A Court of Watchful Shadows

Losing hope

Azriel

~70 days since hybern~

The winter court was a land of endless snow and jagged mountains, its beauty stark and harsh. Every day I flew over the landscape, trying to piece together any hint of where she might be.

Orelia had mentioned a few details of the manor Ziláa's father owned, but apparently it's only reachable if you know where to look, in which we had no clue.

Some days Rhys and Cassian helped me search, they even brought Orelia and Mor on other occasions. But nothing.

My mind clung to the fragments of the woman I knew—the fiery, determined force who had never backed down. But no matter how hard I searched, how far I stretched my shadows, it was like she had vanished from existence.

I had spent twenty full days coming back to this desolate place, and each one felt like an eternity. The snow-covered fields and forests below me held no answers, no clues, only an overwhelming silence that pressed in on me from all sides.

I had already flown over half the territory today, my patience wearing thin as the shadows grew wilder, more chaotic. I couldn't sense Ziláa. Not in the villages, not in the looming snowy mountains that dotted the distant skyline. There was nothing.

The wind began to pick up, cold and harsh. My wings began to twitch with each gust, the cold seeping into the muscles—stiffening them. I had to fight to keep my movements smooth, to avoid the unnatural feeling of my wings locking up. The icy wind seemed worse than the cold in the Illyrian mountains, perhaps because my focus needed to be somewhere other than my flying.

I couldn't help but grit my teeth in frustration.

There were no answers here. No leads. I had checked every possible place in the winter court, flown over every inch I thought she might be hidden in. Still, nothing.

This was becoming too much.

I let out a sharp exhale, my breath clouding in the icy air as I spiraled downward, my wings aching as they caught the wind, cutting through the frigid skies. My shadows remained relentless, crawling beneath the snow-covered landscape like ravenous beasts.
They didn't like being so far from Ziláa. Didn't like how they'd had so little time with their mate only to have it ripped underneath them. Their distress mirrored mine—growing sharper with every passing second.

It wasn't until I was nearly level with the highest peaks of the winter court's mountain range that I heard the faintest sound, the low hum of a whisper from within the shadows.

Nothing.

I clenched my fists, trying to regain some semblance of control. I couldn't let the panic take over. I couldn't let the fear claw its way up my throat again.

There has to be something.

I pushed myself higher, flying through the sharp, biting air until my breath caught in my chest, the strain in my wings sharp as I soared through the icy wind. The shadows continued to pull and twist beneath me, hissing in frustration, reaching toward the barren expanse below. Their cries—unlike anything I'd felt before—echoed through me.

This was all I had left. This search.

I was flying blind now, my mind racing with doubts I couldn't shake. What if she wasn't even in the winter court? What if I couldn't find her in time?

Another gust of wind struck, causing me to falter mid air. I quickly adjusted, taking the strain in my wings, but it was becoming harder to ignore the pain. The ice was suffocating. The cold was consuming me. It felt like everything around me was suffocating—my wings, my shadows, the sky itself.

I wasn't getting any answers here, perhaps I should go and ask Orelia once more if there was something, anything else she could tell me about Ziláa.

I exhaled slowly, trying to clear my head, but the thought of Ziláa gnawed at my mind, her image so vivid in my mind's eye.

I turned the cold wind battering me as I started my descent, but as my wings caught the air once more, sending a sharp jolt through my limbs, I could feel the shadows—their frustration—and my own fury.

It was so damned frustrating.

They would never stop looking. I could never stop looking.

Even as I began the long, slow flight back toward the palace, where I could perhaps get some semblance of warmth, I knew that tomorrow- tomorrow I would fly again.

There was no place too far.

No boundary too great.

I would find her. Even if it took every last bit of me to do so.