A Court of Flame & Shadow - Eris x OC

The Battlefield

At the break of dawn a few days later, Vel stood atop a broad knoll overlooking the grassy plain that may very well become their final resting place. Amren quickly explained the plan. When Feyre had tried to nullify the Cauldron alone it had nearly killed her. But if the cost were split amongst others who were Made ... they might just stand a chance. They wanted to get the Cauldron under their control and harness it to bind the king and his army. Vel shuddered as she remembered the Suriel's words.

"You have been noticeably absent," Rhys crooned as his eyes surveyed the dark mass spreading to the eastern horizon.

"I've had my own preparations to make," Vel replied tersely. Mor threw her cousin a look as if to say not today. Rhys ignored it.

"I hope whatever it was that was more important than the first battles of this war will make the difference."

Despite the fact that Rhys was taller than her, Vel lifted her chin and looked down her nose at him. It was not the time to remind him that she did not answer to the Night Court, most powerful High Lord or not. So she simply said, "I hope so too," before turning back towards the much smaller army on their side. Her eyes swept over the armies searching for one person. But he wasn't here – yet.

Vel quietly watched as the lines formed. Summer, Winter, Day, Dawn, and Night – each court's forces clearly marked by the alterations in color and armor. In the faeries who fought alongside the High Fae, ethereal and deadly. A legion of Thesan's Peregryns flapped into rank beside the Illyrians, their golden armor gleaming against the solid black.

No sign of Autumn or Spring. But Eris would come, even if he had to split the army's allegiance in half. And Tamlin— well, after what had happened in Hybern's camp there was no doubt whose side he was on.

It had been an age since Prythian had united against one common foe. But Vel hoped with all her heart that this war wouldn't compare to what was once waged against the Daglan.

Magic slammed against magic. The coiled beast within her chest writhed as the High Lords unleashed their might across the battlefield. Vel closed her eyes.

She was standing in a pit of darkness, the only light coming from two slits far, far above. A thick blanket of mist rolled just a few inches off the ground. She should have been alone so far within the depths of her soul— except she wasn't.

A pair of crimson eyes glinted in the far reaches of the pit. They approached, creeping closer ever so slowly until one eye was just in front of her, the slit pupil towering over her. She could see her reflection in it. Small. Alone. Fearless.

"I know why you're here." The creature hissed, its frigid breath scattering the mists. A few of its scales glinted in the dim light. "I sssee through your eyesss."

"Does that mean you'll be open to cooperating for once?"

"The wordsss of the Sssuriel have gone to your head. Jussst becaussse the beasstsss in the Middle have bent the knee that doesss not mean you will get me to obey. I am the Magic of the Land, the warden of your curssse. You are my prisssoner jussst asss I am yoursss."

"Solas is dead. Calyx is dead. All of the Daglan are gone, and have been for thousands of years. You answer to none. Help me defend Prythian and I will set you free."

"You do not have sssuch power."

"I don't. But the Cauldron does. And it is conveniently within reach."

The great beast paused, considering. "You would part with my power; permanently?"

"After this war is over, I wish to live a normal life. With my mate. And without worrying that I'm tipping the scales, that it might start a war. I want to be free."