mother placed one finger to her lips as she gripped Persephone's hand and pulled her out of her bed. The cold winter air nipped at them through their thin nightgowns as they made their way through their small cottage.
Persephone didn't ask her mother what they were doing - why they were tiptoeing towards the back door. She already knew why. She had seen fear like this in her mother's eyes once before. On the eve of her twelfth birthday, the day that the Illyrians slaughtered her father. She was sixteen now and knew better than to waste precious time asking questions.
Her mother's grip on her wrist was steadfast as they slipped outside their cottage and sprinted towards the woods. Persephone heard the familiar, unmistakable sound of wings and turned her head.
As they stepped foot into the thicket of trees, a band of Illyrians landed at the door of their cottage. The men were enormous and powerful. Armed to the teeth, their wings batted fiercely under the moonlight. The tallest out of the band turned his head and his eyes met hers. He bared his teeth.
She froze. She knew who he was. She knew he had finally found them.
"Hurry Persephone," her mother whispered as she tugged on her wrist. They continued to plunge through the dark woods.
Persephone could hardly see the messy tangle of roots on the wood floor as she ran. Her long wings provided her with stability as she twisted and tumbled. But she still struggled to follow after her mother. Her throat burned and her legs ached. After years of living safely, she had forgotten how to run from danger. It seemed as though her body had forgotten too.
Persephone collapsed to her knees from exhaustion, heaving for breath.
Her mother spun around and rushed to her daughter, her face creased with worry and fear.
"Persephone, we have to run, we don't have far to go,"
Persephone could hardly lift her head as she looked up at her mother. "I'm scared," she whispered. Her young face was careened in anxiety, eyes full of dread.
Her mother's eyes softened as she brushed her palm over her daughter's cheek. "I know darling, but we have to be brave now. We have to keep running until we reach the clearing,"
Persephone nodded and her mother tugged her back to her feet. They ran. On and on. Time dissolved away as the woods became more viscous and the sky became golden. Persephone knew where they were running too. They had to cross out of the Illyrian territory.
Morning rays warmed Persephone's stony face as they eventually made it out of the woods. Above them, mountains towered towards the sky.
She stopped to catch her breath and smiled, they had made it out. They were in Velaris territory, Illyrians were not allowed to touch them here.
She turned towards her mother as the sound of wings rushed into her ears. The ground trembled under her feet as they landed. The Illyrians assembled a circle around her mother and her, grinning as they closed in on them.
Her mother turned to face her. Her beautiful face was full of unadulterated horror. She went to reach for her when she froze.
Persephone shrieked as the Illyrian pulled the blade out of her mother's neck. Blood splattered on Persephone's face. It was warm. With a scream, she ran and grabbed her mother as she tumbled to the ground.
"Be strong Persephone Wraith," her mother whispered as the light began to leave her eyes, "You are destined for spring and war. You will avenge our family."
As the words left her mouth, her mother succumbed to her wounds. Persephone tilted back her head and screamed. Her scream was so guttural that the Illyrians froze as they scrutinized the young, winged child. They found themselves immobile, held in place by some unseen power, as Persephone got to her feet. Her dark hair fanned out around her as she threw out her hands and screamed again. And again.
The Illyrians became soot and ash and blood as they all exploded.
Persephone fell back to her knees and crawled towards her mother's body. She gripped her mother's cold, white face and wailed. She was all alone now. No mother. No father. Why did the Illyrians hate their kind so much? Why did they take everything from her?
Anguish and power-filled Persephone's very being as she cradled her mother's body. Tears flowed down her cheeks as her body shook with sobs. She didn't look up as more Illyrians landed in the clearing. She didn't budge as they took in the blood-soaked earth and advanced toward her.
She shut her eyes and let her power consume her.
Persephone screamed. She prayed to escape. She wailed for freedom. She wished for a life that wasn't so filled with death and fear.
Persephone winnowed.
And when she awoke, she erased everything in her mind until the tears and fear stopped. Her wings and memories dissolved as she became anew.
Persephone appeared on the streets of the Court of Nightmares. And as the years passed by, the girl born for spring and war forgot everything.
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