A Court of Flames and Myths

Ch6: Weight

Azriel was in a comfortable bed, how he got here he didnt really care. When his eyes cracked open he saw that he was not in his bed but a spare bedroom of the River House. His shadows surged around his body, blanketing him even in the morning sun that peeked through the curtains. There was a faint saltiness that hung in the air. It mingled with the lemon verbena and spice that had always enveloped Velaris.

"You're awake," Mor breathed a sigh of relief as she sat on the edge of the bed. Her voice was dry and her tan face was still void of color. He remembered that she fell to her knees and had been crying the moment they had seen that female on the table. He couldn't find the energy to move, his senses were fried on every end. "She figured you are going to be tired for another hour or two. Madja was here when I brought you back, we had to knock you out. I have never seen you so-" Each sentence was a statement until she cut herself off from rambling on.

He noticed then that there was no screaming in his head. There was silence. Dread washed over him at that realization. His golden friend noticed the slight response in his face and how his shadows tensed. "You blew out your siphons Az, all of them," she paused. "Then your shadows consumed your body. Madja said that level of raw magic could have torn you apart from the inside. Cassian went to pick up new ones, when he gets back they should help with the unease some."

Well that made sense, his body felt like a lead brick. So he ran through the past hour in his mind, which was also in splinters. He had always considered his shadows a comforting power that rested on him like a second skin. Nothing like what had happened. He remembered what that raw magic felt like. It had started building the closer they got to the cursed library in that bone castle. The screaming in his head had turned to soft sobbing too. The power was burning through his veins when he caught a faint wisp of lavender, cedar or embers and vanilla. Any point of contact with his siphons was burned he knew. They had struggled to manage that strange influx of power and just failed when her broken and burning gaze met his. The ground had shifted underneath him, like his center of gravity was no longer underneath him but in front of him. That primal instinct and the magic had combined and it shattered his siphons. Without that small tether of control on the 500 years of rage and pain that fueled the heart of his magic, it boiled his body until he stepped out of that darkness. That female's burning eyes like a lighthouse through that mist. His mate.

"Are you okay?" Mor asked. True concern was on her face when she looked up from her hands and those deep chocolate eyes met his. Why did she look so upset?

"Are you?" he coughed.

"I thought that what we saw and went through in the war was his worst. I wish we could kill the king all over again." Indeed the shadows that lurked behind her eyes were ones that had lingered for the past centuries. The brutality that Mor, this bright unfathomable female, had gone through was abhorrent and the retribution for her pain was a sword he had been waiting to swing since they had all met each other.

"My sentiments exactly." Feyre bit out as she came into the room. Her eyes were gentle, if not red and puffy, as she looked upon the Shadowsinger in bed. If she was back, then - Azriel tried to sit up and coughed again, a sharp ache punching through his chest. "Easy now," his High Lady cooed. "She is alright, Madja is with her now. Azriel I-I don't know where to begin."

Mor sensed the despair in her tone and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze before leaving. Alone with Feyre, Azriel tried to calm his breathing and right his mind. It was spinning. Not from pain, but trying to process the change that had cracked through his court this morning. "Her name is Carina," she stated, smiling down at him sadly. The female's name was like a song ringing through his very soul. His mate. He took another deep breathe. "I know a fraction of what you must be feeling right now Az. I suggest though, that we all proceed slowly in working towards a recovery. How you handle this when you are back on your feet is entirely your choice. What I saw, what she went through," Feyre paused. "Azriel she has a long road ahead of her just to be able to walk again." Gods how long had she been a decoration on that table? What had the King done to her?