Shadow Queen - Azriel x oc

↳ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 12 - ᵃⁿᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵐᵉ

゜✧*̣̩☽⋆SHADOW QUEEN✧*̣̩☽⋆゜

𝒜𝓃𝑜𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓂𝑒

The first time Azriel saw Sombra, he was more than awestruck. He couldn't describe what he felt. It was like seeing starlight in person, yet he thought he was staring into the eyes of Night, the same darkness that had once brought him comfort and produced his shadows made flesh.

He had been at Wind Heaven camp, as miserable as always, having been here for little over a year, and Caspian the prick was beating the shit out of him for clothes. He wasn't allowed to use his shadows, not that they would help much. He didn't know how to use them for his benefit. They were more like noises in his head all day.

The other Illyrian had a reputation for taking others' clothes after winning. For his age, he was bulking up. Surely, he would be a great warrior in the future. But Azriel couldn't stand him.

If he could just quiet his mind for a second, he would be able to concentrate for once.

"Aye, don't you think you've made your point?"

The pressure on top of him was removed, and Azriel felt he could breathe normally again. It wasn't that Cassian was too heavy for him. Still, Azriel was always alert, his mind going haywire after the shadows murmured their findings. Now, there was none of that. Most importantly, the pressure on his head lifted as well.

What?

It was all quiet.

This isn't possible.

He lifted his head to see what all the fuss was about and saw Cassian-the-prick, hence Caspian, on the ground next to him with a smokey tentacle wrapped around his middle.

Shadows were dancing around booted feet. It was inevitable, but his own sprung from around his shoulders and instantly met the others. He had never seen shadows like his before.

Regular shadows looked transparent to him, too rigid.

But his shadows, and these, were of the deepest black and curved and swirled around.

His gaze followed the long legs that wore said boots past a curvy body and fixed upon the pools of liquid starlight staring right back at him.

"I didn't know there was another shadowsinger in this camp."

The female, given by the pointed ears that peaked underneath the lightest strands of hair, offered him a hand.

I thought there weren't any other shadowsingers. He wanted to say. But the other brute beat him to speaking.

"Woah, that was amazing." He had been freed from the shadow-like rope wrapped around his body and proceeded to dust off his clothes. "I'm going to marry you one day for that, lady."

The female looked over her shoulder at the young Illyrian and then back at the one in front of her who hadn't accepted her help. She pointed with her eyes to her hands, and Azriel took it as a sign to stand up.

Sombra wanted to see the other shadowsinger with her own two eyes. Azriel wasn't the only one who hadn't met one of themselves in their lifetime. He was so young, and his shadows were out of control by what she could gather.

"We'll see when you're older—" Her sentence was cut short when their hands met, a soft gasp escaping her lips. A familiar burn was on the back of her hands, and she froze when she looked at the hand encased in hers.

Azriel's hands were scarred.

Just like-

No.