Elain
The rain falls relentlessly as I trudge along the muddy path, exhaustion weighing heavily on my shoulders. My hands grip tightly to the handles of my gardening tools, the only semblance of stability in this torrential downpour. Finished with tending to one of the Highlord's gardens, I had hoped to make it home before the storm hit, but it seems luck is not on my side today. With each step, the rain intensifies, turning the earth beneath my feet into a slippery mess. I curse softly to myself, my soaked clothes clinging uncomfortably to my skin. There's no shelter in sight, except for one distant beacon—the House of Wind.
As I stand before the House of Wind, seeking shelter from the storm both outside and within, a pang of doubt grips me. The unspoken tension between Azriel and me weighs heavily on my heart and with each step toward the house of wind I can't shake the feeling that Azriel would not want me here. His rejection echoes in my mind, a painful reminder of the distance between us. Despite our shared history and the unspoken bond that lingers between us, I can't help but feel like an intruder in his world. The way he averts his gaze, and the careful distance he maintains—it all speaks volumes, leaving me to wonder if I've misinterpreted every fleeting moment of connection between us. But in this moment of desperation, I have no choice but to cling to the hope that the sanctuary of the House of Wind will offer solace from the storm. With a heavy heart, I push aside my doubts and step forward, even if it means facing the painful truth of Azriel's indifference. Finally reaching the towering structure, I look up, raindrops mingling with my lashes as I squint through the storm. The House of Wind looms above me, its spires disappearing into the roiling clouds. Summoning all my resolve, I raise my voice above the din of the storm. "Cassian!" I shout, hoping that he will hear me. "Cassian, I need your help!".
Seconds stretch into eternity before I hear the sound of wings beating against the rain. And then, like a guardian angel descending from the heavens, Cassian appears before me, his expression a mix of surprise and concern. "Elain?" he calls, his voice barely audible over the roar of the storm. "What are you doing out here?"
"I was on my way home," I explain, rain dripping from my hair in rivulets. "But I couldn't make it. The rain... it's too much.". Cassian's eyes soften with understanding. Without a word, he extends his hand to me, a silent invitation to take flight. With a grateful nod, I place my hand in his, feeling the warmth of his touch even through the cold rain. And then, with a powerful beat of his wings, we rise into the air, leaving the chaos of the storm behind us. But even as we ascend into the safety of the House of Wind, a knot forms in the pit of my stomach. Azriel's presence within those walls —a reminder of the awkwardness that lingers.
Cassian and I step inside the House of Wind, relief floods through me at the prospect of escaping the relentless storm outside. But my momentary reprieve is short-lived as I'm met by Nesta's angry but worried gaze. "Elain, I would think being a seer would make you more careful?" she scolds, her voice sharp with worry. "You should have taken one of your wraith friends with you. What if something had happened?".
"The skies were clear when I left Lord Vincent's garden but-", before I can finish my sentence, Nesta cuts me off with a wave of her hand. "Never mind that now, you should stay the night," she insists, her eyes flickering with determination. "We don't know when the storm will stop." she posess as a question.
I smile a little despite the cold shivers, "I am afarid that's not how seer powers work, but I am okay to wait".
Nesta's gaze holds mine, unwavering. I can tell she sees through my facade and knows that I'm uncomfortable with the idea of staying the night. And then, as if sensing my unease, Nesta breaks the silence, "Azriel isn't back from his mission yet," she says gently, her words hanging heavy in the air. "And with this kind of storm, we don't expect him back anytime soon.". A wave of relief washes over me at the confirmation, mingled with a pang of guilt for feeling relieved in the first place. But before I can dwell on it further, Nesta's voice interrupts my thoughts.
