A Delicate Darkness | AZRIEL (ACOTAR)

v. dreams, and dreams shattered

DREAMS, AND DREAMS SHATTERED

THE CASTLE WAS AS AURORIA KNEW IT TO BE: beautiful, orderly, and unforgiving.

She followed the silent corridor's trail, footsteps light and curious, at the end of which were a set of heavy double doors that led into the Grand Gallery. Portraits of her ancestors kept her company, and as she passed them, their eyes followed. She could feel their stare, heavy and dark, but there was... something else. An itch begging to be satisfied. And it lay beyond the doors.

They were normally left wide open in the day, available for her perusal, but today... they were left ajar, and Auroria had to squeeze her slender frame through.

She emerged into a corner of the gallery that was eclipsed by shadow, just shy of touching the sunlight that dreamed through the series of large ceiling-to-floor windows.

Auroria paused. The air felt heavy. Anxiety clamped around her heart for a reason she knew not.

Slivers of rainbow bounced off the golden walls and onto a small crowd in the middle, a crowd she recognised to be father and brothers.

"Father?" She moved to say, but no sound came out.

Her family was uncharacteristically quiet — no, not quiet. Silent. In fact, everything was silent. No gentle song of the birds outside, nor the rustle of crispy leaves, nor the clink of cutlery against plates down in the kitchens.

Foreboding silence, as the woodland creatures oft fell into when there was an apex predator in their prowling the area.

And despite that, her family was as Auroria knew them to be: air of arrogance, heads held high, their fiery-red hair the glistening hilt of a tempered sword.

They circled something, a silhouette that Auroria couldn't quite see. Eris' mouth moved as if he spoke but no words came out. To his right, Malachi and Virgil restrained Lucien by the shoulders — they, too, spoke but no voices floated into Auroria's ears. Caius and Nostrus flanked the chair, the silhouette slumped on it, whilst Oberon stood beside Father.

Father drew near Lucien and Auroria's noticed a glint in her father's gaze that reminded her of how he'd look at her mother or how he'd look at anyone that opposed him. The High Lord said something before Virgil kicked the back of Lucien's knees, sending him falling to his knees. He dropped his head, letting his red locks fall in front of his face.

Though she couldn't see his face, Auroria sensed a wave of defeat emanate from Lucien, an emotion her favourite brother had never once displayed. She inched closer, trying to get a glimpse, a better picture, but they were all too broad. Too tall.

Eris moved slightly as if to protest and it surprised Auroria to see defiance in his eyes. Eris. The eldest, the son the whole Court projected to be Beron's successor whose wit and tongue were as sharp as the sword he'd slain many with and whose obedience to their father was known to all. But one glare from Beron was enough to make him freeze.

And so Eris watched, watched with the rest of the Vanserra children as the High Lord waved a hand and a ball of flame engulfed the silhouette in the middle.

The fire grew and grew, its blaze licking the bottom of the chandelier above. It took a life of its own, heat kissing their faces and its inferno reflecting in their eyes.

And then, nothing.

Malachi and Virgil released Lucien. He scrambled to the silhouette in the middle.

And Jesminda was no longer as Auroria knew her, burnt to nothing but cinders and ash.