Azriel's Tale

Azriel's Tale - Chapter 17

CHAPTER 17:

Azriel's method of dealing with unpleasantness was admittedly not healthy, but for the time being it was all he knew. He ignored the situation. Rather than face similar conversations like the one he had last night with Rhys, with Mor or Feyre he decided to leave before anyone else would be awake without breakfast. 

He travelled to Aideen's camp. He always liked Aideen in her easy flow of conversation when necessary and her ability to be comfortable not speaking, which Azriel preferred. Not just with Aideen, with most people. The shadowsinger often found he liked people he could comfortably sit with without talking. 

Azriel was obviously very early because no other Illyrians were training yet. Still, he used this opportunity to start early with some further training, he decided he would use the punching bag to begin his day with. He always preferred the punching bag out of all the equipment available at his disposal. It was a guilty pleasure to Azriel which his brothers would tease and torment him lovingly if they were to ever find out. He was deep in thought when he heard the scuttering of Illyrians beginning their training, bringing out equipment, grunting with their brutal exercises and endurance tests. 

"Azriel?" A voice questioned. He turned, his chest bare, only dressed in his exercise trousers, boots, and the worn fabric wrapped around his hands. He stopped tormenting the punching bag for now and turned to follow the familiar voice. Instantly, a warm smile crossed his face and he recognised her.

"Alva, good to see you again." She smiled warmly in return. They discussed what had changed since they last spoke to one another and soon she was asking for fighting lessons and some tutoring on some of her techniques. Azriel was more than content to oblige her. Alva was of a similar height to Azriel which he found useful when teaching her methods. He found that when he taught an Illyrian or Fae of a different build or height to him he had to adjust slightly. A person's best defence depended on this. If you are tall and of a bigger build chances are that you will not be as fast as someone who is shorter and of a smaller build. Her tan skin was common to see amongst Illyrian soldiers, regardless of gender, as they spend so much time outside in the sun training and preparing for all eventualities. After 30 minutes she asked Azriel a question which momentarily shocked him.

"What are you running from?" 

"Excuse me?" He asked, a little confused. 

"I'm sorry, that sounded like I was accusing you of something." She rubbed her temples and sighed. "I mean, you are not here that often and now you're here twice in the span of a week and training before anyone else. I'm sure you have a place to train closer to Velaris." She explained. Azriel nodded in confirmation. 

"I'm not a subtle as I used to be," He laughed in an attempt to use humour to deflect. Alva simply waited for his genuine response.

"Cassian and I aren't on the best of terms at the moment," He explained. "I'm going to go and speak with him soon about it. I just needed to vent some of my frustration." Alva nodded in understanding. This was certainly not the first time Azriel had come to Aideen's camp to avoid a fellow member of the Inner Circle when tensions had been high.

"I didn't mean to pry. I'm sorry for pushing." She apologised, yet again.

"You don't need to apologise," He insisted. "It's helped me see what an ass I'm being. I don't mean to be rude, but I may go speak to Cassian now if that is alright?" He asked gently.

"Of course," Her honeyed voice was still trying to evenly draw in breaths from their recent sparring. "It was lovely to see you again." 

He looked at her for one more moment. Her long brown hair tied back loosely swayed slightly in the wind and she smiled.

"You too," He replied. And Azriel shot into the sky to see his brother, eager to resolve the conflict between them. Whenever Azriel was feeling the way he did now he often turned to Cassian, not that Rhys and the others weren't his family too, of course, they were. The shadowsinger felt as if he could share more with Cassian than with the others. He'd always felt that way, since the first moment Cassian dragged his sorry ass to the training ring for the first time in Devlon's camp centuries ago. He didn't often think of those days as they were normally associated with negative emotions but Azriel often forgot how many positive things occurred in those camps. He kept reflecting on this notion until he landed in near a bar which he was almost certain Cassian would be in. It was only 10 am, but Cassian was angry, so his coping mechanism was usually alcohol. Azriel was not the only Illyrian to have unhealthy coping habits. 

Another chapter so soon! I felt really bad for leaving it so long without updating! I hope this sweetens it slightly. Please do let me know what you think, I am really trying to improve my writing so any criticisms or comments on my writing will be greatly appreciated. Thank you. -Jessica