Nyx | Carpe Noctem ✓

Chapter 19: Drawing and Some Faerie Magic

∙ Madis POV ∙

"Welcome to my studio!" Feyre beamed, guiding me into a big painting room. It was now two days after the first time I had left my room and I decided that I was open for another new thing. Some drawing it would be.
My mouth dropped open when looked around in awe. So many canvases. Brushes. Colours. Paints. Pencils.
I gasped, many times, eyes wandering through the room.

"And this is all your work of art?" I breathlessly asked, looking at the High Lady with big eyes. I turned around once more and looked at all the amazing pantings.

"These here, yes"—Feyre turned, pointing to the right side of the studio before turning to the left— "these ones......they are Nyx's."

"He paints?" I asked, obviously surprised.

The High Lady nodded, grinning. "But only in secret lately. Only when everything gets too much for him and he needs to get his mind of things," she told me. Yes, I understood that.
"After the Blood Rite he painted for three days without a break. We were getting quite worried after some time, but it helped him."

I nodded but soon shook my head, perplexed. "What the bloody hell is a Blood Rite?" I blurted out. So Feyre did some explaining. She explained everything about Illyrians, the war camps, a mountain called Ramiel and hence also everything about the Blood Rite. Apperently, Nyx, Noora and two guys called Arkon and Loran had won the thing and had been able to call themselves Carynthian from then on. I had no idea what that meant and how special this actually was.

"That sounds bloody barbaric!" I huffed and Feyre chuckled. "It is. But it is necessary to keep the Illyrians under control." Alright?

Feyre guided me over to a smaller canvas. "Here, sit and paint whatever you like," she said, handing me some colours and a brush. I had no idea what to paint, but I thanked her. "Oh, and here is a pencil if you prefer to draw with that."

I grabbed the pencil, smiling at her. I preferred drawing. I had never painted before.

Feyre took her seat at the other hand of the room, humming and starting to paint already. I spun around on my chair and looked at her, examining her features.

She lifted her gaze and met mine, waiting for me to speak. "Why are you fae? You said you were mortal once. What happened?" I carefully asked in a low voice.

Feyre smiled and closed her eyes for a second. "Have you heard of Amarantha?" I dipped my chin, remembering her name from the History books. And then—

"Gods, you are Feyre Cursebreaker?!"
Throwing her head back, said person laughed loudly. I felt really stupid.

"Oh, gods. That makes sense now. I mean we did not learn that much about you or anything, but there were a few pages on Amarantha, the war and Hybern in the books." Feyre nodded in acknowledgement and then told me just a few things about how she first came to live in the Spring Court and then moved to the Night Court after Amarantha. I had a faint inkling that she had left out major parts of the story, but I decided that that was fine.

Then I decided to finally really draw. I stared at the canvas. I was so empty, I had no idea what to draw. I moved my hand to the canvas and drew one line. And now? Now what?

But then I drew another line. And another one. I connected them and added a swirl here and there. I first thought of a dress, but that thought quickly vanished. The thing got more form and I drew more and more. I brushed my thumb over it to smudge the edges. I added shadows, lighter parts and teeth. Claws. I added more lines, darkened the background.

I put the pencil down and wiggled my fingers since my hand had started hurting. But soon I picked up the pencil again and continued. I furrowed my brows, bit my lip, pouting. My other hand was braced on my thigh and I glowered at the drawing, the pencil dropping out of my hand.