Azriel:
"He was there, and I just watched him winnow away. Can he even-"
"No." Rhys's face is drawn, dar circles running under his eyes. He looks exhausted. "No, he shouldn't have been able to do that. To winnow within the wards-" He shakes his head. Rubs his face. He sighs, "Examine the area. See if you can track him at all."
His study is a mess of papers and books, quills and pens scattered along the desk. "Rhys, what is going on? You look like hell," Cassian demands, arms crossed at sprawled in the armchair next to me.
"Nothing. I-"
"What. Is. It? You can't push us away, we'll just come back and annoy you even more."
Rhys sighs again, and reluctantly seems as if he's about to speak-
But then the door crashes open, and a worried Nesta appears in the doorway. "It's Elain, come quick!"
All three of us exchange glances, and Cassian gets up to follow his mate, and me and Rhys run after him. Following both of them makes me realise we are going in the way of Meira's room. I watch as Nesta slams the door open to reveal-
Elain, sat cross-legged in the middle of the room, eyes glazed as if she's-
"A prophecy ," Breathed Mor, and I go a sit in front Elain, watching her as she begins, head snapping up:
"The Light and The Darkness shall align;
For there cannot be light without shadow; and shadow without light;
The Cursed Shadow shall remain a mystery, a fraction of her powers shall be set free;
Beware of the one with two souls; he shall steal what is not his and can change what could have been;
The Past will answer to the Future;
The Tamer of Light has the power to change the Fates of us all;
A cave, a beast breathing fire, a sword - all await in the future-
Do not trust the healer!"
And her head falls back, collapsing onto herself as she exhales, asleep.
"What the fuck was that," Cassian breathes, and I grimly stare at Elain's sleeping form. Last time she predicted something, it came true almost immediately.
What the fuck is going to happen?
~~~~~
Meira:
I don't know how long I've been down here.
If 'down here' is the right way to describe it.
Tylen comes and goes. It comes in waves, the pain, the red hot, searing pain - until I cannot feel it anymore.
The snap of bones; the whip and shredded skin.
It all fades into background noise. I might be going mad. It's not even the worst part.
The worst part?
The Illyrian in the corner, echoes of shadows dancing around his figure.
He asked me to call him Sirius, but it's not Azriel. He looks like me, the Illyrian. We have the same noise, similar shaped eyes. Curls and blue eyes, like oceans.
He leans against the bare stone wall with a confident and ease I cannot imagine. Simple shirt and breeches, shinny black boots.
He refuses to leave, and I watch him on the other side of the room, sharpening his sword, every now and again looking up at me, those blue eyes too identical to mine. I can hear his voice, always. I can only see him when Tylen is gone, but his stories are always there to greet me when I awake.
"When you were little, you wanted to be a healer. But then Elia dug her claws into you, and forged you into a weapon." He looks up at me expectantly, as if looking for a reaction but there's nothing on my face apart from pain and exhaustion.
"I tried to get her to leave you be, but she just wouldn't stop. She made you into the perfect assassin, you know. You had the perfect aim, the perfect balance. You could fall from palaces and still rise unscathed."
When darkness comes to claim me, he doesn't leave. Maybe he does. But when I awake without Tylen, he's there, with a new story on the tip of his tongue.
"When you were younger, you had a little stuffed dragon called Lancelot. You carried this toy everywhere, even to training. Elia hated it, said it would make you weak, and weak people died. All she could see was the power in both of us."
He stares at me, his blue, gold flecked eyes meeting mine as he carries on, "I was with you when you made your first kill. You only cried, for a few minutes you wept, before accepting what you'd done. You never cried after that."
I try and talk back to him, but I can't get my jaw to move. But I watch him across the room, watch as he passes the pools of blood and discarded 'tools'. I watch as he approaches me, watches as he stands, his head above mine, and tucks a peice of my hair away from my face.
"You're doing so well, Rhea. Don't let them win. Try to remember, Rhea. Don't mourn me for long when you remember what happened. What I did - you'll hate me for a while. But I won't be there for you to yell at me, okay? Feel free just to scream at me from the ground, I'll be able to hear you. See you. I'll never leave your side, I promise."
He takes my pinky- my only finger I think isn't broken, and makes a promise before he fades into his shadows, but not before the last of his words reach my ears, "Just hang on a little longer. And remember, whatever arrives from the shadows you must greet as a blessing. He'll be here soon." And then I am left with just my own silence, closing my eyes, ready to meet the monsters in my nightmares once again.
~~~~~~
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𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐫 || 𝐀𝐂𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐑 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐂 ||
Fanfiction**𝐀𝐂𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐑 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐒𝐄𝐓 𝟐𝟓 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐂𝐎𝐒𝐅** "If it was not for healers, Meira, most of us would be dead. Take that as you will." Devlon's hard gaze meets mine, "But remember, girl, that Illyrians will not be forgivin...
