A Court of Secrets and Moonlight

18: First Touch

Azriel

Windhaven Camp, 521 years ago

I didn't realize just how much there was to the world beyond the darkness.

It had been so quiet, just me and the song of my shadows. It was all I ever had, and I spent so long wishing for more. I wanted anything but the taunts and laughter of my brothers, the cruel voice of my stepmother, anything but pain, anything but darkness. Now, I feared I might have wished for too much.

I suppose I hadn't realized that the Illyrian camps were constantly making noise. The clash of swords, the sound of footsteps on frozen ground, the crackling of a fire. I didn't realize just how much information my shadows could glean about everyone I met, how many sights and sounds and colors there were to the world. It was overwhelming, and at the same time I couldn't get enough.

It didn't take long for me to grab the attention of the two boys sitting around me. I was younger than them, yes, but my shadows were rare enough to make anyone notice me. They were scrappy assholes, Cassian and Rhysand, but not in the way my brothers were. Every fight felt like they were pushing me to improve, not torturing me for fun. They had spent hours teaching me to fly, doing everything they could think of to coax me from this shell I had created. But it was comfortable here, with just my shadows and I. Perhaps it was fear that kept me quiet.

One wrong move, one wrong word, and I could end up right back in the darkness. I don't know if I could go back, not now that I know what constant warmth and light felt like.

I supposed too much was better than too little.

Hashna knew my mother, and the moment she saw me she brought me in. She was kind and beautiful- and she could fly. I didn't know if I'd ever seen a female that wasn't clipped before, at least not one who was old enough to have children. She reminded me of my own mother, or at least what I imagined she would be like if she wasn't forced to work nearly every day. If she was free, if she hadn't been torn down and ravaged by the cruelty of males, of my father. Maybe she would be warm like Hashna, sewing clothes for me to train in, skilled hands working on something purely for the joy of it.

Right now, she was toying with layers of tulle. Soft purple fabric being adorned with glittering jewels and expertly crafted ruffles. I tried to imagine who the dress was for, the tiny size meant a child. Rhysand had a sister, I remembered them talking about her. I tried to imagine a setting in which such a dress could be worn, definitely not here. It would be covered with mud and soot within moments. Somewhere warm and clean, perhaps a glittering palace. If the Illyrian camps could feel so warm after the darkness, what would a palace feel like? What would it feel like to be showered with comfort? No fighting, no violence, just beautiful things.

Leuruna, my shadows answered, giving me her name.

They had said she was like me. I didn't know there were other shadowsingers, didn't know the power could grace someone who had grown up in the light.

Cassian and Rhysand were playing with a deck of cards, some game I hadn't bothered to learn the rules to. They'd offered me a spot to play with them, but I had refused. I preferred to watch. It was almost entrancing, the way the cards shuffled in their hands, the soft tune Hashna was humming as she sewed. It was calm, so rare with Cassian and Rhysand around, and I wanted to take a moment to bathe in it. Just a few minutes, when it didn't all seem so overwhelming, when my shadows sat silently perched on my shoulder.

That is, until the door swung open. A cold breeze drifted through the house, snow covered boots trampling on the oak floors, laughter and giggling as someone ran directly between Rhysand and Cassian. The small figure was talking, so fast I could barely make out what she was saying. Tiny hands wrapped around Cassian's waist, a dark head of hair pushed into his chest.

"Leuruna!" Hashna scolded, "You were not raised in a barn! Close the damn door!"

The door closed with a flick of her hand, her arms still wrapped around Cassian. The bigger boy was laughing, brushing the melting snow from her violet black hair.

"Good to see you didn't miss your own flesh and blood." Rhysand murmured.

"I did miss you!" Her voice was high pitched, laced with the innocence of a child, but behind it... somewhere in the tune of it lay the song of the shadows. And then I saw them, she flung herself into her brother's arms and her shadows swirled with her.

They weren't black like mine, not poisoned with darkness. No, her shadows were not the darkness of night- but what lurked behind you as the sun rose on your face, the morning mist, the soft light of the moon. Lavender, so muted they could have been grey. The light was not swallowed by them, but rather became one with them. I watched as the flickering light of the fire made them look like they were glowing, softly trailing around towards me in quiet exploration, even as she pulled back from Rhysand.

"I just missed Cass more." She stuck her tongue out at her brother, falling away from him as she tumbled into the other boy's lap.

"I told you I'm her favorite brother, Rhys." Cassian laughed.

Rhysand frowned, "Go to hell."

"Language." Hashna reminded gently, "And have some manners, Azriel hasn't met Leur yet."

As if on que, her head turned to face me for the first time. Violet eyes stared at me, almost too large for her face, wide as she glanced at the shadows on my back. Her messy black hair fell in waves around her face, nearly identical to her brother's. She was stunning, a kind of beauty I had not realized existed in a world so cruel. Something bloomed in my chest, a feeling I did not understand, as those amethyst shadows creeped closer towards me.

I expected my own to whisper at me to retreat, to move away from this girl and her enchanting stare. I expected to feel fear, maybe to be overwhelmed like I had been every time I met someone new. But the feeling never came, no command, no information. My shadows were just as entranced as I was, swirling over my scarred hands to stretch towards hers. Like magnets, they drew closer and closer, her eyes still locked on mine. My heart was pounding in my chest, that feeling I couldn't place gripping me more and more as she was inching towards me.

The first brush of them was hesitant, pure curiosity, but I could have sworn I felt a spark- a tiny flash of a swirling maroon color as the shadows met one another. The second touch was like a shock wave running through me, waking me from something. The shadows did not retreat, only stayed swirling around one another in a silence.

And then, clear as day, a quiet voice sounded. Not out loud, not for the others to hear- but within the song of my own shadows, melodic and soft, Nice to meet you.

I didn't know how she had done it, but some instinct inside of me answered her. My name is Azriel.

That's a nice name. Her voice was a quiet melody, I like it.

And yours is? I asked even if I already knew the answer.

A small hand was outstretched towards me, olive skin only a few shades lighter than my own. I didn't know the last time I felt a truly kind touch, if I'd ever shaken someone's hand and known with absolute certainty that it was safe to do so. I didn't think it would be possible for me to ever hold someone's hand and not feel shame at the ugly scars trailing over my skin.

But my hand grasped hers, and I had no fear.

My name is Leuruna, the smile on her mouth reflected the voice in my mind, You can call me Leur.